Chapter 2

New York City

"I see no sudden move in your near future... unless it is one of your own choice." Cassandra smiled sagely at her customer.

"Oh my... no move unless I choose. Whatever does that mean?" The elderly well-dressed woman clutched her purse compulsively to her chest and clucked her tongue while shaking her head.

"Only that your path is yours to decide. Now... that is all I see this day. Our time is up." Cassandra waved one hand imperiously at her client and nodded at her as if to conclude the session.

"Oh... my... yes... just look at the time. Thank you Miss Cassandra... I do so love your readings." The elderly woman rose, bowed slightly and allowed herself to be led out into the empty waiting room.

At the desk outside Melanie Pryor was taking a message on the phone and raised one hand to get her boss's attention as Cassandra was showing the last client of the day out of the door. Once the door was shut, Cassandra blew her hair out of her face and shook her head.

Melanie placed one hand over the receiver of the phone, "Cass... there's a Nathan Barlow on the line... He says he knows you and wants to meet with you."

Cassandra glided across the carpet, one hand outstretched for the phone. Melanie handed it to her with a shrug.

"Nathan... how nice to hear from you. It's been... ages." Cassandra's voice purred as she spoke.

"Right... can't talk," came the reply. "I have some information for you. Where shall we meet?"

Cassandra turned her back on her receptionist and leaned her tall, slender frame against the desk. "Drinks and dinner... how delightful. Why not pick me up here... I look forward to seeing both you and your lovely wife once more. Do you need directions?"

In the phone, the male voice answered briefly, "Twenty minutes." Then he hung up.

"Fine... fine... I'll be waiting." Cassandra turned back and handed the phone to Melanie. "An old friend... a dinner invitation."

"I gather he's married, though?" Melanie switched off the computer and pulled her purse out of the lower desk drawer.

"Hmmm... very." Cassandra smiled at the young woman and then spread her hands in apology. "Oh Melanie... I forgot we were going for drinks... Rain-check?"

"Sure," Melanie replied as she pulled on a light jacket and headed for the door. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

Once she was gone, the expression on Cassandra's face sobered from the mask she had worn as over-worked psychic to the upper class. She glanced in the mirror and tossed her wild mane of brown hair and checked her appearance. The ethnic jewelry over the unadorned jersey knit dress of dull red made her look slightly exotic... and approachable... but also slightly mysterious. She smiled, "Perfect!"

Cassandra checked to see that the outer door was unlocked, then, leaving the door to her inner sanctum open, re-entered it. She pulled her lightweight broadsword out from its hiding place in the covered bench and placed it within easy grasp... just in case. She settled herself once more at the small round table and pulled out the Tarot cards. She shuffled them slowly... then began to lay them out in an age-old pattern. Her long fingernails absently clicked on the tablecloth as she awaited Barlow's arrival.

True to his word... Nathan Barlow arrived exactly twenty minutes later. The man was nothing if not punctual. He opened the outer door and stood for a moment just inside the waiting room. Then closed the door... throwing the bolt. There would be no interruptions! Drawing his own sword he slowly crossed to Cassandra's inner office. He paused in the doorway to allow his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light within.

Heavy dark brown velvet drapes covered the windows and walls of the room. There was little furniture in the room... only a few hard wooden chairs that were placed against the walls. In the center, sat Cassandra behind a round table covered completely by the same material. A recessed ceiling light splayed a dim light above her... creating long shadows on her face.

Barlow chuckled, "Still setting the scene and choosing the path of the mysterious... ehh Cassandra." The thin, hawk-faced man with the high widow's peak of gray-brown hair bowed slightly to the older immortal.

She smiled at him in welcome and motioned to the chair on the opposite side of the table near where he stood. Barlow shook his head but sheathed his sword and took the offered seat.

Cassandra leaned back in the chair and rested her chin on one hand as she set one elbow on the arm of her chair. "You've found something?"

Barlow nodded, "I spent the last three years going through those old records in London... I referenced and cross-referenced everything. The crystal you described was once in the Tower of London as you suspected... but has been missing since the latter half of the fifteenth century."

"Go on..." Cassandra gestured with her other hand.

"I checked court records... nobility records... who's who lists of court retainers... everything I could think of. The only one of us I found for certain in all that time was a Hugh Fitzcairn."

"Fitzcairn is dead now."

"Right... a few years ago in Paris?"

Cassandra nodded. "You could have written or phoned me this information. If Fitzcairn had the crystal he likely sold it. He was far too young to have realized what it was."

"Right... but in the records I did run across another name I thought you might be interested in. He was a visitor to the court about the same time as the crystal apparently vanished."

Cassandra leaned forward, "And the name?"

"Gerald Phillips, Earl of Madison."

Cassandra's eyes widened in surprise. "The Swordmaster..."

Barlow smiled as he nodded. "Now he's not been heard of in several centuries. But... he might still be around."

Cassandra nodded, "Yes... he is still around. I know him by another name. Was he alone? What makes you think he had any dealings with Fitzcairn."

"I don't... at least I found nothing in the records to suggest they even knew one another. But you did say you wanted to know who might have taken the stone and he's certainly old enough to have realized what it was." Barlow shifted in the uncomfortable chair. "As to his being alone... one record speaks of his being the brother of Lady Ellen Gray."

Cassandra thought of the mousy little student she had once seen with the Swordmaster... He had called her "Little Sister". She had been such a little thing... and so very young. "Was there a Lord Gray?" When Barlow nodded, Cassandra continued, "Explore the peerage and land records of this Lord Gray and his family. I've not heard of him... but perhaps a clue as to what happened to that crystal might be found in those files.

Barlow nodded and rose. He paused at the door. "I suppose the same conditions for payment exist?"

Cassandra nodded and watched the man leave. Thoughtfully she gathered the cards together and shuffled them once more. Then she slowly laid them out... smiling at the clues they seemed to offer her about her next step.

The crystal of the Ancient still existed. Cassandra was certain of it. For a while she had thought it lost... or perhaps in the hands of Rebecca Horne. But the one Rebecca had owned was slightly different... and it was in pieces... many of them now lost.

Besides... Rebecca's crystal offered only the hope of immortality. That Cassandra already had. The crystal she had once seen in the hands of an Ancient... the crystal she had once held and within which she had once seen the faces behind the masks of the Horsemen... that crystal was still in one piece. That crystal... she desired to find once more.

If it had shown her once that the horsemen lived and that she would one day find them... what would it show her now that vision had come true. She had found the horsemen... she had seen three of the four die through the intervention of young Duncan MacLeod. But he had turned on her at the last moment... and begged her to spare the life of the fourth. That had galled her!

She had left him then... determined never to see him ever again... until events changed. The fourth would live... she would not pursue him. But how long was a promise good for? Methos would turn on MacLeod one day... the Highlander would see the ancient one's true face... he could not have truly changed. When that happened... Cassandra wished to be there... to see the final payment for that ancient betrayal. She hoped the crystal would show her that moment... allow her to find the time and place to watch Methos die... not at her hands... but at the hands of the Highlander.

"The great crystal of seeing... you will be mine... none truly know its value or how to use it... save me." Cassandra stacked the Tarot cards on the table and rose, gathering her sword. She turned out the light and pulled the door closed. Pulling on her lightweight long coat, she placed the sword within it and left the locked office for another day.

Tonight... once she was home... she would email the Swordmaster. Perhaps, finally, he would do more than answer her. Perhaps, finally, he would tell her where to find him... let her meet with him. Even he was not immune to the power of her voice if she chose to use it on him. Perhaps he might tell her what she wished to know about the crystal. But... first things first... she had to get him to meet with her. One could not use the voice on email.

Cassandra reached the street and glanced up and down for a taxi. Seeing one... she stepped forward and raised her hand to wave it down. The taxi swerved out of traffic and over to the curb. The immortal psychic opened the door and entered, giving the driver a Park Avenue address. She settled back into the seat her plans for the evening made.