The People v. Eleanor Warwick

The apartment building in Collinsville is nice enough.

Hardly the best Carmadie has to offer, but not bad. There’s no doorman, but visitors do have to be buzzed in. Eleanor doesn’t like the chances of that happening. Beck’s GPS led her there but now seems a tad confused. All it has to say for itself is that it’s recalculating.

Shielding her eyes from the mid-morning sun, she scans the structure. By her estimation, the building has over fifty apartments. The Stone could be in any one of them.

Dropping the GPS into her pocket, Eleanor cast a quick detection spell. She senses a basic trigger ward, incredibly common among House-less wizards. Such wards are cast with a certain condition in mind. If those conditions are met, they will trigger an effect. This one is among the most common. It’s on the alert for magic cast within its range.

Making a note of the ward’s general location, Eleanor turns from the building and heads toward the Hornet, which awaits along the curbside. Henry scans the passing pedestrians while Jessie leans against the car, glaring at nothing. “There’s a wizard living there, no question.”

“Seems like the polite thing to do would be to go up and knock,” Henry replies.

“Let’s call that plan B.” Eleanor smacks the side of the GPS. “The Tempus Stone might not be in there anymore. I’d know for sure if this damn thing would work. What does it mean when it’s recalculating?”

“It means it’s having to recalculate.”

Eleanor doesn’t bother looking at Jessie. “Thank you. That’s very helpful. I’m sure Mr. Towles can fix it for you when he gets here.”

Jessie comes off the Hornet as if it’s on fire. “What?”

“I need his help here. He’s better with this thing than I am. Plus, he’s a detective, kind of. Finding things is what he does.”

“And why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

“I figured you wouldn’t have come.”

“Damn right! I don’t want this guy around! He’s gonna fall in love with me or something! Right, Henry?”

“Leave me out of this,” The elder wizard answers, strolling away from the two of them.

Grumbling in aggravation, she turns her attention back to Eleanor. “I can’t believe you were just gonna spring this shit on me.”

“Look, I’m sorry, but we can’t let the Stone slip away. We need to make absolutely sure that we’re using every resource we have. And for now, he’s a resource.”

“Bullshit. You could have figured that thing out by now if you wanted to.”

“Well, I was going to get Mr. Towles to show me everything there was to know about it, but I seem to recall someone interrupting us and telling me to beat it.”

The hellblood stares at her for a moment before cursing under her breath and conceding. She leans back against the car, arms crossed.

Smirking at her victory, Eleanor glances back down at the GPS and her expression shifts. “Wait a minute. I’ve got it.”

Henry turns back to the duo. “Don’t keep us in suspense, girl.”

“It’s...,” Eleanor takes a closer look before raising her head, “right across the street.”

The trio turns to the narrow driveway that runs in between a corner store and a five-story office building. There is no one in the alley itself, but the device indicates that the Stone was in the area. Eleanor heads across the street with a purpose.

Her mouth feels dry as she approaches the alleyway. All considered, they have been extraordinarily lucky so far. She had been right about Beck smuggling the Stone even though it was nothing more than a guess. She certainly never expected to find a GPS that would actually lead them right to it.

One thing Eleanor has learned is luck never lasts. Something is going to throw a wrench in the works very soon. Whoever has the Stone was willing to kill to get it. They will certainly kill to keep it.

Stopping just short of the passage, she waits for Jessie and Henry to catch up. From their new vantage point, they see a grimy access tunnel in the back of the alley.

Such tunnels are scattered all over the city. Most are subway platforms rendered redundant by upgrades. They’re popular amongst urban explorers, drug dealers, and the homeless. The city barricaded and padlocked them, but they usually didn’t stay that way for long.

“I hope you realize I’m not going anywhere near that disgusting hole in Armani,” Henry says with his typical superiority.

“Oh, and I’m just chomping at the bit to go down there,” Eleanor answers sarcastically.

Jessie rolls her eyes and turns away from them, quickly turning back when she sees Marvin Towles approaching. She mutters curses under her breath until he arrives.

“Morning, Team Warwick,” the investigator says jovially. The two wizards meet him with unwelcoming looks. “What? Am I late?”

“It’s far too early for the likes of use to be up and about, Marvin. We’re operating on very little sleep,” Henry responds. “Your cheerful disposition is offensive.”

“What the fuck do you have to be so worn out over? Does condescension really take it out of a guy?”

The elder wizard only spares Jessie a glance. “You have no idea.”

“Let’s focus, people.” Eleanor pockets the GPS and steps toward the tunnel entrance. “The Stone has to be down there. We need to strike before it moves again.”

“You better be sure, Warwick,” Jessie warns. “If I have to go through that nasty shit and it’s not, I’m gonna be pissed.”

With a cluck of her tongue, Eleanor turns back to the group. “Well, if you’ve suddenly developed a weak stomach, I’ll just go down there without you.”

“Like hell you will,” she responds with a scoff.

Eleanor stares a moment. “What, exactly, is that supposed to mean?”

“Hmm,” Henry interjects. “It sounds like she was saying that you don’t have the guts to go down there without her.”

“That’s not what she was saying.”

“I don’t know. That...that kinda sounded like what she was saying,” Marvin agrees.

“That’s not what she was saying.”

“That’s exactly what I was saying.”

“What?” Eleanor looks at her, exception obvious in her voice. “Seriously?”

The hellblood only offers a shrug.

“Think about it, girl. For weeks, you’ve been letting her do all the heavy lifting. It’s only natural to wonder if you’ve lost your edge.”

Her mentor siding with her critics is hardly surprising, so Eleanor doesn’t look away from Jessie’s hard, hazel orbs. “I hate to break this to you, but I was doing this kind of thing before you came along and I’ll be doing it after you’re gone.”

Jessie just stares back at her.

Turning on her heels, Eleanor paces toward the tunnel. “I’ll be back with the Stone. In the meantime, make yourselves useful and get the names from the mailboxes in the apartment building across the street. Maybe we can get some kind of idea as to what wizard lives there. Think you can handle that?”

Henry and Jessie look at each other, both implying she intended her instructions for the other. “Don’t look at me,” Henry says. “You’re the one on the payroll.”

“Hey,” Marvin chimes in. “So am I. We could do it together.”

Jessie turns and glares at him.

“Or I could go do it myself,” he answers before scurrying across the street.

Henry watches the investigator go with a curious look. He then levels an accusatory gaze at Jessie. “You left the door open, didn’t you?”

“No.”

“Well, then you must be unbelievable in bed.”

“Hey, shut the fuck up!”

Henry shakes his head and looks away.

This is stupid, Eleanor thinks as she carefully descends the concrete stairs that lead down into the access tunnel. There is way too much riding on this for me to be trying to prove a point.

Yet despite those thoughts, she continues down into the darkness alone. Halfway down, she realizes how lucky she is that she didn’t eat breakfast that morning. The stench of the abandoned subway is overpowering. It’s a nauseating combination of sewage, garbage, and rotting carcasses. Animal carcasses, hopefully.

The smell is hardly surprising given the thick, crusty layers of filth and grime that cover nearly every surface. Whoever is down there, they clearly value privacy over cleanliness or even dignity.

Once she makes it down the stairs, Eleanor hops over a rusty, cobwebbed turnstile. She walks out onto a dilapidated subway platform. Her steps leave prints behind in the thick dust.

The platform features standard equipment: Newsstands, restrooms, and payphones. These, of course, look like they haven’t been used in several decades.

Before she can explore much further, she notices a faint blue light emanating from beneath a nearby door. Approaching slowly, she presses her ear against the barrier and listens.

Silence.

Eleanor reaches for the doorknob but stops herself. The old passage will likely creek, alerting her quarry. Instead, she passes through the obstruction with ease thanks to some quick intangibility.

It’s a handy little spell. Easy to cast and light on exertion, but not one she would ever use on anything other than a thin surface like a door. Re-materializing inside a solid object is something she tries to avoid for obvious reasons.

On the other side, Eleanor finds a surprisingly clean maintenance tunnel that runs alongside the subway line. She quickly spies the source of the soft azure light. The egg-shaped Tempus Stone floats in the air, discharging shimmering tendrils of energy in every direction. More of a concern is the copper-haired woman standing nearby.

The woman holds both hands near the Stone but isn’t touching it. Her eyes are closed. Eleanor scans the ground near her. Numerous runes are scratched onto the concrete with charcoal. Eleanor doesn’t recognize the symbols. Pulling out her phone, she takes a quick pic of the site for future study.

The phone makes a soft shuttering sound.

Cassandra’s eyes pop open. Both women yelp in surprise and jump back from each other. There’s an awkward silence as they size each other up.

“Hey,” Eleanor says before immediately grimacing. She wishes she could have come up with something better.

“You.” Cassandra stares in bewilderment. “It...it can’t be you.”

Eleanor raises an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, do we know each other?”

“No. No, it can’t be. You can’t be here. You can’t.”

A strange glint in her eyes worries Eleanor. She didn’t seem like she was firing from all cylinders. She clutched the Stone against her breast like it was her child.

“Listen. I don’t know who you think I am but- .”

“You are Eleanor Warwick!” Her eyes grow sharper as her voice raises. “Heir to House Warwick!”

“Right. What’s your name?”

Cassandra only glares.

“Okay. I don’t know who you are, but, and I’m very sorry about this, I’m going to have to ask you to hand over that Stone.”

Cassandra looks down into her hands and then back to Eleanor. Her eyes burn with a furious glare. “You want to take it from me? Of course you do. Just like you’ve taken everything else.”

Shaking her head, Eleanor puts her hands up show she isn’t looking for a fight. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’m sure we can work it out. I do really need you to hand over the Stone, though.”

“You can play dumb all you like. We both know what Martin Warwick did. The lives he destroyed. The betrayal he masterminded.”

Befuddled, Eleanor looks the woman over. “Who are you?”

“My name is Cassandra Crane. I don’t expect you to recognize that name, but- .”

“Crane. As in House Crane. One of the first major Houses in this country.”

Taken aback, Cassandra’s mouth hangs open a moment before she gathers herself. “You...you know?”

“I read a lot.”

“Then you understand what your ancestor did.”

“I understand he took down the head of the House. Harold Crane, if I’m not mistaken. He was practicing necromancy. The House never recovered.”

“Lies!” Cassandra’s response is so forceful Eleanor almost takes a step back. “Harold was not a necromancer and Martin knew it! He destroyed our House to clear the way for the rise of his own!”

Eleanor begins a comeback but stops herself. “Arguing about something that happened a few centuries before we were born isn’t going to get us anywhere. I’d be happy to discuss it further, but I need you to give me the Stone. Now.”

“You can have the Stone when I’m finished with it.” Eleanor tenses when Cassandra slides a hand into her coat pocket. “Of course by then, House Warwick will have been erased.”

Lifting her hand out of the pocket reveals a little brown snake wrapped around her wrist. Without breaking eye contact, Cassandra brings the reptile to her lips and kisses it on the head. The snake stares at Eleanor as her tongue whips in and out. “You know what to do, baby.”

Kneeling, Cassandra allows Grace to slither off her arm and onto the concrete. With a sigh, Eleanor stares down at the small pet. “I hate to disappoint you, Cassandra, but I’m not afraid of snakes.”

She doesn’t answer, but Eleanor can swear that a small smile curls the edge of her lips. She isn’t certain because the alarmingly fast growth of the reptile blocks her view.

She tilts her head upward as Grace soon has to pull her body in tight in order to fit in the confines of the tunnel. Huge, beady eyes stare down at Eleanor as though she’s a dead mouse and Grace is ready to feed.

“Oh, well, g-giant snakes are, uh, a different matter.”