Eslar merely gave a low hum by way of response. Then Jo followed his gaze. No longer did he stare out over the room with a hazy, unfocused gaze. Now they had settled on one man.
“We will protect the world, this time,” Jo said softly.
“We will,” Eslar agreed without hesitation. “The world is finally as it should be, and I will not see it lost again. I will protect my people. . .” He was silent for a long moment, as if gathering courage. His voice dropped lower; he clearly didn’t want to be heard by the room’s other occupant. “And I will protect him.”
It was there, in the mirror of Samson’s words that she’d heard through the door days before, that Jo let the conversation die. There was no more to be said. Even though they had only talked for a few minutes, it was enough to give her mind information to chew on for hours. It seemed that with Eslar, there was always something to read between the lines.
One thing was clear: The root of all of this—all of the hardship they had endured, every wish that had ever been made—was the determination to protect the ones they loved.
Chapter 20
Misdirected Assassin
Two more days passed with relative ease—a week in total, and just long enough for them to be lulled into a false sense of security. Just long enough for them to believe that, somehow, they had actually gained the upper hand on Pan.
But that delusion came crashing down with the blast of warning bells sounding throughout the castle.
Jo had been sitting up, studying the Elvish tile game that neither Wayne nor Takako had figured out yet (she was determined to be the first). She’d spent the preceding hours trying and failing to use her magic on items outside her line of sight. Reading had also begun to grow boring. Sure, she was fascinated by her new world. But Jo had never really been much of a reader to begin with, and fascination alone could only take her so far.
As soon as the bells rang, she was on her feet. She didn’t know what they meant, but she could safely assume it wasn’t something positive by the frantic pace at which they echoed throughout the castle. A shift in the atmosphere set her on edge. The door to her left burst open, revealing Takako in its frame. She looked directly to Jo.
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” Jo answered honestly. “But I have a guess and I don’t think it’s good.”
As if to underscore the assessment, at that moment, a figure appeared in the window. Jo felt it, as much as she heard the sound of two feet landing on the windowsill. She saw Takako’s reaction as if in slow-motion. The woman was reaching for her gun as Jo turned to face whatever—or whoever—had put her in attack mode.
The creature—man, woman, or some other beast altogether—was lithe and spindly, unnaturally so. Its long gangly arms almost reminded Jo of spider’s legs. Its actual legs were curled under its torso, but the length from hip to knee betrayed immense height. The creature seemed to be wrapped in shadow that mimicked Pan’s in feeling. Jo squinted, trying to make out a solid figure beneath the shifting, almost anamorphic smoke that shrouded it.
The creature turned its head, looking directly at Jo. Its eyes glowed a faint vermilion, the light seeming to leave trails in the darkness like demonic fireflies. When it opened its mouth to speak, the shadows retreated, revealing two rows of jagged teeth.
“You,” it hissed.
And without any further warning, it lunged for her.
Gunshots rang out, the bullets seeming to sheer off of the creature’s fog-like armor. The two shots sparked against the magical shield as though they had met metal, ricocheting away and falling to the ground as rose petals—removing all doubt for Jo that Pan’s chaotic magic was in play. The creature threw back its hand, and with it the shadows retreated to unveil thin-looking skin and deep crimson veins pulsing beneath it.
Underneath the assassin’s fingertips, magic formed. Jo could sense it before she saw it. Light drew under its palm and when it suddenly balled its hand into a taut, fist the light condensed into a spear-like beam, extending no more than a foot from its palm.
It lunged, slashing with its short-sword of power solidified.
Jo dodged with the same deftness she had used against the behemoths on the Sapphire Bridge. However, unlike that fight, her target was much smaller and more nimble. More shots rang out, and bullets whizzed past the side of her head. Were it anyone else shooting, Jo would have yelled at them for taking such reckless aim right over her shoulder. But Jo had nothing more than the utmost faith in Takako.
Jo spent the time Takako had bought her with her shots—a few seconds,ample time—seriously looking at the creature. She allowed her magic to work through her eyes, allowed her mental pathways to be charged by the power that seared every nerve in her body. Every synapse fired, each working with a singular goal—to understand the very essence of the magic she was witnessing.
It didn’tquitework; Jo didn’t actually understand what it was she was seeing, but she did have the very keen sense of how it could be undone. Jo reached out a hand before her. Her fingers uncurled as though she were letting a bird fly from her palm. Her magic took wing. She felt it as though it were a harpoon gun, shooting from her forearm and aimed from her fingertips, the rope of her magic unraveling from the tether at her elbow.
The spell, command, intent—whatever Jo could call it—hit its mark.
She saw the moment her magic sunk into the creature’s shield. It struck it dead in the center of the chest, shooting outward along invisible fracture lines. Had it been wearing a physical piece of clothing, Jo would have sent her magic along the seams; instead, it ripped every invisible stitch in an extraordinary fashion.
The spell of protection sheared away, fading harmlessly into the air. And leaving the body of a bipedal, humanoid male behind.
He was left mostly naked, having not anticipated someone completely removing his entire spell of protection. He wore nothing more than a tight, black wrapping around his loins. The skin covering his entire body had the same deathly pallor as she had witnessed on his hand, spider-webbed veins pulsing shallowly underneath the surface. His eyes continued to glow, and his teeth were just as jagged.
He hissed, as though the cool night air burned his skin. It was the last sound he ever made as Takako’s next bullet finally hit its mark. Whatever the creature was, it was not impervious without its chaotic shield, and it fell to the ground in a heavy slump.
Jo witnessed the man’s demise on two levels. She saw him physically oozing blood out of the wound in his chest. But she also saw him with her magic sight. She saw the frayed lines of his existence unraveling before her eyes. Without hesitation or remorse, Jo allowed her magic to help them along. She allowed herself to do what she couldn’t back in Yorkton when Pan had first sent one of her agents. She helped this one be undone.
