The People v. Eleanor Warwick

Mist falls upon the small plants, droplets forming on their delicate leaves.

The hiss of the spray bottle echoes in the silent apartment. Three of the potted plants have spread their wings, embracing the sunlight that streams through the sixth floor window by day. One of them continues to struggle. It tries so hard to grow like the others, but it fails.

It reminds Cassandra of her House: Fighting to flourish, to recover from being ripped from its roots. If she has anything to say about it, the plant will thrive.

A cat leaps from the floor to the table alongside the window. Smiling slightly at her feline friend, Cassandra rubs her under the chin. The cat shows her approval with a soft purr.

Turning back to the plants, Cassandra brushes her bangs from her face and raises her pruning shears, prepared to perform a bit of maintenance.

It’s then she notices the tremble in her hand. The powerful pressure builds quickly in her temples. Dropping the shears, she staggers away from the window, her vision blurring. She’s unconscious before she hits the floor.

A rough tongue licking her nose brings her back.

The cat stares at her, cocking her head to the side and meowing in concern. Sitting up slowly, Cassandra rubs her temples and looks at her watch.

Almost an hour.

Coming to her feet, she moves to the sink and splashes water on her face. Looking up into the mirror above, she sees the paleness that covers her countenance. With deep and slow breaths, she collects herself.

Her labors are nearly complete, but her body is rejecting her mind’s obsession. It demands a break. She just has to hang in there a little longer. Then she can rest.

Gentle rapping at the door prompts her to turn off the sink and move to answer it. Quickly popping back to the mirror, she smooths out her hair and dabbed some water from her eyes. Stepping to the door, she slightly adjusts her blouse before opening it.

A middle-aged, dark-haired man waits on the other side with a brown grocery bag. His black blazer and gray turtleneck fit him like a glove. Flashing the confident, friendly smile that has served him very well, he shifts the bag from one arm to the other. “Cassandra.”

“Joseph.”

“May I come in?”

“Of course,” she answers, stepping to the side.

Joseph Traveski enters the apartment and heads for the small island that comprises the majority of her kitchenette. Setting the bag down, he glances around at the empty space of her living room. “Still going for a minimalist thing, eh?” he asks with a smile.

“Something like that.”

“Well, I like it.” Digging into the bag, he removes small white boxes from the paper sack. “Knowing you as I do, I know you haven’t eaten. So I picked up Chin- .” Cassandra’s cat hops up onto the island and hisses hatefully at the guest. Joseph staggers backward, fright apparent. “Jesus!” He looks to his host. “Your cat hates me, too?”

“That’s Grace.”

Turning back, he gives the pet a confused look. “I thought Grace was a bird.”

“Cat. Bird. Spider. She’s whatever I need her to be.” Cassandra lifts the feline up in the air, nuzzling her nose. “Aren’t you, baby? You are whatever mommy needs. Yes, you are.” Grace purrs lovingly. Cassandra cradles the cat in her arms. “Besides, she doesn’t hate you.”

“She’s got a funny way of showing it.”

“She’s just protective. She- .” Cassandra cuts herself off as she spies something in Joseph’s bag. Dropping Grace onto the counter, she reaches in and removes a pricy bottle of wine. Cocking her head to the side, she offers Joseph a quizzical glare.

“I, uh,” Traveski rubs the back of his neck, “didn’t think this visit had to be entirely about business.”

Placing the bottle on the island, she crosses her arms. “Well, let’s take care of business first. I got the Stone.”

“That’s great. May I see it?”

The wizard steps over to her small table of plants. Reaching underneath, she produces a briefcase. Returning to the island, she places it on the counter and pops it open.

A faint blue light illuminates Traveski’s awed face. “Oh, wow. This is...this is incredible.”

Cassandra does not miss the hesitation in his voice. “Something wrong, Joseph?”

“No, no. It’s just actually seeing the thing is a little...daunting.”

“Why?”

Joseph gives her a surprised look. “Are you serious? These things are extremely dangerous.”

“Everything powerful is.”

“Yeah, but...” Traveski trails off, mentally debating whether or not this conversation will upset his partner. “The thing is...is this ritual really necessary?”

Cassandra stares at him.

“I mean, there’s only one Warwick left. Why not just kill her and be done with it? House Warwick will be finished.”

“That’s not enough. House Warwick must pay and House Crane must regain its rightful position.”

“I understand. I just don’t want to see this blow up in your face.”

A slight smile crosses her visage. “Your concern is appreciated, but I know what I’m doing. Now, about the torrent?”

“Of course.” Clearing his throat, Joseph’s smile disappears. “The torrent is coming along nicely. Containment hasn’t been an issue.” He pauses.

“But?” she asks with a brow raised.

“But, it’s not yet up to your specifications.”

Traveski cringes at her heavy sigh. “I need that torrent, Joseph.”

“I know. But I can’t rush it. If I lose containment...well, bad things are going to happen.”

Cassandra steps away and begins to pace around, staring at the floor and muttering softly.

Traveski hates this part. He likes Cassandra. A lot. He might even love her. But she isn’t the most mentally stable woman he’s ever met. She doesn’t handle disappointment well, either. Hoping to stop her before she drifts into her own little world, Joseph takes her by the arms and turns her to look at him.

“Cass? Look at me.” Deep brown eyes, slightly edged with a creeping madness turn up to him. “It’s going to be all right. The torrent will just take a few more days. I won’t let you down. I swear.”

After a few moments of silent staring, Cassandra takes a deep breath and brushes back her copper hair. “I’m sorry. I know you won’t. I’ve just- ,” she turns away from him. “I’ve just been getting so tired. So...worn.”

Joseph steps closer and places his hands on her shoulders. “Are you still getting the blackouts?”

“Yes,” she answers without looking at him. “They’re becoming more frequent and for longer periods of time. I’m so close now, Joseph. I can’t fail.”

“You won’t.” Traveski brushes her copper hair aside and gently kisses her neck.

She closes her eyes and breathes deeply as his hands move slowly down her arms and find her waist. “Joseph.”

“Please,” he answers softly in her ear. “Once you perform your ritual, we may never meet.”

Turning to face him, Cassandra offers an understanding gaze. “I guarantee we won’t.”

“And I will help you every way I can regardless.” Joseph takes her hands in his. “But I can’t let you go without spending at least one night with you.”

“I’m sorry, Joseph.” she answers, hanging her head. “I care about you. But I...I can’t.”

Placing a hand under her chin, Joseph lifts her head to face him. “I understand.” Bringing her hand to his mouth, he places a gentle kiss. “Now, you look like you could use a bite to eat.”

Smiling as Traveski scurries back to the island, Cassandra looks to the Tempus Stone. The blue light soothes her somewhat. Joseph is right about the rock being dangerous. She just hopes she’s right about knowing what she’s doing. As soon as the thought forms, she chases it away. Self-doubt is not something she can afford at this juncture.

“Dinner is served,” Traveski calls.

Glancing over her shoulder, she nods. Turning back to the Stone, she reaches out and traces the engraved circle with her finger.

She’s so close. She wishes she could see the look on Martin Warwick’s treacherous face when his House falls. She’ll have to settle for his ancestor. Eleanor Warwick has a reputation for being a meddler. If she somehow found out about the plan...

Grace rubbing against her leg brings her eyes down to the floor. “Then you might have yourself another snack, baby.”

“What’s that?”

“Nothing,” she responds and closes the case.