Plenty of Time

Had she known Ish was hiding under the table, she would have gotten him out of the room before agreeing to help with the interrogation. 

Rosemary knew the moment her familiar walked towards the table in the otherwise barren torture room that the boy was there. Her hands currently gripped the head of the poor idiot who had allegedly stolen from her boss, or so she had been informed in the summons she received. He refused to talk, so she needed to extract the information from him via magic. Yet when Osiris, her gray tabby Maine Coon, left her side as she started the spell, her focus shifted to find the reason. Sure enough, her gaze met the terrified eyes of the six year old kid she had been entrusted with. Of course, he was here. Croft had called him in for “lessons” all morning. She should have questioned what he had done with the kid before entering the room.

It was clear that the boy had been witness to all that had happened before she arrived. The fear was as clear as the pale patches on his skin. Mentally, she cursed Croft, and tore her attention back to the task at hand. She continued reciting the spell, a pale blue glow emanating from her palms and eyes as she searched the wounded man's mind for answers. The spell, while harmless, was not a comfortable one. Any magic that dove into the minds of others could be felt. At least, the spells cast by witches. Only a master of such magic could successfully invade a mind and leave no trace of their presence behind. She knew how it felt to have someone sifting through memories, digging up past events that one may or may not want to remember. She had allowed her sister to practice on her as teenagers, and while no damage was done, it hadn't been a pleasant experience. 

Now, she used the spell far too often for her liking. She had no control where the magic went digging, or what it would uncover. This wasn't her area of expertise. She was not able to control the direction the magic went in its journey through a mind. Croft knew that there was a chance she wouldn't uncover what he wanted, yet he never seemed to care. Rosemary saw the memories flicker past her open eyes as if they were her own. The man’s life flashed by in still frames and short films, feeling the shadow of intentions and emotions that drove him. It showed her more of the person than she cared to know. This was mainly the reason why she hated using spells that pertained to memories. The less known, the better. She got lucky this time around, however, since the events in question were fresh in the victim's mind.

In only five minutes, Rosemary ended the spell and took a step back, away from the man who was bloody and defeated. There was no sympathy for him. If he was going to be foolish enough to try and steal from Croft, he deserved to face the consequences. Even if there was a part of him that had meant well, it didn’t excuse making his choices when he knew the cost he would have to pay. The consequences given might have been a little much, but it mattered little to her. The only thing she had a problem with was still cowering under the table. 

The woman turned to face the leader of the Forsaken. He stared back with an air of superciliousness in his faint smile. He didn't speak, but rather waited for her to give her report. The expression only infuriated her more.

"He's been supplying the Razors from your stock for the past two months," She reported shortly. "Been giving it over to a man named Benefield that must have been their representative. I haven't seen him before, but he has the gang's symbol tattooed on the side of his neck. Hard to miss. Rolland might even be familiar with the name.”

The wounded man began to protest, pulling at his bonds that held him in the lone chair of the room. He didn't get far before Croft's hand was slapping him across the face, silencing the attempts to save his life. "Your sentence has already been set," he informed the man. "There will be no further need for your testimony. Thank you, Rosemary dear. You are through."

No she wasn't. "Why the hell is Ish here?" Rosemary demanded, resisting the urge to look back at the boy. He was fine with Osiris keeping him company.

Croft glanced her way, a placating smile that didn't match the warning in his eyes. "Training opportunity," he answered. "We don’t baby anyone here. He is no exception. The sooner he learns it all, the better, and there's no time like the present."

"And the last time you had one of those training opportunities, he didn't speak for a week," Rosemary spat. "How am I supposed to give him a decent education if he's too scared by all of this–" She gestured to the beaten and bloody mess of a captive still in the chair. "–to learn anything? What then?"

"A challenge he'll have to sort out on his own," Croft replied, a cold edge creeping into his words. "If he wishes to be useful and earn his keep, I'm sure he'll figure it out. As will you. Now, you're dismissed."

"If I'm leaving, then I'm taking the boy with me."

The smile turned into a look of irritation. Had she not been a witch, he might have struck out at her. However, Rolland, his second in command, had stepped out for a moment, so the gang boss had no back up against her magic. Croft might have been a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them. Eventually, he flicked his hand sharply towards the door. "His presence is no longer needed, and yours is reaching its limit. Take him and go."

Rosemary didn't need to be told twice. She turned and walked over to the table, crouching low to find Ish all but hidden underneath Osiris's thick fur. "Both of you, up and out," she said. The cat obeyed with a shake of his head. Ish scrambled towards her. She rose to full height once more just as the boy made it out. He was shaking, gaze fixated on the floor. If she had to waste another week getting him out of whatever corner of his mind he retreated to again, she was going to make sure Croft felt the full force of her frustration. 

Placing a hand to his back, she ushered Ish towards the door. She kept her hand there even after the terrible room had been left behind them, steering him down the hall and stairs. Only when they arrived at her room did she ease up. She wouldn't call any of the rooms within the warehouse "nice," but her bedroom was spacious enough for her bed and dresser on one end, and her work space on the other. Potted plants littered the room, including a small tree kept near the bed. All species that were native to her home kingdom, and brought some connection of her past to this dreary place. The walls were lined with imagery of sigils and runes. Many served an actual purpose while others were just for decoration or reminders. 

"Go sit on the bed. I'll get tea started," Rosemary ordered, herding the child in said direction. He obeyed without a word with Osiris right behind him. After a year, she still wasn't sure if she was amused or offended that her familiar chose the boy to be with whenever he was around. He wasn’t a picky or ornery familiar, but he tended to keep new people at a distance. However, as soon as Ish became a constant in their day-to-day lives, the cat had taken up with him. The boy likewise welcomed the companionship, even if he didn’t fully understand the depth of the actions. She couldn’t be too put off by it. The boy needed more support than she did at the moment. 

Walking towards her work space, she grabbed the small tea kettle and a bottle of water. Going to the kitchen half a dozen times proved to be a nuisance quickly, so she kept a stock of clean water within easy reach. With the kettle full, she placed it over the small burner on her work desk, lighting it with a match. That done, she went to prepare the tea leaves.

"W-what did you do?" 

Rosemary paused in her work to glance over at Ish. He was once more smothered by Osiris, but he didn't seem to mind. His arms were wrapped around the cat, the fingers of one hand scratching his ears. She'd bet ten bucks the cat was purring. The deep rumbling of it was often soothing to the kid, they had discovered, and Ish had a way of getting the oversized fluff ball to do it almost on command. Well, at least he was speaking. That saved her a lot of time and effort.

"Magic," Rosemary answered, continuing sorting through her collection of loose leaf tea until she found the one she wanted.

"I didn't know you could use magic," Ish murmured, voice low as if afraid to speak. 

"You never asked," she replied. "But yes, I can. I don't use it often, but I have the ability."

"How?"

"I'm a witch. Surely you know enough about them to figure out what that means."

A heartbeat passed in silence. “D-did it hurt him?” Ish asked, voice trembling.

Rosemary shook her head. “No, it didn’t. It was uncomfortable, I’m sure, but that spell does not have harmful intent.”

“But he was trying to get away.”

“And would you not try the same if a stranger came and grabbed your head?”

Silence met that remark, and when she glanced back at the boy, Rosemary saw he had ducked his head. She sighed. Why had she been stuck with this? She was not the mothering type, yet here she was with this poor whelp somehow under her wing. Osiris seemed to be better at caring for him than she was most days. What made it worse was that the kid had glued himself to her side since day one. All because she could speak his native tongue. Playing teacher to him was one thing, but to take the place of a family he was exchanged from? At first, when lessons were done for the day, she could dismiss him and send him on his way. Before she knew it, he lingered longer and longer, bonding with her familiar, making himself a watchful statue from the corner. She wasn’t thrilled to be in charge of the kid, but she disliked knowing that Croft intended to thrust him into a line of work that many never survived more. Just like today. She never wanted this responsibility, but if she didn’t take the time to attempt some sort of proper raising, he would be stuck beneath Croft’s thumb 24/7. The outcome to that would only result in more harm than good.

There was no further conversation as the water boiled and tea was steeped in two cups. Not in her actual tea set, but just small plastic ones. She didn’t trust the kid well enough to handle the delicate china. With the drinks prepared, Rosemary brought them to the bed, taking a seat beside him and offering one of the cups. “Here, drink this.”

Ish reached out with trembling hands, taking the cup and just holding it. Osiris took a sniff of the steam rising, but he knew better than to try and steal a sip. He had been cheeky once in his younger years, trying to steal her tea and discovered that the liquid was far too hot for his liking. 

Rosemary studied the boy for a moment, taking a sip of her own drink. Then, “What is it?”

The shaking renewed, and Ish’s eyes seemed to grow distant. “H-he hit him so many times…” he murmured. “The b-blood… He was so loud…”

If she wasn’t sure about placing a curse on Croft, Rosemary was tempted more and more each time this kid had to endure the boss’s idea of “training.” She didn’t have to have a motherly nature to know children should not be exposed to the things Croft did in order to run his business. 

“That’s how it’s going to be, I’m afraid,” Rosemary told him. No sense in trying to lie. This was the fate Ish had to look forward to. It was a horrible one, and she wished there was a way to avoid it. However, she didn’t have any connections to ensure a safe disappearance for the boy. For now, it was better to help him work through it and guide him where she could. “Pain, blood, and screams. A constant for those of us under Croft’s employ. But that doesn’t mean you have to take it lying down.”

Ish flinched at the words and looked to sink deeper into the cat’s fur. Now that she was near him, she heard the resurgence in her familiar’s furious purring as he stretched to spread across the boy more. Tears began to well in his eyes.

A twinge of remorse twisted her chest. As reluctant of a caretaker as she was, she couldn’t deny that she hated this more for him than for herself. He was only six. Six, for crying out loud! The gods were cruel to allow such a young life to be ruined in such a way. He was too young to be worrying about the troubles of moral dilemmas and having his life dangled by a thread of a tyrant’s wavering graces. Whatever she was going to add to her lecture died on her tongue. 

Rosemary sighed. “You’re still young. You still have time before the worst of it happens. Until then, would you like to help me with sorting the herbs I bought?”

That brought his attention back to her and caused him to perk up. Over the past year, Ish had come to be her assistant of sorts, helping with a lot of her tasks around her room. All small preparations for her work that didn’t involve magic, but he proved himself to be a bigger help than she would have guessed. Especially when it came to the herbs and plants she had. She wouldn’t have pinned the kid to be interested in such things, yet here he was, staring at her with rapture. “How many did you get?” he asked. 

“I had to get more of everything. My stock was running low, so you’ll have your work cut out for you if you’re able to do it.”

“I can do it!” Ish exclaimed, his face breaking out into a grin. He was missing his left incisor, leaving a gap in his smile that was almost comical. “Remember the ones I did last time? I even tied the string like you showed me!”

“Yes, I remember. Drink your tea first, and we can get started,” Rosemary instructed. 

Ish nodded eagerly and, after blowing into his cup to cool off the tea, began to drink. There were still signs that the horrors of the interrogation lingered, but with something he enjoyed doing offered, he was able to stay in the present instead of retreating inside himself.

Rosemary sipped her own drink, suppressing another sigh. He still had a few years before the full weight of his fate would crash onto him. Until then, she would make sure what childhood he had left would be decent. Plenty of time to teach him skills that he could use to attempt to shape his life by his own hands. Plenty of time to build the guides he would use to keep his mind sane.

She watched as he chugged the tea as best as he could, accidentally spilling some onto Osiris; as he apologized and made an exaggerated attempt to clean his fur with his shirt; as he giggled as the cat playfully swatted his cheek before slinking off his lap and curling around him from behind.

Plenty of time, Rosemary thought, a small smile tugging at the edge of her lips.