NICO WORKED RIGHT up until the end of his twelve-hour time allotment. His arms were coated up to his elbows with an array of colors and his shirt was splattered in odd places from his frantic desire to finish. All calmness Jo felt had begun to flee the moment she saw the man’s shoulders starting to rise toward his ears in tension.

“That’ll. . .” Nico pulled away, looking at the painting. “It’ll work.”

“Are you sure?” Jo hated herself the instant the question left her lips. Nico’s head turned to her and the uncertainty—the panic—that filled his eyes made her heart sink to the bottom of her stomach like a lead weight.

“Only one way to find out, I suppose.” He reached out toward the painting, running his hands over the small mountains and grooves in the paint.

The instant panic of him smearing the recently completed work disappeared when the picture held firm—magic, no doubt. Jo stood, pulling her arms above her head, trying to pop the tension that sitting on the stool for such a long, tense amount of time had left. It didn’t work. Her body was as rigid as it had been the first moment she’d gotten to her feet.

“We should go, then?” She phrased it as a question, but what other option did they have?

“We should.” Nico lifted the canvas, barely wider than his chest, and took it over to the worktable where most of Samson’s food still remained untouched. Collecting some butcher paper and twine, he tied it in a sort of protective sling that could be worn over his shoulder.

“To the Shushō Kantei, then.”

“The what?” Nico asked, as he followed her from the door. The man stopped in the hallway, pointing to the other recreation room. “Do you need to do any of your computer magic first?”

Jo paused as well. “Computer magic” had a nice ring to it. If she was back in the real world, perhaps she’d exchange “Shewolf” for a moniker of her own creation, like “The Wizard.” Still, Jo shook her head at him. “This shouldn’t be too difficult. We’re evading guards and more simple security systems, not massive database firewalls. If I need anything, I have time enough to do it on the fly.”

Nico nodded and caught up. The faith he had in her made Jo’s chest swell. “How do you know where we’re going?” His question reminded her of Takako and the mugicha they shared.

“Japan shares a border with the Lone Star Republic. It’s pretty much standard education to learn about their government. Well, that, and I took a fairly recent interest when I realized how much more the Yakuza would pay for good work than other syndicates.” Talking felt good, Jo realized. It kept them on task, and it kept her mind from winding around and around with worry. “The Shushō Kantei is across from the National Diet Building of Japan. It’s where the Prime Minister lives and works.”

“If we don’t find him there?”

“Then he’s likely in the Diet Building.”

“And if—” Before Nico could finish what was no doubt an additional worry, he paused at the stop of the stairs.

Every other member of the Society (save Pan and Snow) sat in the Four-Way or right at the beginning of the hall that led to the common area. Eslar sat on a couch, reading, his air of calm unflappable. Samson was at his side, fiddling with some random object. Wayne lounged on the stairs across from them, flipping his nickel. And Takako stood by one of the tall windows. Jo wondered if she was looking at the mountains in the distance, filled with longing and concern for her home.

All heads turned when they appeared at the top of the stairs, and all eyes were on the canvas-shaped bundle slung over Nico’s shoulder.

“It’s done?” Eslar rose to his feet.

“It is.” Nico sounded far more confident than he ever looked in the recreation room.

“We wanted to see you off,” Wayne pointed out the obvious, rising as well and pocketing his nickel along with both hands. “Wish you luck.”

“Jo is coming with me,” Nico said quickly. “In case I need help getting in somewhere.”

“Smart idea.”

“Careful Eslar, or I’ll think you value me as a member of this team.” Jo took a shot at levity as she started down the stairs.

“Why, of course—”

“I’m kidding.” She gave him a small smile that relaxed the elf’s face as well. “We’ll be back soon.”

“Good luck,” she heard Samson’s small voice say after them, as they started toward the briefing room.

Jo folded her arms over her chest, then undid them. She put them on her hips, then let them sway at her sides. When had having arms become so awkward? Everything would be fine. Nico’s power was impressive and they had the whole team behind them. This would work.

Yet Jo found herself wishing Snow could’ve been there to see them off as well. As if, somehow, the presence of the Wish Granter himself could bestow some sort of innate blessing onto their mission. At the very least, seeing his face would’ve given her a much-needed boost of courage.

Without fail, by her own magic or the magic of the Door itself, the alphanumeric keypad seemed to light up only in Jo’s mind, pulling her fingers toward the numbers that would lead her to where she wanted to go. Eventually, Jo thought she might be compelled to figure out the pin system—how and why certain places had certain strings of numbers and how the other members knew them—but for the near future, she was content to let it remain a magical mystery.

Pulled through the portal to reality, the Texan and the Italian stepped onto Japanese soil.

Jo didn’t want to fuss with anything more than they had to. The more variables that were introduced on a project, the more room there was for error. This was fairly simple: get in, show the painting, leave.

“The Door could’ve put us right in his office.” Jo sighed heavily.

“It’s not an exact science.”

“It’s not science at all,” she said in exasperated agreement.

They found themselves in a clean if dated lobby. A receptionist busily answered phones, looking no doubt frazzled due to the extra commotion the panic had brought on. Jo felt some sympathy for the woman; it wasn’t her fault that her boss was being pig-headed.

“We could try again,” Jo suggested. “See if we can get closer to the office now that we’re here.”

“The Door has never worked that way.” Nico shook his head. “I’d rather not risk it, not when we’re already this close.”

Jo bit her tongue a moment, chewing over the fact that the Door had, indeed, worked that way for her on more than one occasion—notably their first wish. But she didn’t want to give any cause for Nico to panic or stress. If he didn’t want to make an attempt with the Door, they’d just go it on foot. “Come on, this way.”

“Do you know where you’re going?” Nico asked.

“Just a hunch. . .”

Jo followed the flow of people in the lobby toward a back elevator, walking undetected. She listened in on the chatter. Most of it was general government business; the cavalier attitude grated on her. If they didn’t start evacuations in the next twenty-four hours, it would be too late.

They emerged on an upper floor and Jo trailed behind one of the men she’d decided to follow from the elevator around the hall and up a short side stair to yet another reception area. However, unlike the main lobby of the building, this was much smaller. A single couch sat opposite a small desk where a woman greeted the man. Jo looked down the hall to a lone door bearing the white and red Japanese flag proudly.

“That must be the office,” she said, starting off in its direction.

The ease with which they’d managed to get this far astounded her. Because if there was one thing she’d learned early on, it was that no job ever went off “without a hitch.”

So she shouldn’t have been surprised, really, when she finally stood before the door and encountered a problem.

“Jo? What’s the matter?” Nico whispered, despite the fact that neither of them had their watches on. He was standing at her side, shifting the painting on his shoulder.

It wasn’t until then that Jo realized she’d been staring at the door, or more specifically the biometric security system attached to it, for a good couple of minutes, frozen under the weight of the unexpected lack of magical sensation. There wasn’t that same unraveling she usually felt. The lock didn’t transform into a deeper understanding before her eyes. It did. . . nothing.

She closed her eyes, trying to remember anything she’d seen or heard about the technology before her. Nada. Eyes still closed and mind whirring like an overheating, old, moving hard-drive, she tried to imagine what the tech on the inside might be like. There had to be a weakness somewhere she could exploit. Still nothing. No magical spark buzzing beneath her skin, no sense of the door’s secrets laying themselves bare at her feet.

With a huff, Jo let her eyes flutter back open.

“I’ve never seen a lock like this before,” she finally managed to mumble, brow furrowed in concentration as if she might be able to will her magic to work anyway.

“I see. . .” Nico said, even though his tone betrayed that he clearly did not understand.

A new thought had a spike of terror running down Jo’s spine. “Usually, that shouldn’t be an issue. But my magic isn’t working. It’s not—I can’t decipher anything.” She dug deep, trying to see if she felt any hint of it at all. Nothing, nothing, nothing. In fact, it almost felt like an absence of magic entirely; that part of herself that was now distinctly “other” felt almost empty, hollow, the more she stared at the lock. Her stomach dropped. Not now; her magic could fail any time but now. “It’s not helping me work out a way to break in like it normally does. I—”

“What do you mean?” Nico asked, voice equally panicked. “I don’t understand.”

Frantically, Jo peeled her eyes away from the biometric scanner, looking about the mostly empty hallway before landing on a wall-mounted thermostat.

Without a word to Nico, Jo rushed over to it, analyzing the make and model and recognizing it as one she’d seen installed in many of her higher-paying clients’ offices. It was based on a semi-artificial intelligence unit set to recognize the average heat signatures of the bodies within the building. It pinpointed algorithmic consistencies through the sensors in the smart bands everyone wore on their wrists, adjusting each floor to benefit the widest demographic.

Hardly a look was all it took for Jo to know exactly how she would be able to access those commands and issue a building-wide freeze or meltdown. She could feel the certainty of it in her veins, hear the echoing thrum of something ethereal yet distinctly her buzzing about between her ears.

The relief behind the realization was so potent she could taste it. Her magic was still working, after all. If she knew what she was dealing with. Nico’s earlier comments, before the start of the wish, returned to her.

“It’s my restriction.” The admission left a sour taste on her tongue.

“What is?”

“I can’t crack something apart unless I sort of know how it’s put together—at least the basics, I think. I have to see something of its guts. . . Without that fundamental knowledge, I’m useless.” She looked back at him, panic rising in her. He’d brought her to help him get where he needed to go and now she was going to fail him. Just like she’d already failed all of them. . . again.

“Everyone has their restrictions.” Nico put on a brave face, brave enough to dare a smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing we can’t work around.” Bless him.

“You’re right.” Jo leeched off his certainty. She’d been in tougher spots. Restrictions be damned, she could do this. “If I can’t break the lock, we just have to find another way in,” Jo said once she was back at Nico’s side.

“Likely for the best, really.” He looked back down the hall. “Even if you could break into it, you’d have to have your watch active. If we clocked into time now, we’d surely be noticed.”

Jo nodded in agreement. Simply unlocking the prime minister’s door and strolling in was out of the question. They had to find another way to get the door open without causing a scene.

“Okay, okay.” Jo ran both hands through her hair before clapping them hard on Nico’s shoulders. He jumped, but otherwise made no motion to shake off the touch. “We need someone else with access. Someone else he’d trust with entry to his personal office. Maybe like, a cabinet member? Or the deputy prime minister? Something?” But where were they supposed to find someone who prime minister Nakamura would answer his door for? Especially in a crisis like this one? And with what time?

“Maybe we don’t need somebody that high up.” Nico’s voice pulled her away from the spiraling “what ifs” and back to their present situation. He, too, seemed to be lost in thought, looking off in another direction, focus unwavering and expression set with fierce determination. It was the same resolve she’d seen when he took up the torch the rest of them had all but extinguished.

She followed that gaze back to the desk situated at the front of the hall like a guard post. A woman, likely the prime minister’s secretary, sat, chatting with the man they had followed up to this floor to begin with. All at once, Nico’s plan of action solidified amidst the growing details of her own.

“You’re a genius, Nico!” She nearly laughed, her hands finally falling from Nico’s shoulders as she began another quick search of the other offices on this floor. All she needed now was an open door and an active third-party computer, and they’d be golden. “Wait here. This won’t take long!”

Jo sprinted back down the hall to one of the larger main areas. A door several yards ahead swung open, and Jo doubled her pace as she b-lined for entry. A distracted businessman exited, more focused on his phone than anything else—especially not a phantom outside of time sprinting toward the room.

Please don’t shut the door. Jo prayed silently. Please, please don’t shut the door.

Popping out of time to let herself into the man’s office surely wouldn’t go unnoticed. Discovery would force them to abort, pull out of time again, and wait until the chaos their presence caused died down. The prime minister would perhaps leave for a more secure area, and they’d have to figure out a way to follow. All of which wasted time they barely had.

Luckily, the distracted businessman remained exactly that, rushing out of his office without bothering to close his door, leaving it wide open for any lucky wish granter to take advantage of. From there, it was simply a matter of jumping back into time, hacking into the computer’s communications systems, and accessing the right connection.

“Let’s get into your email. . .” Jo crouched down behind the desk, peering up at the oversized monitor she hoped would hide her from any wandering eyes. “Dear miss secretary. . . looks like your boss needs you,” Jo paraphrased as her fingers typed with a magical command of the Japanese language.

Jo had no doubt that it wouldn’t do them any good if the secretary called the prime minister; the man was probably too busy dooming his country to deal with any of her problems beyond a curt reply over the phone. But if he were to request her presence—

Letting a combination of magic and skill flow down from eyes to fingertips, Jo sent the email from the prime minister’s personal line to the secretary’s desk. Even from around the corner and a few doors down, she heard the beep beep of a message received almost instantly. Jo clicked her way out of the various windows she’d opened, made a hasty cleanup of her work, turned off her watch, and hurried back to Nico.

He was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as she sprinted down the hall, half watching her approach, half watching the secretary get to her feet. The woman crossed swiftly to the prime minister’s door, leaving the man she’d been speaking to waiting on the couch.

They’d have seconds, if that, to get past her once she opened the door, but it was their only chance. And they were going to take it.

The secretary placed her hand over the biometric lock and Jo watched carefully: still, no magical understanding. But the lock opened, and that was all that mattered. When she cracked the door open with zero room for them to get past, Jo’s heart somehow managing to plummet into her stomach and jump into her throat simultaneously. The sudden look of anxious fear on Nico’s face said he felt the same way. What would they do now? There wasn’t enough room for them to squeeze through.

But as if the gods of ironic fate had decided to share with her the gift of convenient memory, Jo found herself thinking back to the Rangers compound.

Snow and she had walked at a casual pace down the hallways, never once diverging from their path. All the while, they remained unnoticed, and despite the many occasions that Ranger personnel could have collided with them unknowingly, they’d somehow (subconsciously, magically, or otherwise) chosen to go around them. The elevator had been the same—cramped, yet none of the other businessmen and politicians there had decided to even try to occupy the little bit of space in the corner where Jo and Nico had stood invisible. It was just a hunch, but Jo ran with it, stepping in front of Nico and inching towards the secretary’s right side.

The woman was in the process of inquiring as to the prime minister’s concerns when Jo managed to get a foot between the Japanese woman and the door. There was no movement, and Jo felt her chest clench in steadily rising panic. Still, she tried to inch her hip into the smallest amount of open space the woman’s leaning frame provided; to maintain her balance, she pressed her hands ever-so-slightly against the secretary’s right hip.

The barely-there touch might as well have been Jo asking the secretary to step aside, what with the way she abruptly pulled back from the door to bow in apology at the prime minister’s confusion and annoyance. The polite motion gave them ample room to get not just Jo, but Nico and the painting inside without issue.

By the time the secretary ushered herself out with one final, profuse apology for bothering him unnecessarily, they were situated in front of the prime minister’s desk. For a breath or two, Nico and Jo just stood there, watching the face of the man standing between them and the deaths of hundreds of thousands of his citizens—content, it would seem, to pour over what looked to be poll numbers instead. It was surreal, knowing that so many lives rested on this moment, this second, of precious, borrowed time.

“You ready?” Jo asked, even though it didn’t matter. Nico nodded, but his trembling hands said otherwise; he understood, too. Whether they were ready or not, this was happening in “Three, two, one.”

Nico jumped back into time and held up the painting in the same fluid motion.

Jo held her breath.