“You know I would never ask anything of you if it wasn’t important,” Samson begged. “And you know I would never ask you—I would never ask you to give up everything, especially after losing so much already because . . . because of me. But this isn’t about loss. This is about keeping everyone safe. You have to see that.”
“I see a hot-headed demigod with a one-track mind leading you all down the path to ruin.”
As much as she wanted to slam down Eslar’s door and argue his comment, Jo swallowed back her spike of frustration and leaned more heavily forward, pressing her ear completely flush between the floor and the crack beneath the door.
“There’s peace here, Samson. The Age of Magicexistsagain. It’s not perfect, and it most certainly wasn’t the culmination of anything ideal, but—” Here, Jo heard a quiet intake of breath, a shaky exhale. “We’ve been fighting for so long. How could you possibly want to step foot back in the arena?”
“Because I know it will keep this world safe,” Samson replied easily, not even a waver to his voice. “Because I know it will keepyousafe. Whether you want me around or not.”
“Samson, please, you know I never—”
“Eslar, wait.” Samson cut him off in a way that felt impressive for the mild-mannered craftsman. “I know my wish caused you centuries of heartache, something I can never attempt or expect forgiveness for. But I thought . . . I hadhopedthat, with the return of the Age of Magic, you might—wemight—be able to set it all aside once and for all and focus on all that we found good between us...”
“Samson,” Eslar whispered, and Jo almost startled at the intimacy laced into the syllables of Samson’s name.
“It wasn’t my doing, this second chance of yours,” Samson continued, not waiting for Eslar to speak. “It was none of our doing but Jo’s and Snow’s. And now that Jo has returned to this reality, Pan’s stasis of lying low won’t last; she’s already hunting us. I expect she’ll find a way to come here too.” A sharp inhale of breath from Eslar at that revelation. “Plus, we owe it to Jo, don’t we? She broke the Society; she’s the one who gave us this, after all.”
“So now we are to risk someone’s safety just to repay a debt we never asked for?”
“This is the best chance we have toensureyour people’s safety, Eslar. This is the best chance we have of keepingeveryone—”
“I wasn’t talking about my people,” Eslar interrupted this time, and Jo felt her throat catch. “I wasn’t talking about the safety of everyone else. I was talking aboutyours.”
This time, when the silence stretched, Jo couldn’t help but hold her breath, wishing she could see their faces if only just to understand the silent communication they must have been sharing. Eventually, another sigh filled the emptiness.
“Forgiveness, in a sense, is something I never expected to give, Samson,” Eslar went on, voice strained but filled with purpose. “But it was also impossible to maintain animosity towards you. Not just because of our close quarters and your guilt, but because of your kindness, your need to comfort.” If Jo didn’t know any better, she’d have said Eslar laughed a bit to himself at that, though it was a sound she’d never heard escape him before. “I wanted to hate you. And you know that I tried but . . . But I could only attempt to hate you for so long before I failed. Before I learned the nature of your wish and why it was made. Before I learned more aboutyou.”
“I wanted you to hate me too,” Samson replied, sounding so, so small. “Part of me still does, even if I keep following after you like this. And . . . And I’m overjoyed, Eslar, beyond ecstatic to see the Age of Magic returned, even if it wasn’t my doing. Even if it doesn’t change what I did. So . . .” Jo imagined him squaring his shoulders, his voice coming out stronger, despite its pleading tone. “So I refuse to be the reason it gets taken away from you again.”
“You wouldn’t be the—”
“If I can help,” Samson pushed, volume rising, “if there’s something I can do to stop Pan and save everyone but Idon’t. . . Then I’m just as much at fault as I was the first time. If I have the chance to do something, if there’s even a slight chance this might make the world safer for the . . . for person I . . . I l-love, then how can I—”
Samson’s words cut off beneath a soft, muffled noise, and Jo felt heat rising to her cheeks. She’d known there was something between the two, something visceral and important to them both, but somehow, she hadn’t stopped to consider love. Now that she did, however, she couldn’t help but remember every moment they’d chosen to spend together instead of being alone, every moment they’d stood just shy of too close, every time they’d shared a private conversation as if no one else in the Society had been in the room.
But more than that, Jo found herself remembering those fragmented moments right before Snow had remade the Age of Magic, when she’d been pinned to the fractured Door, Snow held out of sight, the rest of the team in wounded shambles. She could see Samson’s face as clearly as if she were witnessing it all over again, the look of anguish on his face as he cried over the unconscious form of their healer. How she’d never seen the love there before, she had no idea. It was so obvious it was almost painful to look at, especially with all they’d been through.
She’d seen herself in Samson’s eyes then. If something were to happen to Snow . . . she couldn’t even process such agony.
As slowly and quietly as she could, she got to hear feet, suddenly feeling much too much like a voyeur. Before she could turn back the way she came, however, Eslar’s voice, deep and filled with a longing, made Jo’s heart ache.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to do, Sam,” he whispered. “That’s all I’ve ever been trying to do.”
Jo hurried her steps after that, not wanting to eavesdrop any more than she already had. Whatever else needed saying, she had no doubt they would say it. And when the time came, Samson would surely be able to find his way back.
Chapter 16
Daydream Of Longing
When Jo finally made it back to their quarters, it was with an odd mix of pride, heartache, and happiness for her friend that left her somewhat distracted. The guards grumbled at her, but didn’t look exactly surprised. Perhaps they’d received the memo that trying to keep her locked up was a bad idea.
“Welcome back, doll,” Wayne said from where he sat near the wall of books. His voice was a bit hoarse and low, though whether it was from sleep or because he was trying to keep his voice down for Takako, Jo couldn’t tell. She was too busy nearly jumping out of her skin. She managed to bite back her yell of surprise.
“What are you doing still awake?” she asked, trying to keep the accusation out of her voice. So much for a covert operation.
“I heard you guys leaving and got worried,” he answered, no hint of judgment or even defensiveness. Jo felt herself relax a bit beneath the words, a trickle of guilt crawling up her throat. “Thought about following you, but I didn’t want to throw a wrench in any plans.”
“That . . .” Jo said, clearing her throat as she walked up to him, rubbing a hand along the back of her neck. She felt tense all of a sudden, sore in a way she hadn’t felt since waking up as a fully-fledged demigod. “That was probably a good idea, thank you.”
