At first, Jo’s skin prickled at the attention, a need to protect Samson from any backlash rising like static electricity across her skin, especially after learning his truths on the ship. But the more she looked between them—the unspoken words on Eslar’s tongue and a cocktail of emotions on Samson’s face—the less protective she felt. In fact, the longer they stared at each other in silent communication, the more she just felt like a voyeur.
A couple of times, Samson opened his mouth to speak, but at each attempt he found himself losing the courage. He seemed relieved to see Eslar, maybe even antsy with nervous excitement, hands twitching against the hem of his shirt. But he also looked a little like he was going to throw up.
“Master Greentouch?” It was the king who finally sought to bring an end to the lingering quiet, the authority in his voice making Jo tense. And she wasn’t the only one.
She wouldn’t have noticed had she not been paying such close attention to the two men, but at the sound of the king’s interruption, she saw both of their shoulders tighten, Eslar’s back straightening as Samson hunched into himself more fully. She took solace in the fact that, at least for a moment, they must have been relaxing in each other’s presences.
“Yes, my liege?” Eslar finally cleared his throat. Though the tension had fizzled some, it hadn’t broken, and the Grand Healer and the Craftsman continued to lock eyes, a line of weighted communication passing like a tangible thing between them.
“Perhaps it would be best if you lead yourfriendssomewhere where you can speak more privately and no longer trouble the crown with personal matters.” The king emphasized the wordfriendsin a way that left Jo more than a little miffed. This was clearly not the first time he’d had a conversation with Eslar about them, and it left Jo wondering how much of their initial interaction was for show. Eslar didn’t comment, his back still to the rest of the group, but the tension had in no way left his shoulders.
“We have rooms prepared for you all in the East Wing,” the queen added, this time addressing Jo directly. “We do hope they’ll be to your liking.” There was kindness behind the queen’s eyes that Jo found comforting, even if her words still glistened with ice.
“I’m sure they’ll be more than sufficient, your highness,” Jo replied with another minute bow of her head. “We appreciate your continued generosity.” She tried not to let sarcasm drip into the sentiment, but the slight rise of the queen’s eyebrow suggested Jo hadn’t succeeded.
“Our request has not been overlooked, Josephina Espinosa. We will allow you an audience with our Grand Healer—” The king’s gaze shifted to Eslar, probably commenting on his interruption before any deal could be struck. “And in return for all the forgiveness and hospitality which we have shown you, we expect an eventual explanation of your rather . . . devastating magic.”
A weight sank in Jo’s stomach as she held the king’s stare, her eyes narrowing into a glare. If she had to give them another “example” of her power, she would. But she also couldn’t sacrifice their plan further by being hot headed, even in the face of the king’s poorly veiled animosity. She’d known what she was risking when she destroyed the bridge, after all. As if to emphasize her thoughts, Jo felt Takako reach over, a subtle shift of her hand, to rest her fingers against Jo’s wrist. Not a warning or a plea, but a reminder. They had Eslar, they would have their chance to appeal to him; no need to be rash.
Jo took a breath and closed her eyes for a moment before looking back to the king. “We’ll see,” she said, offering him what she hoped was more smile than grimace. The king didn’t comment, finally shifting his focus back to Eslar.
“If you would, Master Greentouch.”
Eslar bowed his head with a monotone, “Of course, sire,” and began to lead the group out of the throne room. Wayne, Takako, and Samson followed without a word, Samson trailing a bit behind, but Jo spared one more glance at the royal family before following suit.
Through the doors on the right-hand side of the throne room, the group entered into a narrow but no less luxe hallway. Eslar didn’t look back and his shoulders were so rigid, they formed an impenetrable wall.
“Your rooms will be in here,” Eslar said when they arrived at a set of double doors at the far corner of the courtyard they’d been traversing. He opened both doors and led them rank and file into a common area.
It was an incredibly spacious setup, the windows along the far wall—bordered in swirling, branch-like patterns—only adding to the inviting openness. In the center of the room, flanked by two more open doors to the left and right, was a sitting area that boasted three couches, a chaise, and a long table that stretched toward the windows. The furniture was intricately carved in deep mahogany and covered in blue velvet.
Through the doors, Jo could see more furniture, including a four-poster bed. The bedding looked immensely plush, a pristine white duvet accented with embroidered swirls of green and no doubt filled with some type of feathers. The pillows looked equally as soft and inviting, if not more so. All in all, a very impressive place to rest.
Takako would certainly enjoy it.
Jo, on the other hand, took solace in the fact that the living room had an entire wall dedicated to shelves upon shelves of books (hopefully with some in English). She wouldn’t have been surprised to count somewhere near a thousand or more on the floor-to-ceiling spread. Jo could already feel herself unconsciously dragging her eyes over each title, waiting for something of use to stick out to her.
The book that had helped lead them here had belonged to Eslar, after all. If they needed more information, more insight into their ever-changing plan, Jo’s best bet would be this wall. At the least it’d stave off the boredom.
The elf stood behind them, still hovering in the doorframe as if he couldn’t decide if he was really going to go through with talking to them, or if he was going to try locking them away and running. As if sensing her train of thought, Eslar crossed his arms over his chest and walked up to her, only barely breaching her personal space but looming over her nonetheless.
“You all wanted my attention so desperately,” he said, voice cool and aggravatingly unemotional. “Well now you have it. After all that’s transpired, what could you possibly need me for?”
Jo was struck with the sudden desire to tangle a fist into the collar of his tunic, to drag him down to her line of sight and demand that he stop being so indifferent about their arrival. Sure, the Society hadn’t been kind to them, but they’d survived together. They’d bonded and grown and loved and lost.Together. Did that mean nothing to him? Now that he had his people and his status and his world back, did their trials mean nothing? Her magic was practically yelling at her to dismantle Eslar’s truth, to rip deep into his mind and heart and find proof that he had cared.
But as much as it probably showed in her eyes, Jo said nothing. Not without taking a deep breath, willing her magic to settle back into her core. Arguing right off the bat would do no one any good.
“The Society itself might be gone, but we’re not done fighting.” Jo dove right in, willing herself not to mirror Eslar’s dismissive pose. “I know having magic back, having yourpeopleback, is important to you. As it should be. But as long as Pan lives, none of it is safe.”
As if it were involuntary, Eslar’s gaze shifted over Jo’s shoulder to where she knew Samson stood. She hoped she hadn’t thrown the poor guy under the bus in some way, but Jo knew it was something Eslar needed to hear.
“We’ve come up with a plan to stop her, but we need your help to do it.”
Eslar looked back at her for a long moment before speaking. “What makes you think, after a year of silence, that she intends anything so grandly malicious?”
“Because . . .” Jo hesitated, trying to figure out the best way to phrase it that didn’t condemn her to the already reluctant elf, but really, there was no way to skirt blame on this one, was there? “Because I’m back. She’s looking for me and will do anything to get me. And if she finds me before we have the means to defeat her, that’s the end for us all.”
Eslar raised an eyebrow at that. “And how, exactly, is that?”
