The People v. Eleanor Warwick
Conflicted

Arkshire Academy is a one-of-a-kind facility.

Rumors persist of similar schools attempted in various places, but none developed into anything of note. Arkshire started as an ambitious idea concocted by Percy Warwick: a place for young wizards of significant potential to explore their powers away from the eyes of the unaware.

He put up most of the money for its construction and was its first headmaster. Things started slowly, with only a dozen or so students. By the time the Academy was celebrating its silver anniversary, it had expanded twice and was home to over a hundred students.

Not all of the Shadow Side’s movers and shakers attended the school, but many of them did. People view the Academy accepting you as proof positive that you are going to be somebody. It’s never that simple, of course. Many graduates go on to do nothing of note.

As Eleanor waits for the school’s current headmaster, she remembers getting the word that she was not accepted. She would be the first Warwick not to attend the prestigious institution that they founded.

Her father told her that it was all politics. He said that he had allowed control of Arkshire to slip away from House Warwick and now the Academy’s current leadership was cutting them out. He lied.

Eleanor knew this. She was ten, but she wasn’t an idiot. It was true that their House no longer controlled the school. However, that had little, possibly nothing, to do with the decision to reject her. She simply didn’t have the requisite ability. It upset her at the time, but now she’s glad she didn’t go. She likes to think that knowing her limitations has served her well.

Becoming headmaster of Arkshire requires high-level education and comes with a considerable salary. To say Eleanor was surprised they’re meeting in a blue-collar diner would be an understatement.

She sits at the counter and sips on a mediocre cup of coffee. The restaurant is busy. Not many join her on the red cushioned stools, but the booths along the walls are packed. The shipyard is nearby so she supposes she shouldn’t be surprised.

“Ms. Warwick.” Eleanor sits her mug down and comes to her feet. She turns to find the man’s hand already extended. “Joseph Traveski: Headmaster of Arkshire Academy. It’s a real pleasure.”

Eleanor accepts the hand. “Thank you for meeting me. I appreciate it.”

“No trouble at all. I was in town doing some fundraising. That place doesn’t pay for itself,” he says with a chuckle. “Probably think this is a weird place for a meeting, eh?”

“I did wonder.”

Traveski smirks as he takes the stool next to Eleanor. “This place has the best apple pie in the city. You have to try some.”

“If it’s all the same to you, Mr. Traveski, I’d like to get right to business.”

“All right.” Despite the headmaster’s agreement, he interrupts before Eleanor can get a word out. “We’ll have two slices of your apple pie please.” The waitress nods and goes to gather the order. “You’re going to love this. The crust is- .”

“Mr. Traveski, with all due respect, I don’t care about pie. I need to discuss something important with you.”

“I understand.”

“Do- ?”

“Let me first tell you that if I had been headmaster at the time, you would have been admitted. No questions asked.”

“Yeah,” Eleanor returns, annoyance in her voice. “That’s great. I- .”

“You may not have been up to snuff, power wise speaking, but you were a legacy.”

“As little as I care about pie, I care even less about that.”

A small glass platter is set in front of them. A large cut of crispy apple pie tops each. Traveski immediately takes up his fork. “Mmm,” Traveski murmurs as he takes a whiff of the dessert. “Wonderful.”

Eleanor bristles as the headmaster digs in. It’s times like this Jessie’s impulsive bluntness would be a godsend. She would probably slam his face into his pie. The thought brings a smirk to Eleanor’s face.

She wishes Jessie was there.

“Mr. Traveski, does the name Cassandra Crane mean anything to you?”

He offers a glance and a shrug. “Should it?”

“She’s a wizard who is currently in possession of a Tempus Stone. I’m not sure what she plans to do with it, but I have reason to suspect that she’s not of sound mind.”

“That’s horrible,” Traveski answers, but his voice does not match his words.

Eleanor narrows her eyes at his lack of reaction. Tempus Stones are dangerous in the wrong hands. A wizard of questionable sanity certainly falls into that category.

“She seems to have it in her head that her ancestors were betrayed by my ancestors and that seems to be a good enough reason for her to kill me.”

Again, the headmaster’s response lacks genuine concern. “That’s very troubling, Ms. Warwick. However, I fail to see what this has to do with me or the Academy?”

“I found a brochure for Arkshire in her apartment. She has no children that I can tell. It made me wonder if perhaps she was researching the school for a different reason.”

“Like taking a part in whatever she’s scheming?”

“Precisely.”

“Well, let me assure you that Arkshire Academy is not involved in anything shady,” he answers without looking away from his pie.

Traveski’s blasé attitude is infuriating. Eleanor isn’t sure what she expected, but some sort of concern would be nice. Again, she wonders what Jessie would do. This time, however, she takes the idea and runs with it. Eleanor comes off her stool and swats the fork out of the headmaster’s hand.

As the small nickel utensil clangs to the floor, Traveski looks up at her with obvious shock. The bright blue eyes behind thick-framed glasses are sharp and accusing. “You don’t seem very concerned by any of this information. Seems a little suspicious.”

Swallowing nervously, the headmaster turns back to his platter. The waitress comes over to them with an eyebrow raised. Traveski offers her a weak smile. “Sorry about that. Butterfingers.” With a doubtful grunt, the waitress hands him a new fork. He takes another bite of his pie before looking to Eleanor. “Please sit, Ms. Warwick.”

Eleanor wrinkles her nose but complies. Traveski stares forward as he slowly chews. “Have you ever been conflicted, Ms. Warwick? So conflicted that you feel like your insides are being twisted up?”

A brief memory of Lansing Park at three o’clock on an autumn morning flashes in Eleanor’s mind. “Yes.”

“I was sitting right here, this actual stool, when she walked in. She was a vision. A beautiful woman, but there was also this…kind of cloud hanging over her. It was like a sadness she carried around. Turned out she wasn’t here by accident. She was looking for me. She had heard a rumor; a myth about the Academy.”

“What myth?”

“That there’s a torrent of arcane energy that is slowly siphoned from our students. The rumor is that it’s been building since the school opened and now it’s the most powerful in the world.”

Eleanor edges closer. “What does she want?”

Turning to the wizard, Traveski’s eyes are sunken. Divulging the information is difficult for him. “She wants to return her House to prominence. To change the past.”

The headmaster returns to his platter as Eleanor stares at him, stunned. Changing the past. Re-writing history.

Using magic to manipulate the flow of time is actually quite common. A wizard can slow things down, making them appear to possess lightning-fast reflexes. It’s a standard spell, but Shadow Siders universally avoid trying to change events.

Time is a delicate thing, easily disrupted. A timeline disrupted would be catastrophic. Fortunately, such an act would require power that no single wizard possesses.

“She…she couldn’t possibly. That’s insane.”

“Insane or not, it’s what she wants.”

Eleanor leans her elbows on the counter and rests her chin on her hands. Cassandra’s comments suddenly make more sense. She said she would erase House Warwick. At the time, Eleanor just assumed it was a metaphor, but it seems the wizard was being quite literal.

“Can she do it?”

“She would need the Stone and the torrent.”

“But the torrent is just a myth?”

“Yes,” Traveski hesitates, “but I…told her it was real.”

“Why would you do that?” Eleanor asks, brow furrowed.

The headmaster sighs. Staring at his nearly empty platter, he struggles to find the words he wants to say. “I was married once, Ms. Warwick. We were together for only a few years before my wife passed away.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but what- ?”

“Cassandra reminds me of her. My wife was an artist. She was moody and eccentric. We were an unusual pair. It’s strange, isn’t it?” he asks with a slight smile crossing his face. “How we can fall so head over heels for people so different from us?”

Eleanor stares at nothing momentarily. “Yeah. It certainly is.”

“People said we were crazy to get married. They said we were headed for disaster. But while our marriage was short, we were happy.”

Maybe there’s hope after all, Eleanor thinks. Perhaps she and Jessie isn’t such a crazy idea. It’s not at all what she expected to take from the meeting with Traveski, but it is, nonetheless, something to think about.

She attempts to get the conversation back on track, but her mind is preoccupied. “How did you make it work?”

“There’s no real secret,” the headmaster answers with a shrug. “You just have to be understanding and patient. You have to accept the other person for exactly what they are and above all, you both have to be madly in love. Sappy, I know, but there it is.”

Eleanor nods as Traveski speaks. Therein lay the rub. Madly in love. Understanding and patience. She doesn’t think she’s in love and Jessie certainly isn’t patient or understanding. A quick thought to all the times she lost her temper with Jessie over the last few weeks corrects her. Neither of them are particularly understanding or patient with the other.

Shaking her head, Eleanor tries to get back to the point. “So, when Crane finds out that you lied; what is she going to do?”

Traveski takes a deep breath. “She’ll be angry. Dangerously so.”

“All right. Well, the way I see it, you need a way out of this and I need the Stone. I think we can help each other out.”

“I’m listening.”

“Call her and set up a meeting. We’ll both be there waiting for her.”

With a sigh, Traveski pulls out his phone, but only stares at it. “I don’t know. This feels wrong.”

“It’s either this or- .” The ringing of Eleanor’s own cell cuts her off. “Excuse me.” With a nod from Traveski, she answers the phone. “Yeah, Marvin, what is it?”

As Eleanor listens to the investigator, Traveski watches her closely. “All right. Stay in the car. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Hanging up, Eleanor looks back to the headmaster. “She’s home. My partner is already there. We can end this right now. Are you in?”

Hesitation clear, Traveski turns back to his empty platter. “I’m sorry, Ms. Warwick. I…I can’t.”

“I understand,” Eleanor says with a nod. “We’ll handle it. Thank you for your assistance.”

As the wizard hurries out into the night, coattail flapping behind her, Traveski watches. Once the Hornet has pulled away from the curb and headed down the street, he types out a text message and quickly hits send. Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Tried to stall. Got call from someone. Headed your way.

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