At that moment, the other door burst open. Wayne was standing at the ready.
“What’s going on? What did I miss?”
Jo’s eyes darted from the body to him; the scuffle had felt much longer to her but had no doubt only taken seconds. “Another one of Pan’s men, from the looks of it.”
Wayne looked down at the corpse on the floor for the first time, not even bothering to hide his cringe. “A man, or a monster? The hellisthat?”
The final set of doors was thrown open and armored elves poured into the room. They had swords at the ready, though they quickly sheathed them when they saw the body. Behind them was a familiar face.
“Is everything all right?” Eslar asked.
“Yeah, though I’m going to need more bullets,” Takako muttered. “Stupid magic shields.”
“Are you all right?” Jo asked back, noticing a flush to his cheeks.
“Yes. There was one in my room as well, but I dispensed of him.” For the first time, Jo wondered what Eslar could actually do in a fight. What did he fight with? Magic? Weapons? Some kind of weird reverse magical healing potion combination? She supposed that if everything with Pan transpired as they planned, she would eventually find out. Eslar crossed the room, kneeling by the corpse. “He is certainly dead.”
“Thank you for that assessment,” Wayne remarked dryly. “I can see why they made you their top healer.”
Eslar gave him a nonplussed look but his eyes shifted to Samson, who now stood in the doorframe. The two shared a long look, and some kind of soundless communication. Because all Eslar said was, “Everything is fine.”
“What even is that thing?” Wayne asked again.
“Dark elf,” Eslar answered grimly. “Elves who have sold themselves to the dark arts. Usually, or rather unsurprisingly, under the tutelage of Pan. . . Or the great wizard of Taristin.”
Jo made a mental note to ask—or read—about Taristin and their great wizard whenever she next found herself with free time.
“So it was another attempt to get Jo, then,” Takako said.
Something didn’t sit quite right with Jo and she spoke up about the nagging feeling, trying to put her finger on what, exactly, it was. “If this was about getting me, then why go after Eslar, too?”
“Maybe because she hates us all?” Wayne offered unhelpfully.
“Or hates that I’m aiding you,” Eslar murmured.
“Why just send one? She knew we’d dispatch him quickly and it’d make no difference. . .” Uneasiness grew in her, but Jo couldn’t tell if it was situational or a result of trying to get into Pan’s headspace.
“Unless she wasn’t trying to get you to come back this time?” Samson’s tone was confused, questioning. He was simply following the end of Jo’s logic. But hearing someone else say it, hearing the words spoken aloud, gave her mind the clarity it needed.
“She wasn’t trying to get me,” Jo repeated in a horrified whisper. “This wasn’t about me at all!” She bolted for the door.
“What’s going on?” Wayne called from somewhere far behind, clearly struggling to keep up.
“It’s a diversion!” Takako shouted back.
Jo looked at the woman at her side and gave a small nod, glad someone was both physically and mentally keeping up.
Pan knew she wouldn’t be able to take Jo by force from the fortified and warded castle of High Luana. But if she had been able to infiltrate it in some way, then she already knew they were there to procure a weapon. With any luck, however, she didn’t know about the arrow.
Her feet picked up faster underneath her as Jo rushed toward Samson’s workshop, praying all the while that she was not already too late.
Chapter 21
Final Demand
Jo’s prayer went unanswered.
She made it to Samson’s workshop first, all but breaking down the door in her attempt to get inside. Not that it mattered; the door was already practically knocked off its hinges. Jo’s stomach dropped, her pulse quickening even before she’d managed a properly look at the room inside.
