Cassandra spent hours with Jenkins, alternating between quietly weeping and worn-out silence, her head resting on his chest, listening as his heartbeat slowly strengthened and quickened within him. When she finally lifted her head, her temples throbbed with pain and fatigue. She held one of her husband's large hands in hers, careful not to hold onto him too tightly for fear of hurting his already badly damaged fingers. She could see them beginning to swell and change color already as his body's temperature continued to rise, the skin of his hands going from white to a deep red color. Blisters were also beginning to form, on his fingers and on the other frostbitten areas. Though she knew she shouldn't be touching him, she couldn't restrain herself. Who knew when she would see him again? She reached out and lightly touched his cool face.
"You saved me, sweetheart—I owe you my life," she murmured, smiling weakly, hoping that he could somehow hear her despite his comatose state. "And I did what you told me to; I came to the Library as soon as I could. I fulfilled my duty, at least that part of it, anyway." Tears welled and spilled over her thin cheeks. She moved her hand up to gently comb his stiff, tangled hair with her fingers as best she could into his usual hairstyle.
"Judson says I can't stay," she whispered, her throat closing around the large lump caught there. "He says that I have to go back to our own time, that it's too dangerous for me to stay here any longer. But I don't want to leave you, not again!" She leaned forward to rest her forehead against his side again and wept, utterly miserable at the prospect of being separated from her beloved a second time. She lifted her head and sighed as she looked down at Jenkins, his face blurred by her tears.
"But, I guess that's part of a Librarian's duty, too, huh?" she asked the silent immortal. She smiled a tiny bit. "I wish you could see me right now! You'd be so proud of me and all of the dutiful Librarianing I've been doing lately!"
A choked half-laugh escaped Cassandra as the image of the disapproving glower he always gave her whenever she used the word "Librarianing" came instantly to mind. She reached out again to lightly brush his damaged cheek with the backs of her fingers, her smooth face quickly twisting into a mask of grief as a sob escaped her.
"I don't want to leave you, Galahad!" she whimpered again, her head falling back onto his chest. "I love you so much! I don't us to be separated again! Not now, we just found each other again! This is all my fault, and I'm so sorry, sweetheart! Please—please get well soon so you can come find me again! Please! I don't want to live the rest of my life without you! I can't!" She stretched her arms around him to hold onto him as best she could, and wept quietly.
"Cassandra." Charlene's quiet voice came to the grieving young Librarian from the entrance to the lab. "I'm sorry, dear, but the machine is ready. It's time for you to go, I'm afraid."
Cassandra, her heart full of sorrow to the breaking point, only tightened her hold on Jenkins as her sobs intensified.
Cassandra climbed up onto the fabulously gaudy contraption carefully, mindful of her healing but still sore ankle. Judson held her hand to help her up and into the chair.
"You don't have to do anything," he assured her while she settled into the chair. "All…all of the controls have been set. All you have to do is…is to sit still and let the machine do all the work."
"And remember, Cassandra: As soon as the machine comes to a rest, get off of it—fast! As soon as you leave the machine, it will automatically return here," instructed Charlene, hovering behind Judson anxiously. "Everything should work perfectly, but just in case, it's best not to dally!" Cassandra nodded in acknowledgement of the Guardian's warning. Judson reached into his pocket and pulled out the glyph-covered box that contained the Heart of Sorrow.
"Take this," he said, putting it into her hand without waiting for a reply. He wrapped her fingers around the box and pressed them tightly for a moment. He looked into her nervous blue eyes, then patted her clenched hand encouragingly.
"Don't worry, Cassandra, everything is going to be just fine. Just…just make sure that this is locked into the most secure location inside of your Library the moment you step off of the time machine! No delays! And another thing: Always be on time for an appointment!" The young woman, puzzled by the odd comment, gave him a faint smile.
"I will, Mr. Judson," she promised. "Thank you for everything, and thank you, too, Charlene. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't been here for me!" The young woman paused and looked at the two immortals, a hesitant expression on her face. "And…please send Jenkins home soon. And tell him that I love him! Tell that I wished I could've been here when he woke up, but I…I…" She dropped her head quickly, blinking furiously against the fresh tears that threatened to overtake her again. Judson smiled warmly.
"I will," he promised in return, then cast a glance at Charlene. "We will." He let go of her hand and made one final check of the time machine's instrument panel. When he was finished, he looked up at Cassandra.
"Ready?" he asked. Cassandra took a deep breath.
"Ready!"
Judson pressed a pair of buttons and then threw a lever. As the machine glowed and whirred slowly to life, he stepped back quickly from the machine so as not to be caught up in its field of activity.
"Good luck, Cassandra!" called Charlene, waving at the clearly terrified woman.
Cassandra couldn't hear her, though, over the increasing hum of the time machine as it powered up. Her skin tingled and began to itch, and she could feel the hair on the back of her neck and on her arms rise. She gripped the edge of her chair tightly with her one free hand, the other one gripping the magical box so tightly that its edges bit deeply into her palm. The goldish, crackling haze that now surrounded her became brighter and denser until it completely blinded her and blocked out all view of the Library of 1912. She felt dizzy and nauseous; she feared that she was going to vomit as she and the time machine seemed to become incorporeal in preparation for the rush through the wormhole through Time—and hopefully back to the same Library of 2019 that she had left.
She clenched her jaw and squeezed her eyes shut in hopes of easing the feeling of dizziness. As the air snapped and thrummed around her, she felt a burning sensation in the hand that painfully clutched the box containing the Heart of Sorrow, and a soft, melodious, terrifying voice suddenly sounded inside of her skull.
Cassandraaaaaaa!