‘Yes, I See. Your intentions are pure,’ the Divinus finally murmured with a satisfied sigh. ‘I will travel.’
Fabian let out the breath he had been holding and wrenched the tower room door open, running down the stairs and along the corridor to the next flight, oblivious to everything except the need to find Mistral. He was quickly at the stableyard without noticing the journey or the audience that awaited his arrival.
‘Mage De Winter!’ Xerxes called loudly.
Fabian strode silently past Mistral’s brothers, all mounted and waiting at the stableyard entrance.
‘We wish to ride with you.’ Xerxes persisted.
Fabian glared at them, the reason Mistral had ridden from the Valley enraged and utterly unprotected.
‘No.’
He lead Spirit from her stall, already tacked and ready for travel. Without looking at the others he whistled for Prospero and swung himself into the saddle.
‘Mage De Winter.’
Cain’s voice dragged Fabian’s gaze to meet his.
‘Please let us ride with you. We didn’t understand –’
‘Perhaps you didn’t need to understand! Was being your sister not enough? I neither need nor want your help and Mistral has no need of you for brothers!’
‘We’ve let her down. She’s our sister. Let us make it right.’
Fabian glared at Cain then turned to Saul, snapping coldly, ‘I need to see the tracks.’
Saul nodded and Fabian immediately kicked Spirit into a gallop, clattering out of the stableyard and across the village square. After a moment’s hesitation Saul urged his horse after him.
‘What do we do now?’ Xerxes demanded in exasperation.
‘You ride with us warrior. The Divinus has need of protection.’
They turned to see their Training Captain striding into the stableyard with the ghostly figure of the Divinus drifting silently beside him.
‘Yes Captain.’ Xerxes replied quickly and dismounted to assist Leo in preparing a horse for the Divinus.
They rode swiftly out of the Valley, galloping towards The Velvet Forests where Saul had found the tracks of three horses riding in from the north. The fragile looking Divinus rode astride a solid cob, controlling the animal with barely a touch on the reins, his sightless eyes gazing straight ahead of him.
They quickly caught up with Fabian and Saul at the edge of the forests. Saul had dismounted and was pointing out the tracks he had found.
‘Here.’ Saul muttered. ‘Two sets of hoof prints join a third and then a fourth is led, not ridden – you can see they bear no weight –’
‘She was abducted less than an hour from the Valley.’ Leo hissed. ‘How did this happen!’
‘Because we let it.’ Fabian said harshly. ‘Every single one of us. You and I, we were too concerned with our own pride to even notice when she left. And her brothers are far from blameless.’
Saul frowned at the tracks on the ground, ‘The trail leads north.’
Prospero was sniffing one set interestedly. He whined and sat down, fixing Fabian with his pale stare. Fabian regarded the dog for a moment then nodded.
‘Then we follow them. Find her Prospero.’
Prospero bayed loudly and plunged into the forests, heading north.
They rode hard, galloping wherever they could through the dense trees, all the time listening to the Divinus’ high, sighing voice reciting the thoughts and emotions in Mistral’s mind. Fabian’s face became a burning mask as the thoughts the Divinus Saw became increasingly more agonised.
‘Golden is a bitch!’ Cain muttered under his breath to Xerxes.
‘I agree, and one I am glad I never had the pleasure of!’
They both glanced at Leo.
‘What was he thinking?’ Cain said, shaking his head in disbelief.
‘I don’t think he was using his mind brother.’
They rode for long periods in complete silence, pushing their horses relentlessly through the night. Continually heading north without any real conviction other than Prospero’s sense of smell that it was the right direction until the Divinus suddenly stiffened. His blind eyes widened while he listened to something only he could hear.
‘The Rochforte cousin … he is bored … he is tired of waiting and is restless … he has begun to explore his surroundings.’
‘What does he see?’ Fabian demanded urgently.
‘A portrait … faded to almost nothing, but Etienne is intrigued … he is staring at the eyes … they are black and he is amused by the likeness … it is your father Mage … he sees you in your father’s portrait –’
Fabian drew in a sharp breath, ‘They are in my house at the Council!’
‘Less than a day from here if we ride hard!’ Leo shouted and urged his horse into a flat-out gallop.
‘I just hope we’re not too late.’ Phantom said to his brother.
‘Mistral is strong.’ Phantasm replied confidently, but his expression was tense. They had all listened in silent horror to the emotions Mistral had been forced to endure by Golden’s merciless torture.
The High Moors lay before them in an undulating sweep of brown and green, veiled by a damp early morning mist that hung in the air, soaking their hair and cloaks as they galloped. The horses were nearly spent and the ground heavy, but the warriors gave fierce encouragement with heels and hands, urging them on.
‘If she breaks … what then?’ Xerxes muttered to Phantasm.
‘The Rochfortes will move on the Council using Mistral as a talisman, a symbol of their power. The Council are weak without Mage Grapple. They’ll capitulate easily in face of a full-blooded Rochforte aided by a Seer. A rush election will be held and the warlock army will switch allegiance before Mage Grapple sets foot back on his Isle.’
‘And the Ri?’
‘A shameful collection of half-breeds to be cleansed from the face of the Isle by the new regime.’
Xerxes scowled, ‘Not good.’
‘No.’ Phantasm agreed shortly.
‘I just hope Mistral finds the mettle to keep it together.’
‘I think lesser people would have broken by now.’
Golden had gone again on one of her unexplained long absences leaving Mistral alone in darkness. She curled up on the cold stone floor, too exhausted to sleep and too dehydrated to cry. Her mind felt raw, her body weak, wracked by being forced to reveal every hidden doubt, jealous thought and darkest fear by the endless images of Fabian dying, dead … betraying her.
The door opened again and Mistral barely flinched when Fabian strode into the cellar, this time wearing an expression of desperate anxiety.
‘Ah, hello again Fabian. But which one are you?’ Mistral asked with a weary smile. ‘Are you the one that dies horribly before my eyes or the one that tells me he doesn’t love me? Oh, are you that one who wants Golden and insists on showing me how much –’
‘No, I am the one that is taking you out of here,’ he said flatly, striding across the cellar to slash the ropes from her wrists and ankles before gathering her into his arms.
‘This is a new one. Very clever. Lull me into a false sense of hope.’ Mistral murmured. ‘I’ll give you this Golden, you’re getting better. This one actually has Fabian’s scent –’
He swept her up a flight of dark stairs and through a series of rooms. Peeling wallpaper and torn furnishings passed by Mistral in a blur as Fabian carried her through the house he had grown up in. Suddenly there was fresh air and Mistral inhaled deeply, the cool night air smelling so good after the musty airless cellar.
‘Is this this how it works? Give me something nice and make me grateful?’ she murmured against Fabian’s neck. ‘You know what, I quiet like this one. He’s warmer than the others and doesn’t smell of ozone. It’s just a shame I know he’s been with you.’
‘Who are you talking to Mistral?’ Fabian asked in a troubled voice.
‘Golden of course. She’s telling you what to do and say isn’t she? I know … I know you’
re not really here, but it’s getting harder to tell now. Oh Fabian! I think they might be getting to me!’ Mistral was suddenly hysterical, struggling wildly against his grip with tears pouring down her face.
Fabian held her firmly and looked down into her eyes, ‘It is me. You’re safe now.’
‘No!’
He reassured her over and over but she continued to stare fearfully at him, shaking her head frantically and crying. Fabian’s reassurances grew increasingly desperate at her continued distress, forcing him to finally beg in a voice hoarse with emotion.
‘What can I do to convince you?’
Mistral stared at him with wide-eyes, the vaguest glimmer of hope in them more painful for him to see than the despair of before.
‘Tell me ... tell me the one thing I know you will never say to me.’
He frowned at her then his face cleared and he smiled so beautifully that she knew it was him, even before he opened his mouth and spoke the words she knew he would never say.
‘I have given up on you gaining Sight.’
She stared at him, tears trickling slowly down her cheeks, ‘Fabian?’
Wordlessly, he bent his head and kissed her.
Mistral was dimly aware of being carried along an avenue of tall houses and of turning into the entrance of one of them. She fell asleep in Fabian’s arms while he carried her up the steps and through the front door. Waking briefly with a burst panic at the sound of murmured conversations going on around her, Mistral instinctively tightened her grip on him while she stared around in confusion at her strange surroundings.
‘Don’t leave me!’
‘I won’t, I swear.’ Fabian reassured her softly. ‘I’ll be right here.’
Mistral closed her eyes slowly, letting sleep drag her exhausted mind back down into oblivion.
‘She’s not going to let go of you is she?’ Phantom said quietly.
Fabian didn’t reply but lowered himself slowly down onto a velvet sofa and settled Mistral across his lap.
‘How long do you think she’ll sleep?’ Phantasm asked, frowning at her sleeping form. ‘We could do with some information.’
‘Physical injuries heal quickly Sheldon, others take time. You know that from being bullied at that awful Council School! Now come away and let the poor girl sleep!’
‘Yes mother.’ the twins intoned and obediently left the room.
‘Now, what can I have prepared for you Mage De Winter?’
‘Thank you, nothing. I will eat with Mistral when she awakes.’
Taking this as her cue to leave, Melsina De’ath nodded and ghosted silently from the room after her sons.
Mistral woke with bright sunlight shining into her face. She groaned and opened her eyes a fraction, blinking at the intensity of the light.
‘Ow!’ she mumbled, dragging her hands from around Fabian to rub her eyes. ‘Why is it so bright? Has Serenity put another damned window in this room or something?’
‘You’re not in the Infirmary, for once, Mistral. This is the De’ath household.’
‘Oh, I get it, I’m dreaming.’ Mistral murmured sleepily and slumped back against him with her eyes tightly closed. ‘But that’s at the Council. Why would I dream about something so boring?’
Fabian kissed the top of her head, ‘You are not dreaming Mistral. We are at the Council.’
‘Oh?’ Mistral murmured, sounding unconvinced. ‘And what are we doing there?’
Fabian sighed, ‘Tell me what you remember,’ he entreated her quietly.
Mistral groaned, ‘I hate it when you ask me that! It always means something bad has happened to me –’
There was a moment’s silence while the events of the previous day crawled into Mistral’s sleepy mind. Suddenly she tucked her legs up and curled into a ball, tight against him.
‘Oh! Oh! So that wasn’t a nightmare? All those images of you ... all the things they did –’
‘Weren’t real.’ Fabian stated quietly, wrapping his arms protectively around her.
Mistral stayed tightly curled in his arms, ‘I know. And I knew it then. But even though I kept telling myself that I just couldn’t help reacting, feeling the pain each time I saw you die –’
‘Hush. Let it go. It was never real, it was just a spell. This, here and now. This is real.’ he tilted her chin and kissed her.
A polite cough made them break apart and the cool voice of Phantasm drifted across the room.
‘We thought we heard voices. We’ve been instructed to find out if you’re both awake and ready for breakfast.’
Mistral opened her eyes cautiously. Bright sunlight was pouring in from two long windows directly in front of her. She blinked and lifted a hand to shield against the glare, gazing around in frank amazement at her surroundings. The entire room was white. The curtains, the thick carpet, the silk wallpaper, even the velvet sofa she and Fabian were lying on were precisely the same shade of brilliant white, except that the sofa now had more than a few black smudges on it where Mistral’s boots had grazed the velvet.
‘Damn it,’ she muttered, quickly shifting her boots off the sofa.
‘Don’t worry. It’ll give mother an excuse to have another made.’ Phantasm said drily.
‘Mother?’ Mistral repeated with a confused look.
‘Yes Mistral. Melsina De’ath is our mother. This is the house we grew up in.’
‘Oh!’ Mistral looked around with fresh curiosity at the plush white room. It was beautiful, but terribly unpractical. She raised an eyebrow at a row of regimentally arranged bone china figures on the mantelpiece and could instantly see where the twins learned their obsessively tidy behaviour from.
‘She’s made breakfast.’ Phantom began then stopped and gave a short laugh. ‘But what am I saying? Allow me to amend that. Mother has ordered breakfast to be prepared for you. It’s being served in the main dining room.’
‘Main dining room? Er, no offense, but I’m not really dressed for anything that formal sounding!’ Mistral said quickly.
‘Wesley? Sheldon?’
The twins flinched at the sound of their mother’s voice.
‘Wesley! Sheldon ! Don’t you dare ignore me when I’m calling you!’
‘I feel like I’m six years old again.’ Phantom muttered through clenched teeth.
‘Let me deal with this.’ Fabian rose to his feet and strode through to the next room.
The twins watched him leave with identical expressions of trepidation.
‘Brave man.’
Phantasm glided over to Mistral and reclined elegantly on the sofa beside her, ‘How are you feeling?’
His angel’s face was composed into a sincere mask of concern but Mistral wasn’t buying it, ‘Oh come off it Sheldon! You don’t give a stuff how I’m feeling! You just want to know what happened.’
Phantasm gave her a pained look, ‘First of all, not so much of the Sheldon, and secondly, I care about you. Is that so hard to get into that thick lump of stone on top of your neck?’
‘Whatever.’ Mistral muttered and gazed broodingly around the perfect room. ‘I’d rather forget all about the last however long I was in that hell-hole … which was where by the way?’
‘That hell-hole was the cellar of the De Winter family home.’ Phantasm replied crisply. ‘And we last saw you five days ago, but you weren’t in there that long. It would have taken them at least a couple of days to get you there, and you’ve been asleep here since yesterday … so I calculate that you may have spent one or maybe two days in the pleasure of Golden’s company.’
‘Don’t mention that bitch to me! Damn it! What’s keeping Fabian?’ Mistral leapt up and began to pace agitatedly, leaving more dirty prints on the white carpet.
‘I’m here.’ Fabian strode back into the room bearing a tray laden with food. ‘Your mother is a most generous hostess.’ he commented to the twins and set the tray down on the sofa.
The twins shared a look of disbelief.
‘How did you charm our mother int
o allowing you to bring food into this room?’
Mistral threw Fabian a sharp look. The emotions that had ravaged her were still too close to the surface. Charm? A hundred images filled her mind, each lit by the harsh glare of jealous fear.
Fabian met her look and smiled with sad understanding, ‘I simply explained to her that Mistral has been through enough ordeals for the moment and that we would be leaving straight away. Melsina was utterly horrified that I would leave her house without having received the appropriate hospitality, hence the compromise.’
‘A tray.’ Phantom stated flatly. ‘I didn’t realise she knew how to lay one.’
‘Your cook did it.’
Fabian sat down and immediately pulled Mistral down next to him. Protective, possessive, reassuring. Whatever his reasons, she was glad of the result and leaned against him, letting his closeness soothe her raw emotions.
‘However,’ Fabian continued, glancing apologetically at her, ‘Melsina was insistent that she assist you in cleaning up before we leave.’
‘Oh! Right.’ Mistral rubbed quickly at the smudges of dirt on the white velvet sofa. ‘I guess I owe her a clean sofa. D’you think I should scrub it?’
‘No Mistral. Mother wants to clean you up, not the sofa.’ Phantom said heavily.
‘What?’ Mistral sank against Fabian’s side. ‘Haven’t I just had enough torture?’
‘Apparently not.’
‘What is it with your family and wanting to dress me like some hideous life-sized doll? Can’t we please just go home?’ she begged, switching her imploring gaze to Fabian.
He smiled and touched her cheek gently, ‘We will leave for home today, I promise. But first you must eat then gracefully accept Melsina’s hospitality and finally we must attend a brief meeting with Eximius.’
‘He’s back?’
‘Yes, that’s why Golden and Putreo were forced to leave so abruptly and, thankfully, without you. They fled before we reached the city – unfortunately.’ Fabian added in a darker tone.
Mistral frowned, ‘They fled? But if you weren’t in the city to tell him, how did Mage Grapple know where Putreo was?’
The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams) Page 29