The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams)

by Jones, Kirsten

‘The things in life that you truly desire are not easily attained.’

  ‘You mean Sight don’t you.’ Mistral sighed heavily and lifted her head from his shoulder.

  ‘Yes and no. I mean you and your Mage. You must believe in the strength of his devotion to you. Don’t doubt him Mistral. Don’t let Golden win.’

  ‘I don’t! I haven’t!’

  ‘So why the animosity towards the nymphs if not because they remind you of her? Why the fear in your face that you thought he had flirted with our mother to get her to allow food in the White Room?’

  Mistral’s face worked frantically, trying to find words to justify her jealousies and fears. But she couldn’t. Damn it. She had to say the words she hated.

  ‘You’re right.’

  ‘I usually am.’ Phantasm replied in a smug tone.

  ‘But you don’t understand!’ she continued wildly. ‘Golden! She and Fabian … they –’

  ‘We know what Golden made you see, but it wasn’t real Mistral. Stop letting her live inside your head. You must focus on what really matters. The future! Accept your gift and live the life that destiny has dealt you.’

  She nodded silently and withdrew her arm from his, lifting her shoulders and raising her chin to walk with determination back towards the tent.

  ‘I think,’ she declared after a long moment of silence, ‘that when we get back to the Valley I’m going to find out where Fabian is from the Divinus and go and meet him.’

  ‘Er, I don’t think you are.’ Phantasm said quickly.

  ‘Well I do!’

  ‘Why is it always like this with you?’ Phantom demanded in exasperation. ‘Up or down! All or nothing?’

  Mistral gave him a challenging look, ‘Would you have it any other way?’

  ‘No.’ he smiled his angel’s smile. ‘I just like to complain about it every now and again.’

  After a brief stop to collect Prospero and changes of clothing they continued on to the pool designated for females to bathe in. The twins took some persuading to allow Mistral to swim on her own but, as she pointed out, even Columbine wouldn’t be stupid enough to return to the same place she had attacked Mistral before. Despite her apparent confidence, Mistral swam with her dagger clenched between her teeth and avoided the waterfall. Prospero picked up on her tension and circled her repeatedly, his rudder like tail catching her in long wet swipes around the face.

  They returned to the tent together a short while later and made hasty preparations for travel before the others returned. While they packed Mistral and Phantom held a heated debate in hissed whispers over his refusal to return her old clothing.

  ‘But it’s comfortable!’ she argued.

  ‘It looks it too.’ Phantom muttered disdainfully.

  Mistral changed tactics, ‘It’s more practical for travel than these.’ she gestured to her tight trousers.

  He eyed her for a moment then sighed, ‘Oh, I suppose you can have them to travel back in. But not until we leave, or it’ll give away what we’re planning.’

  ‘I don’t understand what all the secrecy is for.’ Mistral grumbled. ‘I don’t really care if they know we’re going!’

  Phantom gave her a reproving look, ‘Do you want to hurt Saul even more and ruin the festival for the rest?’

  Mistral gave him a blank look, ‘Sorry, but I really don’t see how me leaving is going to hurt Saul, and why should the others give a damn if I’m here or not? Cain will be pleased as punch! He’ll get my place in final event by default.’

  Phantom placed his neatly packed saddlebag against the back wall of the tent before turning to look at her, ‘Saul will blame himself for you leaving and the others probably will too.’

  ‘Well he has, sort of. I’d probably have wanted to leave before the festival had finished anyway, but I couldn’t stay now even if I wanted to. It’s just so –’

  ‘Awkward?’ Phantom suggested.

  Mistral sighed, ‘That’s one way of putting it.’

  ‘Of course it’s awkward Mistral. Unrequited love is rarely anything but awkward.’ Phantasm interjected, adding with a thoughtful frown. ‘I must admit, he’s being incredibly persistent.’

  ‘And brave.’ Phantom added.

  ‘Oh!’ Mistral suddenly exclaimed. ‘Cain!’

  The twins looked at her, chorusing impatiently, ‘Yes?’

  ‘He had a flask of that manticore liquor. We had some before the race – I bet he gave some to the others too.’

  Phantasm scowled, ‘He has a lot to answer for with his wretched brewing antics! No wonder poor Saul found the nerve to proposition the wife of Mage De Winter!’

  Mistral nodded but kept quiet. Cain’s wretched brewing antics had saved Fabian’s life not that long ago.

  ‘So, let’s go over the plan again.’ Phantom prompted in an obvious attempt to change the subject.

  ‘Yes Phantom, let’s.’ Mistral rolled her eyes. ‘It’ll only be for what, the third time?’

  ‘Perfect planning – ’

  ‘Yes! Yes! Go on then!’

  ‘We help with dinner, eat, chat, ply the others with wine, don’t drink much ourselves ... I’ll have the waterskin on hand so it’s not obvious that we aren’t drinking –’

  ‘We could raid Cain’s saddlebag for something to help them sleep.’ Mistral suggested.

  ‘No, I don’t think so. We might get it wrong. Cain’s not famous for labelling his inventions is he?’

  ‘No.’ Mistral admitted. ‘He usually goes by bottle colour.’

  ‘And how did that work out on the cyclops hunt?’

  ‘Not well.’

  ‘Shh! Here they come! Remember to be cheerful!’

  Mistral shot him a black look and turned to face her brothers, plastering a wide smile on her face.

  ‘Don’t overdo it!’ Phantom hissed.

  Xerxes and Brutus came staggered back along the path first, both looking decidedly sorry for themselves. Saul and Cain were just behind them. Cain had a distinctly guilty look on his face and Mistral was willing to bet that he realised what had given Saul the courage to make a fool of himself.

  ‘Let me treat you.’ Mistral offered brightly and reached for her medical kit while Brutus and Xerxes walked over stiffly. ‘Tell me how you did.’

  ‘Oh, you know.’ Xerxes winced and lowered himself carefully into a sitting position. ‘Not bad.’ he reached for a wineskin and took a long drink before submitting to Mistral dabbing ointment on his various cuts.

  ‘Grendel?’ Mistral offered by way of explanation.

  Xerxes took another drink and nodded sourly.

  ‘Well, on the bright side, the Ri now have two winners in the last event.’ Brutus held his arm out for Mistral to clean a long wound running the length of his forearm.

  ‘How did you get that?’ she exclaimed. ‘It was an unarmed event!’

  ‘Tell that to the dirty, cheating elf that had a knife stuck up his sleeve!’

  ‘Brutus! That’s no way to talk about your kinsmen.’ Mistral chided while she looked more closely at the wound. ‘I think it’ll need stitching.’

  ‘Whatever.’ Brutus responded wearily. ‘Pass me a wineskin someone.’

  ‘So where’s our champion now?’ Phantasm asked casually while he passed a wineskin to Brutus.

  ‘Probably in the nymph tent again.’ Xerxes muttered moodily.

  ‘No, he’s not! Look, he’s coming down the path now –’

  They all looked up to see Grendel lumbering wearily towards them. The huge warrior looked exhausted.

  ‘Congratulations Grendel!’ Mistral called cheerfully.

  Grendel grunted and collapsed heavily onto the floor beside Brutus.

  ‘So how come you’re not celebrating with the nymphs?’ Xerxes asked jealously.

  ‘Tired.’

  ‘Huh, run out of money more like.’

  Grendel yawned and closed his eyes, ‘Didn’t charge me.’

  Xerxes stared at Grendel while he began to snore loudly, ‘Didn’t
charge him? I don’t believe it! They wouldn’t even give me a kiss last night unless I paid them a gold coin apiece!’

  ‘You’ve either got it or you haven’t brother.’ Mistral smiled and concentrated on finishing off Brutus’ stitches.

  Xerxes made a disgusted noise and abruptly stood up, ‘Going for a wash.’

  ‘Watch out for Columbine!’ Mistral called after him. ‘Mind you, I don’t think she charges!’

  They all laughed, watching Xerxes stagger away bad-temperedly giving rude gestures over his shoulder.

  ‘You’re in a good mood.’ Brutus said quietly while Mistral packed away her kit.

  ‘Shouldn’t I be?’ she shrugged lightly and avoided his gaze, focussing her attention on rolling up the canvas pouch and tying it securely.

  ‘We know what happened.’

  ‘Just a misunderstanding. It’s all cleared up now.’

  ‘So. Does that mean your Mage won’t kill Saul for daring to suggest you should leave him then?’

  Mistral hesitated before lifting her eyes to meet Brutus’ anxious gaze, ‘I won’t volunteer the details brother, but if you’re asking me to lie then I can’t... but I will tell him that Saul was not … himself … you know, over-confident.’

  He regarded her for a moment, his gaze serious, ‘You think Saul only had the courage to tell you how he feels because he had some of Cain’s manticore potion?’

  ‘Of course I do! Why else would he do something so stupid?’

  ‘Because he loves you.’

  Mistral stared at him, ‘Are you saying that he didn’t have any potion this morning?’

  ‘Whether he did or not, he’s been planning to talk to you for a while now.’

  Mistral glanced over at where Saul was sitting with his back to her while Cain tended to his injuries.

  ‘Is he insane?’ she whispered incredulously.

  ‘I think that love is a form of madness, yes.’

  Mistral drew in a deep breath and looked at Brutus, ‘What would you do if you were me?’

  ‘Honestly?’ Brutus smiled. ‘Wear a dress more often.’

  Mistral gave a short laugh, ‘You know what I mean brother.’

  Brutus shrugged, ‘You’re probably handling it better than any of us would. Having said that, Xerxes did have a wager on you not being here when we got back.’

  Mistral shifted uncomfortably and avoided his gaze.

  Brutus sighed heavily, ‘I knew it. You’re going aren’t you?’

  ‘Um, yes.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Tonight –’

  ‘Alone?’ he asked, frowning sharply.

  ‘No.’

  Brutus’ face abruptly clouded with anger, ‘Of course! The twins probably knew what was going to happen before Saul even opened his big fat mouth!’

  ‘Please don’t be angry with Saul.’ Mistral implored him quietly. ‘It’s not really his fault I’m going. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stick around for the whole festival in the first place.’

  Brutus began to stand up, ‘Well you’re not going alone. We’ll all go with you.’

  Mistral quickly pulled him back down, ‘No you won’t!’ she hissed, shooting a wary glance over at where Saul and Cain were still sitting, apparently oblivious to their whispered conversation.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I’ve heard you talk Brutus! I know this festival means a lot to you and Xerxes, and I’m not going to be the one to ruin it!’

  ‘No. Saul’s done that.’

  ‘No he hasn’t. He’s said his piece and I’ve said mine and it’s done with. Admittedly, it’s a bit uncomfortable –’

  Brutus raised his eyebrows, ‘Just a bit!’

  ‘But it’ll smooth over. Drag him to that damned nymph tent and he’ll soon forget about me! And think of the look on Cain’s face when he realises that he’s in the winners’ event by default because I’m not here.’

  ‘He will be slightly pleased with himself, the jumped up hob.’ Brutus agreed then frowned. ‘But are you sure you’ll be safe enough with just the twins?’

  ‘Course I will. I’ve already decided to use them as bait if we get into any trouble.’

  Brutus laughed, ‘They always were more ornamental than useful.’

  Mistral looked over to where the twins were preparing dinner, her smile more affectionate than mocking. She turned back to Brutus, the smile still lingering.

  ‘You’re all my brothers, you know that don’t you?’

  ‘Easy now sister or I’ll start crying.’

  ‘What’s that Brutus? Did she do the stitches too tight?’ Cain called. ‘You should’ve asked the Qualified professional, not the apprentice!’

  Mistral turned and stuck her tongue out at Cain, who laughed then winced, clutching a hand to his ribs, ‘Damn! That hurt!’

  ‘Ha! You’re so going to have to ask really nicely if you want me to check you over now!’ Mistral grinned.

  By the time Xerxes had returned from his wash night had begun to fall and the cool air was full of the rich smell of the rabbits the twins were roasting over the blazing fire. Xerxes was full of gossip about the various squabbles he had witnessed during his walk and keen to share.

  ‘You remember Magnus don’t you brother?’ Xerxes reached for the wineskin and helped himself to a long draught. ‘Well he’s here … along with Silas and Phoenix!’

  ‘No!’ Brutus exclaimed, looking suitably scandalised. ‘Didn’t they hate each other and swear blood oaths to kill the other on sight?’

  ‘That’s right! Xerxes said, nodding enthusiastically, ‘Well it turns out that –’

  While Xerxes went on to describe a long family feud that would have bored even Mycroft Casterton to death Mistral quickly turned to the twins and muttered under her breath.

  ‘Brutus knows we’re going.’

  Phantasm nodded, not taking his eyes from the rabbit he was slowly turning over the flames.

  ‘And?’

  ‘No objections.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Fancy a game of knuckle bones?’ Phantom asked loudly and soon everyone was involved in a long game with Brutus, Xerxes and Cain being overly cheerful to cover up for the fact that Saul had barely spoken a word all evening.

  ‘Dinner is served.’ Phantasm announced grandly, pulling a roasted rabbit from the fire with a dramatic flourish.

  ‘Should we wake him up for something to eat?’ Mistral asked dubiously, eying the snoring mountain of Grendel.

  ‘No, leave him.’ Cain said quickly. ‘He’ll need his strength for later. I bumped into the nymphs earlier, they’re looking for him.’

  Xerxes choked on his rabbit, ‘I knew it! He hasn’t paid his bill and they’re after his blood!’

  ‘No brother, that’s not what they were saying … in fact, I really don’t want to repeat what they were saying while we’re eating, it’s a bit stomach turning to be honest.’

  Xerxes stared at him, ‘I don’t believe you,’ he finally muttered and took an angry bite of rabbit.

  Mistral hid a smile. Xerxes’ famous pride had taken a serious knock but she was sure it would recover once he was reunited himself with his army of village sweethearts back in the Valley.

  The Valley.

  Mistral’s fists clenched impatiently at the thought of going back. She stole a quick glance at her brothers. They looked tired. She wondered if suggesting an early night would be too obvious. Probably, she decided with a sigh and resigned herself to waiting it out.

  The evening passed with agonising slowness. Every second felt like an hour while she forced herself to laugh and joke her way through endless games of knucklebones.

  ‘Ah, I think it’s time to call it a day.’

  ‘Oh come on Xerxes, one more game!’ Cain demanded. ‘I need to win back some of that money!’

  ‘No, sorry brother.’ Xerxes yawned widely. ‘Sleep beckons.’

  ‘I’ll go check the horses before we turn in.’ Mistral hurried over to the enclosu
re, taking the opportunity to check that Cirrus, Jupiter and Mars were sound enough to be ridden.

  The twins’ horses were in perfect condition having not been raced that day but Cirrus still looked weary and there was a little heat in one of his legs. Mistral frowned and ran her hands over his leg again, feeling the tell-tale softness of a bruise.

  ‘Damn it!’

  Mistral sat back on her heels and felt the crushing weight of disappointment fall on her. She was so desperate to leave that the thought of staying another night was unbearable. She racked her brains, thinking of a way around her lame horse. She could take another ...

  She quickly discarded that idea. Leaving Cirrus was out of the question. Maybe if they just walked, she could even start on foot … at least then she would actually be starting her journey back to the Valley. Back to Fabian. Her decision made, Mistral stood up, feeling relief and purpose flood through her, washing away the chafing anxiety. They would be gone within the hour. She would hear Fabian’s thoughts again in just a couple of short days.

  She walked quickly back to the tent to find the twins sat alone around the camp fire with Prospero sitting next to them, gazing alertly at her.

  ‘Are the horses ready?’ Phantasm asked quietly.

  She pulled a face, ‘Cirrus is off, but if we travel lightly he should recover quickly enough.’

  Phantasm nodded and retrieved their three saddlebags from the deep shadows at the side of the tent. Hoisting them onto his shoulder he slipped quietly away towards the horse enclosure.

  ‘Here.’ Phantom quickly passed over her swords. Mistral took them with murmured thanks and strapped them on, trying not to make any noise.

  ‘You don’t have to do this you know,’ she whispered while she watched him buckle his own sword belt on. ‘You could stay. I’d be fine.’

  He frowned at her, his green eyes bleached grey by the moonlight, ‘Maybe you would, and maybe you wouldn’t. But let’s not take that chance shall we? This is you we’re talking about after all.’

  ‘Yes it is.’ Mistral agreed and patted her leg, signalling for Prospero to follow.

  The lush grass muffled the thud of hooves as they led their horses from the enclosure. Mounting swiftly Mistral urged her tired horse into a trot along the avenue, the twins fresher horses jogged energetically on either side. Light and noise spilled from the open mouths of every tent they passed, each providing a torchlit scene of celebration or downright debauchery. Mistral kept her eyes fixed straight ahead, oblivious to the mayhem going on around her. Half-dressed nymphs ran giggling from tent to tent, chased by leering, drunken elves and scurrying goblins. Prospero growled warningly when a troupe of gnomes suddenly emerged from beneath the side of a tent, all wearing shifty expressions and blatantly up to no good.