The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams)

by Jones, Kirsten

  Time to go Mistral.

  Leaving the unfortunate groom to his fate, Mistral took her place between the twins with Prospero pressed closely to her side. They walked in silence, following Fabian and the Rochfortes up a wide flight of white marble steps to a pair of huge black doors, flanked on either side by more faceless warlocks.

  We’re about to enter the Council atrium. Be prepared to give up your weapons.

  Mistral felt another wave of apprehension at the thought of entering a building full of powerful Mages without any weapons other than the dagger she had concealed in her boot.

  The warlocks opened the doors and Mistral tried not to let her jaw drop. The room beyond was unlike anything she had ever seen. She would have stood and gaped but the twins swept her forward, neither seeming to bat an eyelid at the unworldly splendour of their surroundings. In essence it was simple, albeit on a huge scale. The atrium was constructed entirely from white marble; floors, walls and ceiling. A double row of slender columns stretched from either side of the double doors to the far wall of the atrium where Mistral could see a series of tall black doors, all closed. The highly polished floor reflected light from innumerable tiered candelabras hanging from the high ceiling. Every surface in the atrium shone and gleamed with a dazzling intensity that made Mistral want to shield her eyes. Dragging her attention back to ground level Mistral’s gaze instantly fell upon the scarred features of Mage Grapple. Unsmiling as ever, he stepped forward to greet Antoine. At his back a group of Council officials waited their turn to be introduced, all smiling politely, but their eyes were calculating. Mistral watched from her place between the twins at the back of the room, feeling awkward and out of place. None of the officials so much as cast a glance in their direction. Even the massive form of Prospero sat by her side didn’t attract any obvious attention, as though huge wolf-hybrids were an everyday occurrence inside the Council chambers. The twins continued with their commentary in her mind, their green eyes sliding surreptitiously over the gathered officials.

  Mage Grapple.

  You don’t say, Mistral thought sourly.

  In the group. Third from the left. Count Putreo Darke.

  Mistral felt a spark of interest and looked over at the man Fabian hated. His appearance was markedly unexceptional, almost bland. He was not particularly tall and had the unmistakable soft appearance of someone not used to physical exertion. His hair was a non-descript shade of brown, carefully swept back from a face that bore regular features vaguely similar to Antoine’s. Mistral was about to read his aura when the twins’ startled thoughts invaded her mind again.

  !!

  Mistral frowned and glanced at them, their faces were expressionless masks but their green eyes were wide and staring in the same direction. Following their gaze Mistral felt a burst of disbelief as she took in the familiar ugly features of Columbine hovering uncomfortably behind Putreo. The twins' thoughts rushed into her mind in a confusing jumble.

  What is she doing here?

  Is Columbine really working for the Council? How for crying out loud?

  She hasn’t Qualified! How can an warrior get work without Qualifying?

  Suddenly Fabian was stood before her, his pale face taut. Hardly moving his lips he spoke to them in an urgent voice, barely audible above the loud conversations going on around them.

  ‘Columbine is here.’

  Mistral and the twins gave the smallest of nods.

  ‘She is Putreo’s new bodyguard.’

  !!

  Mistral flinched. She was going to have to tell the twins to get out of her head. It was starting to get annoying.

  ‘You need to read Putreo now Mistral, before she sees you three and tells him what gifts you have.’

  Mistral immediately snapped her gaze back to Count Putreo. She was relieved that the twins seemed to be keeping their thoughts to themselves for the moment, allowing her to concentrate without interruption. She studied the air around his carefully styled hair, willing his aura to appear. A wearily familiar haze of blue shimmered gently into view and Mistral sighed. Purpose again … Darker hues began to drift into her sight; russets, blacks and lime greens that appeared then quickly vanished as Putreo’s thoughts influenced his emotions. Splashes of dirty brown appeared and faded at regular intervals as his roving eyes roved alighted on people he disliked, then an explosion of scarlet blotted out everything, swamping her vision with such blinding intensity that Mistral was forced to blink and break the illusion to find herself staring straight into the bland face of Putreo. For a split-second her heart faltered then she realised that he was not looking at her, but at Fabian.

  Red. Rage. And it had been for Fabian.

  Resisting the urge to grab the knife in her boot and fling it straight at him, Mistral drew in a deep breath and looked at Fabian. Holding his gaze she raised her eyebrows an infinitesimal amount to let him know she had successfully read his aura.

  Fabian gave the briefest of nods. His eyes lingering on hers for a moment longer then he was gone.

  Mistral watched him walk away with a burst of longing. His dark figure stood out starkly amongst the brightly robed Council officials milling pointlessly around the white marble atrium. The talk was loud and effusive. And all of it in French.

  Mistral suddenly felt beyond ignorant. She felt inept. Insignificant. A nobody hovering at the back of a room full of such rich, influential and educated people, no more than the poor guest at a dinner party.

  We are here to do a job.

  Oh that does it! Mistral inhaled sharply. Could they read her mind now as well as stick their stupid thoughts in it? Or was her sudden feeling of insecurity that obvious to them. She sighed. Probably. The twins knew her almost better than she knew herself.

  ‘Enough now. Thank you.’

  You’re welcome.

  Mistral hissed a swear word and heard the twins’ laughter in her mind abruptly cease. She drew in a breath of relief that was short lived when two warlocks appeared before them, black robed and menacing. They towered above her and pointed wordlessly to the swords strapped to her back. With a feeling of vulnerability that increased with every weapon she unstrapped, Mistral reluctantly handed over both swords then her knife belt. Suddenly anxious thought that she might not get them back again, she was at least grateful to have left her crossbow strapped to the pommel of her saddle.

  Soundlessly, the warlocks collected her weapons before moving on to Phantasm and finally Phantom. Mistral sincerely hoped that they had also heeded Fabian’s advice and managed to conceal a knife too.

  Feeling strangely underdressed Mistral stood between the twins and gazed across at the sea of Council officials. Blocking out their unctuous voices and forced laughter she focussed on their conjoined auras. All of the Council officials’ personal agendas were laid on display for her viewing in a churning mass of envy, greed and ambition. The clashing lime greens and rusty colours broiled and bubbled like a stormy ocean, swirling sickeningly round and round. Feeling nauseous with revulsion Mistral closed her eyes, clearing her vision and steadying her reeling mind. She kept her eyes closed, savouring the peace behind her eyelids and suddenly longed to be with Fabian enjoying a tankard in The Cloak and Dagger. She couldn’t for the life of her imagine why the twins hankered for a career at the Council when all it seemed to be was a haven for corrupt narcissists.

  As though responding to her silent plea Fabian appeared before her again, startling her from all dark thoughts.

  ‘We have a while until the meeting starts. A formal luncheon is being served in the banqueting hall to which the Ri have not been invited.’

  Glancing down at the clothes she had been wearing since yesterday, Mistral was not surprised.

  ‘Are you going with them?’ Mistral’s voice was hoarse from lack of use. She avoided Fabian’s eyes and tried to hide the desperation steadily building inside her.

  ‘No. I am not interested in the endless platitudes and empty flattery that will be served up along with too much win
e and over-cooked meat. I suggest we eat together in the stables.’

  The twins shared a bemused look at Fabian’s choice of destination but Mistral couldn’t have cared if he’d suggested eating in the Council tannery. She was leaving the place that made her feel like less than something on the sole of a finely heeled shoe and nothing could please her more. He took her arm and walked her briskly back through the double doors and out into the courtyard.

  ‘Fabian, I –’

  ‘Not yet,’ he muttered curtly, keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead.

  He led her around the side of the Council building into the largest, cleanest stableyard she had ever seen. Rows of immaculately groomed horses swung their heads over their stable doors to look enquiringly at them. Mistral glanced along the line of gleaming heads, looking for the familiar features of her horse and spotted him almost immediately, snapping viscously at the horse stabled next to him.

  ‘Perfect.’ Fabian headed straight towards Cirrus’ stable. Opening the door he shoved the big horse out of the way and stepped inside. Leaning his back against Cirrus’ chest to prevent him from barging out he gestured for Mistral and the twins to enter.

  ‘Er, is this really necessary?’ Phantom asked, hesitating at the doorway.

  ‘Yes.’ Fabian replied shortly. ‘No-one in their right mind would get in a stable with this horse. We will not be disturbed.’

  ‘Shouldn’t we be guarding the delegates?’ Phantasm enquired in a more reasonable tone.

  ‘Eximius has two warlocks on duty in the banqueting hall. He knows that I needed to speak with you, which I still do, so please hurry up and get in this stable.’ Fabian grunted and shoved Cirrus back while the twins hurried into the stable.

  Mistral looked around the stable in astonishment. It was easily the size of two stalls in the Valley yard. She turned in a slow circle, taking in the white-washed walls and acres of deep straw. She let out a cry of pleasure when her gaze fell upon her tack, crossbow and saddlebag stacked neatly on a bale of straw at the back. She rushed over, falling upon her saddlebag to tug out some bread and cold venison wrapped in a linen cloth.

  ‘It’s been searched,’ she said with a frown, noticing that her medical kit was undone.

  ‘Of course it has.’ Fabian replied, looking out over the half-door at the stableyard. His survey complete, he turned sharply to face her. ‘Did you manage to conceal a knife?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve got a dagger in my boot.’

  ‘Same here.’ the twins murmured in unison.

  ‘Good. Now, tell me everything that you have seen over the last couple of days.’ Fabian strode across the stable to sit next to her, his gaze fixed intently on hers.

  ‘Um, well.’ she quickly swallowed a mouthful of bread. ‘You’re right about Guillane. He’s got a violent streak a mile wide; Antoine’s aura was more positive though, lots of purpose and intent … er, there was nothing to worry about in Etienne’s or Christophe’s –’

  Fabian stiffened, ‘You are a terrible liar Mistral.’

  She dropped her gaze and fiddled with the parcel of food in her lap, ‘Well nothing you should worry about anyway.’

  ‘What happened by the lake?’

  ‘Nothing!’ Mistral replied quickly and forced herself to meet Fabian’s eyes. ‘He told me his name but Prospero growled at him and that was it. I swear he didn’t try and do anything Fabian.’

  She held his gaze, willing herself not to look away while his black stare scorched into hers. After what felt like an eternity, Fabian nodded.

  ‘I believe you.’

  The matter apparently closed, he abruptly switched to another subject entirely.

  ‘What of Putreo?’

  Mistral pulled a face, ‘Greed, envy, ambition, purpose and –’ she paused and bit her lip, betraying the anxiety she felt, ‘a lot of anger when he looked at you.’

  Fabian shrugged unconcernedly, ‘And the Council officials?’

  ‘Ambition and greed.’

  ‘Ah, the essential ingredients to Council life.’ Phantasm sighed.

  Fabian switched his gaze to Phantasm, ‘You are correct. Such emotions are perfectly normal, expected even, however the Rochforte delegation will be bringing out the worst in them. Everyone will be trying to ingratiate themselves with the cousins in the event of their petition being successful. Antoine would make a powerful ally.’

  ‘Talking of people who have powerful friends, just how did Columbine get to be working here?’ Mistral suddenly asked.

  Fabian looked at her, ‘It appears that she is working for Putreo in a bodyguarding capacity as a personal favour to his new wife.’

  Phantasm exhaled sharply, ‘She worked fast!’

  ‘That is impressive!’ Phantom agreed. ‘She could teach our mother a thing or two!’

  ‘Who are you two talking about?’ Mistral demanded irritably.

  ‘Golden of course!’ Phantom exclaimed.

  Mistral stared at him, ‘I’m sorry to sound stupid. But are you actually telling me that Golden is Putreo’s wife?’

  ‘I think she prefers to be known as Countess Darke these days.’ Fabian said quietly.

  Mistral scowled, ‘Oh joy. Columbine and Golden in my soon to be new place of work. I can’t wait.’

  ‘Please concentrate Mistral.’ Fabian snapped. ‘We don’t have much time to work this out.’

  He sprang to his feet and began to pace across the stable, his head bent in thought. Mistral and the twins watched his silent pacing for a few minutes until Mistral sighed and returned to her parcel of food. If Fabian was going to be lost in thought for a while then she might as well be full while he did it. Tearing off another piece of bread and taking some cold meat, Mistral passed the parcel over to the twins.

  They had all finished eating by the time Fabian stopped pacing and spoke again.

  ‘Columbine will undoubtedly have informed Putreo of your aura reading ability, and of the twins Gemini power.’

  ‘Without a doubt.’ Mistral agreed. ‘Gossiping witch. But please eat Fabian.’

  Fabian distractedly accepted the food Mistral held out, his eyes narrowed in thought, ‘He cannot be directly involved in any efforts to sabotage the outcome of the meeting since your joint skills would alert us to his intentions and also permit us to influence his mind. So, that begs the question, what devious plan will he have laid in place?’

  Fabian tossed the last of his bread to Prospero and resumed his pacing. He halted at the far side of the stable and turned to face them, ‘I fear this is going to be more bad than good.’

  ‘Why?’ Phantom promptly asked. ‘As you said, he knows of our gifts. Maybe he realises that he’s been outmanoeuvred and will simply accept the Council’s decision to allow the Rochfortes sanctuary on the Isle.’

  Fabian scowled, ‘Putreo capitulate? It is not in his nature to ever admit defeat. He will do anything to protect his position of privilege and having Antoine take a higher position in the Council will be more than he can abide. This will have driven him to take extreme actions in order to achieve his desired outcome ... but I cannot predict what those actions will be. How can he hide from us? We will be able to read every emotion in his twisted mind and influence his every thought!’

  Fabian frowned in frustration and ran a hand through his tousled hair before looking up, his gaze no longer angry but resolute.

  ‘We prepare for a fight.’

  Mistral smiled and the twins shared a brief look before nodding in unison.

  Fabian began pacing again, ‘We have backed him into a corner. Bloodshed of some kind is the only option left open to him now.’

  ‘Is there any chance of getting our weapons back?’ Mistral asked hopefully.

  ‘None.’ Fabian turned to meet her gaze, his eyes flat. ‘We will deal with whatever happens however we can. In light of this, I want to change our original plan. If you are all in agreement then I think we should drop the pretence of why you are really here. Thanks to Columbine, I am sure Putreo will have
happily revealed who you truly are to Antoine in the hope of gaining his trust. So, Phantom and Phantasm? I want you to sit next to each other. You will need to be together to use your gift more effectively. If it comes to a fight, try to influence the Mage sat to Eximius’ right. He is the Captain of the Guard and will control the warlocks.

  ‘Mistral?’

  Mistral met his sombre black gaze and would have laid her life down for him in a heartbeat.

  ‘Stay by my side.’

  She nodded once then abruptly frowned.

  ‘What is it?’ he asked quickly.

  ‘Prospero.’

  ‘Prosper will regretfully not be allowed in the meeting. However, that is probably a blessing. If spells are cast he would be unprotected.’

  Mistral automatically reached down to rub the solid head of her loyal dog. She had no doubt that he would die trying to protect her and felt just as fiercely the desire for that never to happen.

  Fabian drew in a deep breath, ‘Are we in agreement?’

  They all nodded.

  ‘Then I feel it is time we made our way back to the Council chambers. The meeting will be starting soon.’

  Phantom and Phantasm began making last minute checks to their armour, adjusting the straps and ensuring that their knives were concealed beneath the cuff of their boots. Mistral quickly checked her own before glancing at Fabian to see him looking at her, the expression on his face unreadable.

  ‘Why is it that whenever you are involved the situation suddenly becomes life threatening?’

  ‘You’ve finally noticed that have you?’ Phantom sighed. ‘It does get a bit tiresome.’

  ‘I disagree.’ Fabian’s voice was soft, his eyes locked on Mistral’s.

  Taking the hint, the twins left the stable quietly. Neither Fabian nor Mistral noticed them go.

  Alone for the first time in days, Fabian walked over to sit beside her. He opened his arms and she immediately slid onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and tilting her face up to gaze at him. She could live a lifetime lost in the dark shine of his eyes, longer in the sculptured planes of his face, so effortlessly perfect that angels must surely have wept when he was born. She lifted a finger to slowly trace the rough edge of his unshaven jaw until her fingertip touched the soft skin of his lips. She traced them once, then again before he abruptly kissed her.