The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams)

by Jones, Kirsten

  Mistral followed the twins across the room and took her seat, gazing listlessly at the array of strange items laid out on the table in front of them.

  ‘Tell me what you see before you,’ Malachi began without preamble.

  ‘A small turnip ... some parsley. That looks like asparagus and … is that a bulb of garlic?’ Phantasm frowned and picked up the whitish coloured root.

  ‘Exactly the response I was expecting,’ murmured Malachi icily. ‘And precisely why so many people unwittingly poison themselves.

  ‘That,’ he said sweeping suddenly towards the table and lifting the bulb of garlic between one finger and thumb. ‘Is a narcissus bulb and quite deadly when prepared in the correct manner. The “small turnip”,’ he continued in a condescending tone, ‘is actually root of aconite, the “parsley” is cleverly disguised I agree but it’s true identity is far more harmful, it is of course, lesser hemlock. And finally, the “asparagus” is really white hellebore.

  ‘Tell me apprentice, did you think you were here to learn how to cook?’ Malachi fixed Phantasm with a disdainful look.

  Phantasm met Malachi’s cold gaze and kept his face expressionless, ‘No Master Nox.’

  Malachi Nox regarded him silently for a long moment then abruptly dropped the narcissus bulb onto the table.

  ‘You will spend the afternoon researching poisons that cleverly adapt innocuous disguises. The reference manuals you will require are located on this shelf,’ he gestured lazily towards one of the towering shelves. ‘There will be no need to talk to one another.’ Malachi finished in a cold voice and strode over to take a seat in a high-backed armchair, picking up the large book resting on the arm and opening it.

  The twins shared a brief look and slid from their stools, as Phantom brushed past her Mistral felt a slight pressure on her arm and knew that they were about to try and create a diversion long enough for her to read Malachi’s aura. She jumped off her stool and hurried over to the bookshelf Malachi had pointed at. Grabbing the first book that came to hand she quickly took her seat again while the twins began to idly peruse the long row of leatherbound manuals.

  ‘Master Nox?’ Phantom enquired in a polite tone. ‘Would you consider “Natures Weapons” to be more instructive to us today rather than “Theriac Production: The Definitive Guide”?’

  Malachi glanced over with barely disguised irritation, ‘Do you even know what Theriac is?’

  ‘No, but it sounds fascinating,’ replied Phantom with absolute sincerity. ‘If it’s not too much trouble Master Nox, do you think you would be able to tell me more about it?’

  Giving a sibilant sigh Malachi laid the open book across the arm of his chair once more and stood up. Moving over to where the twins were standing he took the heavy manual from Phantom’s hands and opened it at the beginning.

  ‘This book is far too advanced for you,’ he snapped, ‘but if you are truly interested in learning how to brew an antidote that cures all known poisons and has a basic ingredient list of over seventy items then I suggest that you begin with Chapter Two.’

  Malachi began to flick through the pages. His back was to Mistral, providing her with the perfect opportunity. Slowing her breathing and concentrating on the air around Malachi’s head until she was rewarded by the appearance of a slight shimmer of pale colour. Malachi’s aura glimmered briefly in an indefinable halo then the vision abruptly vanished. Mistral frowned and tried again. Clearing her mind she re-focussed and once again Malachi’s aura swam into view in an indistinct swirl only to disappear almost immediately.

  ‘Now, if your curiosity is quite satisfied, perhaps you would like to continue with the task I have set you.’

  Malachi’s curt voice snapped Mistral from her trance. She immediately bent her head over the book she had selected, gazing unseeingly at the words on the page while her mind whirred frantically. Why hadn’t she been able to read Malachi’s aura? With a sudden wave of panic she wondered if she was losing her gift. She turned quickly to look at Phantom. Forcing herself to become calm she called up the vision of his aura. It swam obediently into view in a swirl of metallic grey shot through with bright bolts of silver: curiosity and excitement, the very essence of Phantom’s nature. Mistral blinked and the illusion vanished, leaving her feeling relieved but perplexed. With no opportunity to whisper her findings to the twins Mistral had no choice but to try and concentrate on the work they had been set.

  The afternoon wore by with mind-numbing slowness. Mistral could feel Phantom’s impatience growing with every hour that dragged by until he was fidgeting restlessly and looking pointedly at the door every few minutes. When Malachi finally released them with a terse dismissal Phantom took hold of her arm and almost dragged her from the tower room.

  ‘Finally,’ he muttered when Malachi closed the door behind them with a soft snap. They ran quickly down the stairs and straight along the corridor to the twins’ room in silence, only speaking again when they were safely inside with the door firmly closed.

  Mistral sat on the edge of Phantom’s bed while they settled themselves on the bed opposite her, leaning back against the wall and gazing at her with identical expressions of anticipation that never failed to make her smile.

  ‘Tell all sister,’ breathed Phantom, his eyes shining with excitement.

  Mistral clasped her hands together in her lap and frowned at them, ‘I wish I had something to tell you brother. But I haven’t. I couldn’t read his aura.’

  The twins stared at her wordlessly; Phantom’s face dropping with disappointment and Phantasm’s instantly creasing into a concerned expression.

  ‘You don’t think the strain of taking a second year has made you lose your gift do you?’ he asked anxiously.

  Mistral shook her head, ‘No, I read Phantom’s aura straight away to check.’

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t,’ snapped Phantom looking annoyed. ‘I might have been thinking about something personal!’

  ‘Oh Phantom, how many times do I have to say this?’ Mistral exclaimed exasperatedly. ‘I can only see your emotions, not hear your thoughts –yet.’

  ‘But still –’ Phantom persisted in a miffed tone.

  ‘If it makes you feel better I can tell you what I saw,’ Mistral offered with a smile.

  ‘No thanks,’ snapped Phantom huffily.

  ‘Can we please consider the important issue here?’ Phantasm demanded.

  ‘Yes, my privacy!’

  ‘No Phantom, the real issue is why couldn’t Mistral read Master Nox’s aura? Has this ever happened before, apart from when you were going slightly demented last winter that is.’

  Mistral scowled at him. She didn’t care to be reminded of how she’d felt during Fabian’s long absence. Losing her ability to read auras had been the least distressing part of that particular period of her life as far as she was concerned.

  ‘No,’ she replied shortly.

  ‘He’s half-Mage isn’t he?’ Phantom said, still looking slightly sulky.

  ‘Yes, but we all know that the Craft doesn’t pass down to half-breeds, so he can’t be using that to deflect Mistral’s sight … I wonder if it’s something to do with him having vampire blood –’

  ‘Don’t know … don’t care.’ Mistral suddenly leapt to her feet and headed for the door. Training had finished for the day and Fabian would be waiting for her.

  A Tame Mage

  Snow continued to fall heavily for the rest of the night but had ceased by breakfast on Saturday morning, leaving a glistening white blanket across the Valley. Mistral walked into the Refectory with Fabian and gazed pensively out of the long narrow windows at the low bank of grey cloud veiling the mountainside from view.

  ‘Do you think we’ll be able to ride home today?’ she asked him in a worried voice.

  Fabian glanced up at the sky and frowned, ‘I don’t think it will snow any more today and the Valley is a misleading guide to use anyway; it always seems to catch the worst of any snowfalls. I’m sure the snow won’t be as deep o
ut in the meadow and there’ll definitely be less snow laying on the trail through the forests. It may take us a little longer, but I’m certain we will be able to ride home today.’

  ‘Thank goodness for that,’ Mistral sighed. ‘I can’t wait to get out of here for a couple of days!’

  Fabian instantly tensed but said nothing and Mistral kept her gaze firmly fixed on the snowy scene outside the window. Her staying over at the small mountain house was a continual matter of contention between them with Fabian insisting on sleeping on the sofa and making her sleep alone in his bed upstairs. Despite his best efforts to keep her away from him he usually failed as Mistral would wait until he was asleep then creep down and curl up with him on the sofa.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking,’ she murmured.

  ‘I wish you did then it wouldn’t be such a problem,’ he muttered back.

  Mistral shot him a covetous look from under her eyelashes, ‘We don’t have to wait you know.’

  Fabian clenched his jaw and continued to glare out of the window rather than look at her, ‘We made a deal Mistral. Establish Sight and then we can begin our lives together.’

  ‘But –’ she began only to be interrupted by one of the first years calling out across the Refectory.

  ‘Mage De Winter? Are we upstairs today?’

  Fabian and Mistral spun around to face the speaker, a stocky apprentice with the distinctive squashed features of someone with goblin blood. Fabian’s face was impassive but Mistral glared daggers at the apprentice. Why did everyone think it was perfectly acceptable to interrupt their private conversations?

  ‘That is correct Ezra.’ Fabian replied in a clam voice. ‘There is too much snow in the Arena to train. It will be swords in the third floor Training Room this morning.’

  ‘I’m training with you this morning.’ Mistral commented as they turned back to face the window.

  ‘I know,’ said Fabian with a slight smile. ‘We had better get you some breakfast then. You’ll need some energy for what I’ve got planned today.’

  Mistral’s face lit up, ‘Oh good, something interesting for once! I’ve had the most boring week of my life! Well, maybe not. Nevelte could be unbelievably dull when the snows came, but I usually passed the time … er, one way or another,’ she finished quickly.

  She had been about to say that she had filled her snowbound days in the tiny sorcering village by picking fights with the other village teenagers but decided that might be one story about her past that probably didn’t present her in the best light.

  Fabian raised an eyebrow, letting her know that he had noticed her slip-up and would be questioning her on it later. She pulled a face in response and marched over to the counter where Bernadette had placed a large tureen.

  ‘Good morning dearie!’ Bernadette called cheerily from the steamy depths of the kitchen. ‘It’s porridge this morning,’ she confirmed, catching Mistral’s suspicious glance under the lid of the tureen.

  ‘Great, thanks Bernadette,’

  ‘But I’ve got a lovely liver and turnip casserole coming up in a bit!’

  ‘Oh, right,’ said Mistral, stifling a grin as the twins sidled up to her, both wearing identical expressions of disgust at the menu.

  Mistral quickly filled four bowls, passing two to the twins and one to Fabian who promptly took hers as well and carried them both over to a table. Mistral couldn’t help but smile as she watched him place the bowls on the table and pull out a bench for her to sit next to him. Assassin he may be, but his manners were impeccable.

  Phantom immediately began to talk excitedly about their morning the moment they all sat down.

  ‘Master Casterton will be taking us through the Treaty of the Isle today,’ he began effusively, a fanatical gleam lighting his eye. ‘It’s going to be fascinating, I can’t wait!’

  ‘Sounds riveting.’ Mistral muttered, privately thinking that Phantom had very strange concepts about what constituted an interesting way to spend a Saturday morning.

  ‘You really ought to pay more interest in the history of the Isle you know Mistral.’ Phantom wagged his porridge-laden spoon at her. ‘When you master your gift you’ll be sent to work in the Council and it might be useful to have some idea of how it actually functions before you get there!’

  Mistral scowled, ‘The Council? Oh joy. I can’t wait for that.’

  Fabian said nothing and bent his head over his bowl of porridge; this was subject it was best not to get Mistral involved in just before an armed training session.

  ‘You should be grateful!’ Phantom snapped, ignoring his brother’s warning look. ‘It’ll be highly paid and a lot safer than crawling through the undergrowth with a dagger between your teeth like those poor first years!’

  ‘At least that wouldn’t bore me to death!’ shoving her untouched bowl of porridge away Mistral leapt to her feet and stormed from the Refectory.

  Phantom watched her go with a furious look on his face, ‘Just what is up with her these days? Anyone would think she actually wants to risk her life for a living!’

  Phantasm sighed, ‘She does brother.’

  Fabian quietly rose from the table murmuring an apology to the twins as he left.

  ‘I wish him luck with trying to calm her down!’ Phantom muttered darkly and reached for Mistral’s untouched bowl of porridge.

  ‘It’s more likely to be a case of damage limitation,’ said Phantasm watching the first year apprentices looking at each other apprehensively. ‘Mage De Winter won’t have any first years with limbs still attached by the end of the morning if Mistral goes into that Training Room in her present state of mind.’

  Phantom snorted, narrowly avoiding spraying his brother with porridge. He finished his mouthful and sighed, ‘Oh, I know I’m being a bit hard on her at the moment. But she’s got such a rare gift and doesn’t even seem to care! It’s just so frustrating watching her desperately trying to throw it all away just to be with her Mage. I mean, just imagine what we could do with that gift as well as our own. The possibilities are endless!’

  ‘I think you have to give her some leeway brother. It’s hard for her not to resent her gift when it stands between her and Mage De Winter. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard that must be for Mistral. She’s not exactly blessed with limitless patience is she?’

  ‘No,’ agreed Phantom, looking slightly repentant. ‘Fine, I’ll try to be more understanding.’

  Fabian caught up with Mistral as she stalked along the third floor corridor towards the Training Room. Reaching out to grab her arm he spun her around to face him, meeting her blazing glare with his own cool black gaze.

  He offered her a half-smile, ‘I think you’ve frightened all the first years.’

  Mistral glared furiously back but couldn’t help beginning to melt. She never seemed to be able to stay angry with Fabian for long.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she finally muttered, dropping her gaze from his to stare dejectedly at her boots. ‘I know that I promised to behave respectfully around you when you became a Training Lieutenant.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about them.’ Fabian dismissed her apology with a shrug. ‘A little fear is healthy. And you were being disrespectful to a fellow warrior, not your Training Lieutenant.’

  Mistral snorted disdainfully, ‘Phantom barely warrants that title! He’s become so lazy! All he wants to do is sit in front of Mycroft Casterton’s fire and listen to him waffle on endlessly about Council gossip and other incredibly pointless stuff all day long –’

  Fabian listened calmly while Mistral ranted on about Phantom until she had listed all of his failings twice and was about to begin all over again when he abruptly bent his head and kissed her.

  ‘Oh,’ said Mistral breathlessly when he eventually released her.

  ‘Where are we going this afternoon?’ he asked her gently.

  ‘Er, home?’

  He smiled, ‘Exactly. And what else matters?’

  ‘Nothing,’ she sighed then her eyes narrowed with a
devious look. ‘Except maybe pasting that annoying half-goblin for interrupting our conversation this morning! What was him name?’

  ‘Ezra.’ Fabian pushed open the door to the Training Room to allow her to enter before him.

  ‘Ezra … right. I’m so going to hammer him!’

  Fabian gave her a stern look, ‘I don’t think you are.’

  ‘Oh come on! Just a bit … please?’ she added hopefully.

  Fabian shook his head and drew his sword, turning swiftly to face her, ‘Leave Ezra alone Mistral. However, we have a few minutes before they all arrive … care to practise with me?’

  ‘Yes please!’ Mistral grinned and promptly drew her double swords.

  Laughing recklessly they began to drill, the ringing of clashing swords drowning out the surprised gasps of the first years when they arrived.

  By midday the first year apprentices were dripping with sweat. Fabian had ordered them to relentlessly drill attack and defence, repeatedly switching their sword to their opposite hand to encourage them to be able to fight with both.

  ‘What would happen if you injured your sword arm?’ he asked when they complained. ‘Do you think your opponent would simply agree to reschedule your fight for a future date?’

  While Fabian dismissed the first years at the end of the session Mistral examined her swords carefully for any nicks before sheaving them and waiting for him to finish. He took his time, speaking to each apprentice in turn, briefly discussing their performance during training and offering guidance on how to improve. Mistral watched him, his beautiful face set in a serious expression while he listened to each apprentice’s response. Gazing at him she felt a burst of yearning so powerful that she was surprised he didn’t feel her desperate need from across the room and turn to look at her.

  Mistral clenched her fists and fought back the tears that threatened to fall until the last apprentice had left the room. When Fabian finally turned to look at her he met her stricken gaze and immediately crossed the room to take her in his arms.