“Give me one more day,” Samson offered after a moment, and though Jo wanted to argue, wanted to demand right now, she could see something in Samson’s posture, in the expression lining his young face, that said not to. “My last attempt to contact him was fruitless, but I have a plan for the next time.” The words sounded forced, and she could tell he was already emotionally drained by this conversation.
“Get in touch with him, Sam, and get him here. Or just get the material you need, I don’t care which.” Jo paused, a dangerous idea crossing her mind. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and this felt like nothing if not desperate. She was done waiting. “If you don’t, I will.”
Chapter 10
Sapphire Bridge
Jo sat in their usual café once more.
Today, the linens of the sofa were annoyingly bright and the dishware frustratingly brittle. Jo didn’t know what she was putting in her mouth—some pastry slathered in a honey-like substance that left a bitter taste on the back of her tongue—but she ate it diligently. All of her mental energy went to three simple ideas: chew, swallow, and don’t immediately lash out the moment she heard the name Samson. Or worse: Eslar.
Wayne sat down heavily next to her. He took in a deep breath but no sound came out. His mouth just hung open for a long moment, until, finally, “Now listen, doll—”
“Out with it, Davis.”
“Jo—” Takako started.
“Now.” She didn’t want to be cajoled. She didn’t want to be soothed. She wanted results.
“He says he needs—"
Jo set down her cup far too heavily, hearing fractures crack around its handle. She didn’t even want to let him finish. “That’s it, we’ve waited long enough.” Magic crackled beneath Jo’s fingers as she tightened her hands into fists against the table’s surface. “If Eslar isn’t going to play nicely, neither am I.”
“Jo—” Wayne was on his feet as Jo started for the door, calling after her. “Don’t do anything rash!”
“I’mdonenot doing anything rash.” Jo threw her hands in the air. “I’d rather this blow up in my face than spend another minute not doing anything at all.”
Takako rushed to catch up with her, stopping her on the sidewalk. “This, whatever it is you’re about to pull, could alertPan.” Takako said the name as though it would act like a spell and instantly pull Jo back in line.
“Then let her be alerted. Let her come and face me here if she dares to risk the ire of the Elves after all. They already have no love for Aristonia thanks to Pan’s own mischief, so I doubt they’ll do anything to aide her or Snow.
“I’m done waiting,” she declared. “I’m going to High Luana,now. Go tell Samson to let Eslar know, if he wants to prevent even a little of the destruction I’m about to bring.”
Takako stared at her, mostly in disbelief, before finally letting her go. The woman turned, sprinting away in the direction of the workshop. Who knew if Samson could get to Eslar in time? Jo didn’t really care. Nothing would change her mind.
Jo hadn’t realized how tight the leash on her magic was until she let it go.
There had been a subconscious dampening of her abilities, no doubt. Perhaps it was in part because she had woken up with expectations of humanity as her “natural state”. But here, in Myrth, and with all that had transpired, Jo had cast off that expectation. She wasnothuman, she was not evenmortal. She was Destruction, and an Age of Magic was about to know what happened when a demigod was dropped among them.
Her time wandering the streets of Myrth in an endless holding pattern had given Jo an opportunity to learn the layout of the city some. More importantly, she remembered the brief glimpse of the Sapphire Bridge from her arrival. That was her destination. The point that connected the outpost of the Luanian Empire in which Myrth was seated—the only place that non-elves were allowed to tread—with the Empire proper.
It was simply a matter of crossing the bridge.
Though nothing would be simple about it, she was certain. In a way, she’d been planning for this moment from the second she broke the airship. It was as if, in the back of her mind, she’d known it would come to this: Jo was meant to destroy her path forward.
Before her was a large building that arched into the sea. Its four floors and massive windows shone in the sunlight. In front was a large wall and gate—a manned checkpoint. Men and women waited in a line that stretched along the length of the wall, all elves waiting to go home.
“Sorry to ruin your day,” Jo whispered softly but sincerely. Even if she was prepared for what was about to happen, and even if she wouldn’t regret it in the slightest, she had never truly wanted it to come to this.
Jo lifted a hand and felt her magic unravel like a fisherman’s line. It spun out from the tight coil of her control and flew into the universe, ready to do what she had been born to do—destroy.
In a split second, Jo analyzed the gate before her. It broke down before her eyes, lifting its skirts and showing all its most delicate areas. And with a thought, she let her magic do as it willed with that knowledge.
The immaculately woven, wrought iron gate groaned and buckled. The hinges pulled loose from their bolts in the stone wall; the iron fell with a cacophony of clangs as it disjointed at each of its ornately designed connection points. It was as if Jo had her fingers on the hands of time and spun the watch forward until the gate arrived at its natural point of eventual collapse.
There was screaming. Somewhere behind her, she heard a, “The hell, Jo?!” but she couldn’t be sure. The people in line ran, and the guards scrambled in confusion.
“Stop right there!” someone screamed at her.
