“Wayne,” Eslar spoke up, using his best Team Mom voice. “We’re all well aware of the flaws in this plan, but unless you have a better one, or even a useful suggestion, I think you should try to focus . . .quietly.”
Wayne sighed heavily, hanging his head. “I’m sorry,” he said to the group, scratching a hand through his hair before straightening back up. Then, looking directly at Jo, he added, “I’m just worried about you is all.”
“I know,” Jo said softly, meeting his eyes. “And I appreciate that Wayne, I really do. But we have no other choice. We have to do this.”
He nodded, one sharp jerk of his head. Then, in front of everyone, he got to his feet, stepped forward, and pulled Jo in for a tight embrace. Whispering low, and directly in her ear, he said, “Be careful, and come back. Got it, dollface?”
There was a small waver to his words, or perhaps that was the hitch in her own breath, Jo couldn’t tell. Either way, she hugged him back, fiercely. The moment he pulled away, he was replaced by Takako. And then Samson.
Eslar. . . wasn’t really much of a hugger. But Jo took the firm handshake and long gaze, knowing they were just as good.
They ran over the details of their plan one more time, minimal as they were, and then Jo started out of the hotel alone.
The walk to the Castle couldn’t have been more than ten minutes. Goddik was dense, but not large. However, with every step, time seemed to move more slowly. As the castle in the distance grew, so did Jo’s nerves, and when the first ward pushed against her, Jo was already eager to break it. Anything to alleviate some of the pent-up anxiety coursing through her veins like its own form of magic.
The shattering of the magical barrier protecting the outer rim of the castle looked to Jo like a rainbow turned to dust—there was no doubt whose magic created it. Jo was ready to tear the whole building apart. She wanted the satisfaction of breaking everything brick by brick. Or magical obsidian shard by magical obsidian shard—she couldn’t really tell exactly what the castle was made of. Whatever its makeup, it looked eerily similar to the obsidian disc in her pocket.
Two guards, swathed in the same shifting shadow as the assassin had been, came out to meet her. The shadows retreated from one of their mouths and a feminine voice spoke through rows of pointed teeth.
“She has been waiting for you.”
Six words.
Six words summed up a millennia. They summed up a war that dated back to the Age of Gods. They summed up what would be the end of their world, either in the triumph of Pan’s ultimate demise, or the failure of Oblivion being reborn.
Pan’s shadow minions led Jo through the outer wall, across a narrow courtyard, and through another protective wall that led to a drawbridge. Wind howled over the iron spikes that reached up from the deep pit the drawbridge was suspended across, as if they were hungry for blood. The portcullis was raised, just for them, and was still clanking as Jo entered the final courtyard. As soon as they passed, it closed with a heavybang, shutting out the outside world.
But Jo wasn’t focused on what had been lost outside; she was too focused on the new sensations of magic seeping into her skin the moment she walked into this inner sanctum of her enemy. Across the courtyard, perched on a ledge next to a gargoyle, was the painstakingly familiar visage of a woman-child. Long hair, stick straight and bright orange, blazed like fire in the wind, striking a strong contrast to the black castle behind her.
Pan stood, and a scarf of bright yellow with pink polka dots unfurled. It fluttered behind her as she skipped over to Jo. With a wide grin, Pan grabbed both of Jo’s hands, and before Jo could pull away, she began laughing, all but bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“It is so good to finally have you with me.”
Chapter 25
Chaotic Castle
“Ican’t say the same.” Jo pulled her fingers from Pan’s; it took a massive amount of restraint not to wipe her hands on her shirt. But she wouldn’t give Pan the pleasure of seeing her squirm.
“Don’t be like that.” Pan twirled in place and Jo watched as her dress went from short to long, changing color from a soft pink to a deep amber. In the same movement, she grabbed Jo’s elbow. “It’s good to be together again. Don’t you feel it too?”
Jo wanted to say that she didn’t. But there was an undeniable pulse between them that had never been there before. Every time Pan touched her, even in the lightest of ways, Jo felt the spark of magic crackle underneath her skin. It wasn’t like the magic she felt with Snow—with him there was a deep sense of rightness, almost like sinking into a warm pool. With Pan, it was like lightning: sharp, fast, and terrifying for how powerful it felt. It was like the first drop in a roller coaster, or the rush of taking a life in self-defense—all adrenaline, all danger, all immense and thrilling power. It was something that she already knew would leave her wanting if she let it.
The taste, no matter how intoxicating, was something Jo did not want to acquire.
“I want to see Snow,” Jo demanded.
Pan made a softtsk-tsksound and shook her head. “Not so hasty, darling. We just got together again! He doesn’t get to hog you the whole time. . . I want to catch up. Come, walk with me.”
Jo didn’t really have much of a choice; Pan was already pulling her along.
With a wave of the woman-child’s hand, a door in front of them opened. Pan led them into a narrow hallway lit only by ominous, green glowing orbs. The door closed behind them, plunging them into the dim twilight of Pan’s castle.
“So, what do you think?”
“What do I think of what?” Beneath where Pan clung to her elbow, Jo’s hand was clenched so tightly it shook. But if Pan felt it, she said nothing.
“This new Age of Magic.”
