Jo was out of her chair in an instant, ripping the knife out of Yuusuke’s hand and dropping to her knees at his side. She took her napkin and wrapped it tightly around Yuusuke’s bleeding hand, blood soaking into the fabric almost immediately.
“What the hell are you doing?” she shouted at Pan from over Yuusuke’s shoulder, but Pan had already switched seats again, now positioned unnervingly at Jo’s back. Jo kept her focus on Yuusuke despite the way it made her skin crawl to let Pan out of her sight. Except, when she looked back to her friend, the cries had stopped and his face had once again grown devoid of all emotion.
A soft sound grabbed her attention, a chitter, a squeak, and when Jo looked from Yuusuke’s face to his chest, she saw his uniform bulging.
Wiggling.
All at once, the buttons on Yuusuke’s ridiculous butler outfit burst open, a swarm of rats crawling from the gaping hole. Jo fell backwards, raising her hand and the bloody napkin to cover her face as the rats swarmed over her in an attempt to flee. It took only a matter of seconds, but they left Jo panting and stunned in their wake. When Jo finally opened her eyes, looking past the blockade of her arms, it was to find Yuusuke’s butler outfit rumpled but complete in front of her.
Jo took a breath, trying to get her heart to slow, only for the napkin in her hand to jerk wildly in her grip. When she dropped it in a fresh moment of panic, it was to the sight of a wounded rat, hole through its side, dragging itself as quickly as it could out from under the napkin and towards the door.
All at once, the terror and confusion in Jo’s blood boiled over into a rage, pushing her back to her feet. She spun three-sixty until she locked eyes on Pan, pointing at her with what she was glad to see was a perfectly steady finger.
“Enough of this, Chaos!”
To her immense satisfaction, Pan actually froze in surprise at the sound of her proper name, though it was an expression quickly hidden by glee.
“Oh come now, Destruction,” she sing-songed, voice playful and light as she too got up from the table. “I’m just having a little fun. You used to like my fun, a long long time ago.”
“Was any of that even real?” Jo demanded as Pan stepped closer, slow, lilting footsteps practically dancing into her personal space. “Was that really—”
“Does it matter?” Pan cut her off, close enough now that she could feel the odd magical presence surrounding the woman-child. And the way Jo’s own magic responded to it. . . It was an intoxicating sensation, like feeling the ground rumble beneath the wave of an explosion, or seeing a star implode and become a black hole. It was devastating and visceral and—
Jo took a step back, realizing that Pan had raised a hand as if to touch her, nails glistening neon yellow in the space between them. Understanding washed over Jo instantly.
They needed to destroy Pan before it was too late, before she lured in Jo’s magic and never let go. Jo shuddered at the thought; she didn’t want to be a part of this chaos any more than she had to.
“Oh dear,” Pan sighed with a histrionic pout. “It seems that display really upset you.” She almost looked legitimately put out by the idea, though Jo wouldn’t have been surprised if it was all an act. “Unfortunately our magic is becoming more erratic, you see. More . . . intense.” As if to emphasize this point, the floor shifted like shuttering blinds from a dark wood to a bright and blinding white, the table melting into a literal puddle of multi-colored paints that splashed about the empty canvas around Jo’s feet. Dishes and cutlery clattered into the puddles. Jo felt the paint seeping into her shoes, dampening her socks.
“So what?” Jo asked, voice level despite the rising air of disturbing energy soaking into the very essence of the room.
“So,” Pan held out the ‘o’ for a long while, twirling about in the paint and making a mess of both the floor and her clothes. “I can sustain myself on Snow’s magic for a good, long while. But sadly, it’s not enough for three.” Despite herself, Jo’s breath caught in her throat.
All at once, Pan stopped her messy spinning. “This is an Age ofMagic, Destruction. NotGods—don’t you remember that?” When Pan turned around then, she looked almost demure, the ruffles in her dress hanging less puffed up, the bright neon colors muted. Her hair had fallen over her shoulders in rainbow waves, but even those seemed lackluster in comparison to her usual level of outlandishness. “You must join me soon, Destruction. Or I fear you might find yourself unraveling completely.”
Jo didn’t quite know what to do with the seriousness in Pan’s voice, or the look of seemingly genuine concern on her face. But as quickly as it had come, it was gone, replaced once again by flashy colors and a bright pink smile. As she skipped up to Jo’s side, the puddles freezing in place mid-splash, Jo felt her mind and magic waver, thrown off by the complete one-eighty. Enough so that she didn’t manage to move away in time before Pan was pulling her into a tight hug. She smelled like burnt sugar and gasoline.
“Why don’t you . . .sleepon that, huh?” She giggled into Jo’s hair, planting a kiss on her cheek that tingled with pins and needles, like her face had fallen asleep. Yet, all the same, Jo found herself leaning into it, her body yearning for something she didn’t recognize but had once, she was sure. With a final squeeze, Pan released Jo from the hug and stepped away, snapping her fingers.
The whole room went from the mess of paint and ruined dinner to darkness, then blinked back into existence with an entirely new identity.
Though, perhaps notentirelynew, Jo noticed as she turned around to take in her surroundings. Judging by the layout and the furniture, even the dull globs clinging to ceiling, it was obvious she was in the same place. Though perhaps if the place had aged a thousand years in a second.
Everything was covered in dust and cobwebs, cracks lining the walls and the broken remnants of the fancy tables and chairs. The large portraits which once held shifting mirage-type paintings were now either completely black or ripped from their canvases entirely.
The door at Jo’s right creaked open on hinges that sounded as if they’d gone many, many years unused, and Jo caught sight of a butler’s outfit beyond it. She held her breath, walking into the wash of light pouring in from the hallway, and sighed in relief when it wasn’t Yuusuke but the marionette once again.
“To your room, madam,” he said, ushering her towards the hall with a jerking motion that made it look as if he’d dislocated his shoulder. Jo didn’t argue, didn’t bother to give the room even another glance before following her orders.
Much like before, the halls shifted and changed as they passed, room after room blending into one another in a way that should have made her dizzy. But Jo kept her eyes on the golem’s back, allowing him to lead her to whatever room Pan had “graciously” provided for her. Jo struggled to regain her footing, to level her mental state.
The best she could do was continue with the plan, though it was becoming painfully clear that getting a message to her team wasn’t going to be easy. Especially when the golem finally led her to a room with no windows and only one door. So much for breaking one of the flag poles.
“You will be summoned,” the marionette said, never setting foot inside Jo’s room; she wondered if he was contained within the halls and nowhere else. “Until then, you have been instructed to rest.”
“Yeah, sure.” Jo shrugged, watching as he closed her door, and unsurprised to hear him lock it. With a huff, she sat heavily onto the bed, comforter plush but scratchy beneath her fingers. However, her old clothes were there.How kind.
As it was, she was without a means to contact the others, and only a vague idea as to where Pan was keeping the bow. She’d found Snow, and though it both filled her with rage and heartache to know what he’d been put through, to know he was so close yet still so far, seeing him again was like a boost of adrenaline, a surge of motivation that pulled her back to her feet with a determined breath.
