The People v. Eleanor Warwick

Jessie grumbles as the duo enter the library.

“She could be anywhere in this damn place. How do you even know we’re going the right way?”

Coming to a sudden halt in front of her, Eleanor glances around the room. “She’s through there,” she determines.

The hellblood scoffs. “What the hell makes you so damn- .” Jessie takes note of the open bookcases and the corridor behind them. “Oh.”

She makes an immediate pace for the passage, but Eleanor stops her. “Hold on, Jessie. We need a plan.”

“I have a plan. I’m going to stomp her sorry ass into putty.”

“You aren’t going to be able to stomp anything while she has that Stone. The power coming off it was enormous. As long as she has it, we won’t be able to beat her.”

“So what then? We go home and wait to be erased?”

“No.” Eleanor hesitates. “We have to let her start the ritual.”

Jessie’s brows arch. “Are you out of your fuckin’ mind?”

“Once the ritual starts, she’ll have to use the Stone to power it. That’s when we’ll strike.”

“Hell of a gamble.”

“It’s better than no chance at all.”

Jessie’s clearly uncomfortable with the plan. Eleanor can’t blame her. She isn’t crazy about it either, but Cassandra would crush them if allowed to draw on the power of the Stone.

“All right, Warwick,” the hellblood replies, still not convinced. “I guess you know what you’re doing.”

A slight smile curls Eleanor’s lips. It’s validating to know she has some sort of credibility with Jessie. The expression draws a suspicious glare. She quickly wipes it off her face. “Let’s go.”

If the spiraling passage was designed to be ominous, then Eleanor would have to give the architect credit. The tunnel feels like it closes in on them as it twists downward. The air is old and stale, difficult to breathe.

Droplets of sweat bead on her forehead. She hopes it’s nerves. She doesn’t feel any warmer, which is good. If she did, the descent into Hell imagery would be hard to shake.

None of this bothers Jessie. She marches down the incline with fearless drive. Eleanor knows she wants blood. In this particular case, she’s glad. They have to stop Cassandra. Even if it has to get really ugly. Jessie is good at ugly.

The descent takes longer than Eleanor hoped. It gives her too much time to think. She wonders how the world would be different without House Warwick. There would be no treaties, no Arkshire. Unless others step in and create them instead. That seems unlikely. Someone else would have to have the exact same motivations, resources, and philosophies.

She considers the fate of her friends. Henry’s life would be dramatically altered without House Warwick. Eleanor couldn’t imagine how. Would Penny die in the street if she weren’t there? Probably not, she concludes. The only reason Hines attacked her in the first place was because of her association with Eleanor. Who knows, maybe her life would be better.

Jessie’s fate is clear, or at least as clear as completely hypothetical speculation can possibly be. Their paths didn’t cross until Jessie was minutes away from being bound by Kenneth Adler. Without her to intervene, Jessie would likely be a vicious enforcer for House Adler. Of course, something could have happened to Adler that hadn’t happened in the past she knows. Or to Jessie. Or her parents, thus her never being born.

The more Eleanor tries to think about it, the more it makes her head hurt. It’s proof positive that messing with time is a terrible idea.

Luckily, the duo reaches the bottom, causing her to dismiss the speculation and focus. Swirling blue lights cover the large cavern into which they slowly step.

Jessie looks up at the towering tornado of arcane power. Her large hazel eyes reflect an azure tint. “What the fuck is that?” she asks in a hushed tone.

“A torrent. A massive collection of magic.” Eleanor glances around. She grumbles at the lack of cover. The chamber is mostly empty, only the swirling mass of magic in the middle.

Jessie tenses noticeably when she spots Cassandra standing in front of the torrent. She does not appear to be aware of their presence. “I could drop that bitch before she even knows we’re here.”

Eleanor flexes her fingers. It’s true that the hellblood could close on Cassandra very quickly, but she still clutches the Tempus Stone. “No. We have to wait.”

Jessie grumbles but complies. She kneels, poised to charge at a moment’s notice.

Immediately second guessing herself, Eleanor paces behind Jessie. Cassandra holds the Stone up to the torrent as streams of magic continue to flow into the artifact. The azure discharge grows wider and brighter.

Eleanor drops down to a knee bedside Jessie. She narrows her eyes and watches closely. Cassandra releases her grip on the Stone. It levitates before drifting into the spinning torrent.

Once the rock crosses the plane of light, she taps the hellblood on her shoulder. “Now.”

Jessie shoots out of her crouch like an Olympic sprinter. She pushes off with tremendous force, tossing pebbles about. By the time Eleanor reaches her feet, Jessie is already halfway across the expanse.

Her eyes widen as Cassandra turns to face the charging hellblood. She stares fearlessly as she lifts the Stone, still resting in her hand.

The rock flares as blue flame suddenly engulfs her would-be attacker. Jessie shrieks in pain and panic. She flails her limbs wildly before dropping to the ground, attempting to put the fire out.

Eleanor knows the act is futile. She dashes toward her, but a burst of blue energy erupting in her path cuts her off. Rocks and dust scatter as she stumbles backward. She spies a sphere of power flying toward her through the plumes of debris.

Focusing her energies, she sidesteps the attack while reaching out with unseen forces. Snatching the sphere as it zips past, Eleanor pivots around, turning the attack’s momentum back toward Cassandra. With a swipe of the Stone, Cassandra shatters the sphere as though it were glass.

The two lock eyes. Her brown orbs are calm and confident. Eleanor glances at Jessie as she rolls around, crying in torment. In the split second it takes to glance to Jessie and back, Cassandra moved inches from her face.

Stumbling back with a start, Eleanor is unable to stop Cassandra from striking the Stone against her chest. A sudden burst of force knocks Eleanor off her feet. She hits the craggy floor flat on her back.

“You’re a fool, Warwick.” Cassandra speaks coolly as she stands over her. “I knew you were here the moment you stepped in.”

Eleanor curses herself for falling for Cassandra’s trick. “You can’t do this, Cassandra. You’ll destroy everything.”

“Only if I fail. And even if I do, my life was destroyed long ago.”

“So everyone has to go down with you?”

“If necessary,” she answers with no hesitation. “You should appreciate the irony of this situation: Using House Warwick’s secret hoard of power to eliminate them.”

“My House didn’t- .”

“Your denial is amusing. This torrent took decades to gather. A century perhaps. Siphoned from innocent children, lured here with the promise of education. Its very existence is a testament to the deceit of House Warwick.”

Eleanor wants to rebuff her but can’t be certain that it isn’t the case. Not after everything she’s come to accept about Martin Warwick’s actions.

“Your House has been a pox on this world.” The Stone flares as blue magic swirls around her hand. The energy forms into a curved blade. “It will be my pleasure to purge you.”

She raises the magic weapon high for a deathblow. Eleanor summons a shield but has serious doubts about being able to stop the Stone’s superior powers. Fortunately, she doesn’t need to.

Before Cassandra can drive the blade down, a flaming figure tackles her with furious force. She shouts in pain as the flames engulfing Jessie sear her. The torched hellblood roars in painful anger. Wrapping her arms around Cassandra and holding her tight, making certain to scorch her as much as possible.

Jessie’s fury burns almost as intensely as her body. She snarls a feral snarl as she presses her head into Cassandra’s face like a trash-talking boxer. Cassandra screams in agony as the hellblood’s black eyes glare at her through the flames. “Looked a lot more fun when it was burning me, didn’t it?”

As pain racks her body, Cassandra grasps the Stone, for comfort as much as anything. Energy builds around the artifact and flows through her body. Jessie feels pressure building between them, until it violently bursts.

Eleanor just made it to her feet when the shockwave rips through the cavern, knocking her back down.

Dirt kicks up, obscuring much of the chamber. The shroud parts when Jessie drops from above, landing with a hard thud. The wave extinguished the flames. Smoke rises from her.

Eleanor rushes over and kneels beside her. She places a hand on Jessie’s arm, only to sear her fingers. With a yelp, she jerks her hand back. Jessie groans as she struggles to stand. Eleanor begins to cast a healing spell but stops short as their foe emerges from the plumes.

Cassandra quickly launches another volley of magic spheres. Dashing away from Jessie, Eleanor dodges the attacks, albeit with dubious dexterity. The spheres strike the walls of the cavern and explode with arcane power. Cracks spread through the rock, tossing pebbles and dust into the air.

Throwing together a spell, Eleanor claps her hands together. A pulse spreads through the chamber. Cassandra tenses, but the wave washes over her with no ill effects. The spell passes over the numerous stalactites hanging from the ceiling, yanking them from the surface. The rocky spikes fall like rain.

Cassandra calmly raises the Stone above her head. The spikes come to a sudden halt. A simple gesture in the direction of Eleanor sends the stalactites toward her like large stone bullets.

Backpedaling desperately, Eleanor waves her hands about. She swats the projectiles away with telekinetic force, but the flow of spikes overwhelms her. Stumbling, she bumps into the wall. Giving up her defense, she ducks down just in time to avoid taking a stalactite in the face.

Rising, Eleanor leans against the wall and allows herself to sigh in relief. It’s premature. The rock behind her begins to ripple with blue light. Suddenly the wall is soft and enveloping. She falls backward as she is sucked in like quicksand.

Her head is within the sludge before she knows what’s happening. Visceral panic sets in as darkness surrounds her and her air supply is blocked. Eleanor claws futilely at the parts of the wall that remain solid.

Jessie comes to a knee and sees the stone consuming Eleanor. “Warwick!” she calls out as she rushes over.

She grasps Eleanor’s hand and pulls, but the pull of the rock is even greater than her demonic strength. Putting a foot on the solid stone, she pulls back with everything she has. Dirt and sweat combine to make her grip suspect. Eleanor’s hand slips out of her grasp. Jessie falls backward.

She returns to the wall just as the rest of Eleanor is enveloped. Trying to reach in for her, Jessie finds the stone to be solid once more. Balling up her fist, she pounds the wall with all her strength. The stone splits and chips, but she gets nowhere. With a furious roar, she spins on Cassandra. Launching herself forward, Jessie storms toward her with destructive intent.

Cassandra frowns at the hellblood’s charge before pointing the Stone toward her. The artifact flares, sending out rings of azure.

Jessie’s body shudders as if she’s run into a wall. A wave of force pushes her back as the rings pass by her. She loses her footing and tumbles along the floor. Digging her nails into the ground, Jessie ceases her fumbling.

Setting her feet, she presses forward. Black hair whips about as the force rocks her body. She can feel her teeth vibrating against the pressure. One slow step at a time, she closes the gap on her foe. Jessie squints, trying to protect her eyes from the equivalent of hurricane-force winds.

As the force waves wash over her, they continue striking the wall. The rock shakes as more and larger cracks spread.

Cassandra scowls as Jessie perseveres against her magic. As she grows closer, Jessie forces her eyes open wide as she snarls with hateful fury. Her confidence in her spell quickly fading, Cassandra clasps her free hand atop the Stone as well, adding more power to the waves.

The pressure greatly increases. Jessie covers her face with a forearm. As her footing begins to fail, the hellblood lashes out with her other hand.

No sooner has the strike landed than the spell finally sweeps her off her feet. Cassandra yelps and recoils as the incredible force throws Jessie backward.

Rock shatters and shakes as Jessie slams into the wall like a speeding car.

A smear of red colors Cassandra’s finger when she pulls it away from her face. She sneers at the sight of it. Jessie’s clawing nails left a cut on her cheek.

She has the power to crush Warwick without being touched, but her rabid dog proved more dangerous than she gave her credit for, given the ease with which she handled the hellblood in their first encounter.

Thoughts of the hellblood pass when Cassandra sees three bloodstained fingers where there had just been one. Blinking, her vision only gets worse as the edges of her fingers blur. “No!” she shrieks in terror. “Not now!”

She sways as dizziness begins to take her. Stumbling about, Cassandra starts to call upon the Stone to support her but stops. She needs the Stone for another task, one she knows she must perform while she can still think clear enough to do so. Turning to the torrent, Cassandra focuses her suspect mind.

Releasing the Stone, she guides it into the center of the twister. The torrent flares as the Stone resumes its siphoning. Closing her eyes, she speaks words of power. The runes ignite in blue flames as the swirling magic drains of color and turns a pale white. Cassandra raises her hands, steeling herself against the throbbing in her temples. The spinning of the torrent increases and the collected power thrusts upward.

The torrent swallows entire rooms of the academy as it breaks free of its confines and rises into the sky. Cassandra stares up at the swirling column with wide-eyed exhilaration. The power of the Stone takes over, driving the ritual as it begins its work.

Henry stands silent, tapping his thumb on his chin. He ignores Marvin as he fidgets nervously. Both perk up when Crane’s barrier suddenly drops.

“The thing!” Marvin stammers. “The thing is down! What do we do?”

“You do nothing,” Henry answers, removing his hat. Without another word, he takes a few steps toward the school. Before he gets far, a beam of ivory, easily three times as large as the blue one it replaces, shoots up into the sky. Willard stares as he senses the extraordinary power it generates.

Marvin steps up beside him. “What is that?”

Henry doesn’t get a chance to answer. The ephemeral white ripples in the air in front of him renders the question moot. Mouth agape, Marvin glances around to find numerous such curiosities all around them.

Glancing to the side, Marvin notices a misty, pale figure standing next to him. With a sudden start, he stumbles away, bumping into Henry. “Holy shit! What the hell is that?”

The featureless figure reacts similarly. It steps backward and lifts what appears to be a rifle. With a shriek, Marvin shields himself with his arms. After a few seconds, he lowers his limbs to see the figure running away. “Mr. Willard,” he asks, his voice desperate. “Will you please tell me something? Anything?”

Looking to the wizard, Marvin sees the last thing he expects on his face. Henry Willard is a man who always seemed to have everything under control. He exudes confidence and composure. Yet, it’s resigned despair that he wears on his aged face.

Placing his hat back on his head, Henry adjusts his coat. “It’s been nice knowing you, Marvin.”