The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams)

by Jones, Kirsten

  ‘Fabian, please don’t worry, I’ll be fine.’ Mistral muttered quickly, noticing that Brutus and the twins had started listening in.

  Fabian turned to her, his eyes still angry, ‘No Mistral. I would prefer you to respect my wishes and refrain from entering this event.’

  Mistral blinked, momentarily shocked by the curtness of his tone. Xerxes grinned and quickly bent his head over the parchment and the twins winced in anticipation of Mistral’s inevitable explosion. Another second passed then Mistral’s eyes blazed, Samson’s jibe about her promising to obey echoed mockingly in her mind. Opening her mouth to deliver a seething retort, she suddenly caught Samson’s amused look and paused. Fabian had turned down the Contract Samson had offered him and Phantasm had forgone his rightful place in the winners’ event, both to protect her. She sighed, it was time to give a little back.

  ‘Fine. If you really don’t want me to enter the event, then I won’t.’

  Xerxes glanced up from the event specifications to give the twins an astonished look, ‘Have I missed something? Or did she just agree to do something without making a huge fuss and nearly killing someone?’

  Phantom raised his eyebrows in astonishment but his brother was looking thoughtfully at Fabian.

  ‘May I suggest a compromise?’

  Fabian turned to him with an expression of polite enquiry, but Mistral could tell he was only humouring her brother and had already made his decision.

  ‘Mistral attends the hunting event with you positioned on the outskirts of The Emerald Forests, close to where we enter, just in case Columbine appears –’

  Fabian cut Phantasm off with an impatient gesture, ‘I fail to see how I will know if Columbine has appeared from the outside of the forest!’

  ‘My brother and I will let you know.’

  Fabian narrowed his eyes and regarded him in silence while Phantasm went on to outline his proposal.

  ‘You won’t violate the restrictions Chieftain Wolfsnare has set in place by waiting on the treeline. If Columbine does make an appearance my brother and I can use our gift to inform you, enabling you to ride straight to where we are.’

  ‘That’s actually quite clever.’ Samson said in a surprised voice.

  ‘He’s not just a pretty face.’ Mistral grinned, trying not to look too hopeful.

  ‘Mage De Winter won’t have been directly involved in the actual event. If he enters The Emerald Forests it will be to protect Mistral from a danger that is totally unrelated to the hunt and Chieftain Wolfsnare will have no cause to be offended.’ Phantasm concluded.

  ‘So long as the other Arcanes see it that way and don’t decide to shoot an arrow first then ask questions later.’ Cain added grimly.

  Mistral looked at Fabian in alarm, ‘Maybe it’s not such a good plan after all!’

  ‘Actually, it’s the only plan.’ Brutus interrupted in a loud voice. ‘The rules,’ he continued, stabbing a finger at the parchment held in his brother’s hand, ‘clearly state that all contestants must enter two or more events to be eligible for their place in the final.’

  ‘What?’ Samson frowned and leaned over. ‘I’ve never heard of that before –’

  Xerxes squinted down at the parchment, ‘Neither have I, but he’s right. Look, it says here that a new rule has put in place to avoid unfair advantages.’ Xerxes’ eyes moved quickly over the writing. ‘Something about preventing tribes from helping their champion win at their favoured event then resting them ready for the final.’

  Mistral chewed a fingernail anxiously, ‘But I’ve only competed in the horse race so far. So, you’re saying that I actually have to go today or I’ll lose my place in the winner’s event?’

  ‘Looks that way.’ Xerxes muttered and continued to study the rules.

  ‘Then it is the perfect solution.’ Fabian snapped coldly. ‘You can bow out of this event and forgo your place in the winner’s event, which is usually unnecessarily dangerous.’

  Mistral stared at him, her face crestfallen. Miss out on the hunt, which suddenly included the tantalising possibility of settling her score with Columbine … and forgo the final?

  Xerxes cleared his throat loudly, ‘Not quite so simple I’m afraid, Mage De Winter.’

  ‘Oh?’ Fabian raised an eyebrow, the eye beneath dangerously cold.

  ‘No.’ Xerxes met his black look unflinchingly. ‘This festival is all about tribes. We are tribe, that’s what I was taught as a child. Together we are strong, alone we are weak.’ Xerxes rolled his eyes. ‘Utter rubbish if you ask me, but Bryden’s all about the tribe and this is his festival so we must obey his rules, which state quite clearly that if Mistral forgoes her place in the final, so do her tribe. Namely, the Ri.’

  ‘A perfectly acceptable disappointment.’ Fabian snapped.

  ‘Maybe to you. Mage!’ Brutus leapt to his feet and began pacing back and forth agitatedly. ‘But to the Arcane this festival is a celebration of our identity. We compete with pride and sometimes our lives just for the honour of a place in the final. My brother and I grew up dreaming of being chosen to represent our tribe at the festival but we were never chosen because we are half-breeds!’ Brutus spat the word and paused in his pacing to fix Fabian with a belligerent look. ‘You don’t have the right to take this chance away from us!’

  Fabian sprang up and leaned threateningly towards Brutus, his eyes shining with a dangerous light, ‘Pride is a foolish and wasteful emotion! It is certainly not worth dying for!’

  ‘And love? Isn’t that a foolish and wasteful emotion too?’ Brutus argued, glaring furiously back. ‘You seem quite keen to die for that cause! Taking a poisoned arrow at Holdridge for a start –’

  Mistral glanced up at Fabian’s face and flinched when she saw that it was devoid of any emotion. To someone who didn’t know him he looked rigidly controlled, but she didn’t need to read his aura to tell that he was on the verge of losing his temper, which usually resulted in someone losing their life.

  She looked at the twins. Quickly catching Phantom’s attention she widened her eyes in a silent plea.

  Mistral watched Brutus anxiously while he continued to argue with Fabian, rising slowly to her feet to stand quietly beside Fabian, ready to leap forwards and hold them apart if it came to it. She was suddenly aware of the tense stares of the others warriors gathered around the campfire. Most of them obviously knew Fabian well enough to recognise that Brutus was heading for trouble.

  ‘– not to mention being a Mage and being foolhardy enough to enter the Vale during The Festival of the Arcane –’

  Brutus suddenly stopped talking and a hazy look drifted across his face.

  ‘Damn! I completely forgot!’ he exclaimed, clapping a hand to his forehead. ‘Back soon!’

  The other warriors shared confused looks and watched Brutus running along the avenue of tents but Fabian turned to Phantasm.

  ‘Courtesy of you two I presume?’

  Phantasm shrugged, ‘We thought it might be prudent to remind Brutus to double-check our entries with the sylvads at the registration tent.’

  ‘What?’ Xerxes exploded, leaping to his feet and glaring furiously at the twins. ‘You used your gift on my brother?’

  ‘Come on Xerxes, surely you could see where that conversation was going to end!’ Mistral snapped and moved closer to Fabian, her posture defensive.

  ‘He was saying what needed to be said Mistral!’ Xerxes shouted and turned to glare at Fabian. ‘This is our festival! Mage rule doesn’t apply here! And unless you’ve forgotten, Mistral may be your wife, Mage De Winter, but she’s also an Arcane! She rode damned well in that race and deserves her place in the final, as does Grendel! And I for one am not going to be the one to tell him he’s not competing because you wouldn’t let Mistral hunt some damned harpies!’

  A heavy silence fell while Fabian glared back at Xerxes, his fingers curled ready to grab the dagger in his belt. Mistral quickly laid a restraining hand on his arm, murmuring softly into his ear while she pulled him
away from the camp fire.

  ‘Fabian. Please listen to me. I won’t be reckless, I promise to stay with my brothers. I won’t even hunt, just go for the ride ... and you will be there, near enough to reach me in a few short minutes if Columbine does dare to make an appearance. Please … please don’t make me ruin the festival for them.’

  Her eyes roved over his face; the familiar uncompromising set of his jaw, the fierce light in his eyes, all making her smile with affection. Impulsively, she reached up to kiss his rigid lips until he relented and returned her embrace. The sound of the twin’ voices resuming a conversation about rules eventually made him sigh and push her gently away.

  ‘I am sorry Mistral but I still cannot allow you to go. To watch you ride into that forest knowing Columbine is in there and be completely unable to protect you, it would be –’ he paused and shook his head. ‘I simply cannot do it.’

  ‘Yes you can.’ Mistral insisted quietly. ‘I watched you ride away from me to take a Contract on Putreo.’ she watched his eyes darken with stubbornness again and reached up to touch his jaw, stroking the ridged muscles. ‘Do this one last thing for me Fabian, and then I promise, I promise to fulfil my wedding vows and obey you.’

  Mistral held his gaze imploringly, watching his eyes gradually softened to the velvet she adored. Fabian shook his head and abruptly laughed, his face losing all of its tension, reminding her of the first time she had ever seen him laugh on the ride to the River Amber, when she had fallen utterly in love with him.

  ‘I have a confession to make,’ he murmured, catching her around the waist and pulling her into his embrace again.

  ‘Oh yes?’ she breathed, caught by the intensity of his gaze.

  ‘I promised to obey you too.’

  ‘Really?’ Mistral’s eyes widened at the world of possibilities that suddenly presented themselves.

  Fabian caught her look and smiled, ‘Within reason.’

  ‘Let’s start small then,’ she said quickly. ‘I hunt this morning, and take part in the event this afternoon, then we leave first thing in the morning and I do nothing but focus on mastering my gift until I have it.’

  ‘Or until the winter solstice when we gracefully admit defeat and resign ourselves to a life of Contracts, hunting and travel on mercenary work –’

  Mistral’s smile faltered as Fabian repeated Saul’s words to her. Noting instantly the change in her expression, his eyes tightened.

  ‘Something I said?’ he asked softly.

  ‘No ... yes … oh! Only that is what I want more than anything!’ she admitted in an agitated voice.

  ‘And?’

  His penetrating black gaze bored deeply into hers, forcing the truth from her as easily as though the twins had used their gift to make her confess in a voice small with guilt.

  ‘You’re not the first person to offer me that life.’

  ‘Did he really?’ Fabian growled softly. ‘He obviously knows you better than I gave him credit for.’

  ‘No, he doesn’t.’ Mistral corrected quickly and held his iron stare with her own. ‘Or he wouldn’t have even opened his mouth and wasted breath on the words. You are the only one for me Fabian. You know me better than I know myself and nothing is going to come between us! Let’s just get today done with and then tomorrow we leave for the Valley and I focus on mastering my gift.’

  Fabian looked at her for a long moment, holding her sincere gaze as her eyes willed him to accept the truth. She didn’t want Saul, she wanted him … and if that meant being a Seer, so be it. As far as she saw it her destiny was just another brief stumbling block on the path of what she really wanted. A life with Fabian, the man gazing at her now with shining eyes of ebony and a smile she would walk through fire to see.

  ‘Then let me tell you about harpies –’

  He breathed the words in whisper more seductive than a thousand sweetly murmured promises. Gently pulling her down to sit beside him, he began to describe the prey she and her brothers were to be hunting that morning.

  ‘They are vicious, of course, and very similar in size and mannerisms to their other mountain dwelling cousins, the gargoyles.’

  ‘Are they poisonous too?’ she interrupted in a breathless whisper.

  ‘No.’ Fabian smiled at her disappointed expression. ‘But they are more intelligent than gargoyles are also armed with incredibly sharp teeth and talons. Do not doubt that they will make a formidable prey. They will have been caught in the Southern Range and bought to the forests especially for today’s hunt. The forest is not their natural habitat so they will be nervous and more aggressive than usual.’

  ‘What’s stopping them flying back? Will their wings have been clipped?’

  ‘No, that would be unnecessary. Have you ever visited The Emerald Forests during summertime?’

  ‘No, only in early spring.’

  Fabian nodded, ‘Well, The Emerald Forests are more like a cave during the summer. The hanging moss will make it almost impossible for the harpies to fly out through the branches overhead. They are effectively trapped there until they find their bearings and start to head for the edges. I am sure they will have only been released this morning, so they will still be disorientated.’

  ‘Weak spots?’ Mistral demanded, her eyes narrowed in concentration.

  ‘The hide is tough, arrows and bolts are not so effective on the body … but their eyes … that is their weak spot –’

  ‘Hear that brothers?’ Mistral abruptly called out in an excited voice. ‘We … er, I mean you … need to aim for the eyes!’

  ‘Thanks!’ Cain called back while he strapped on his knife belt. ‘Are you coming then or what?’ he added in slightly impatient voice.

  ‘Of course!’ Mistral leapt excitedly to her feet. ‘But wait! Am I allowed Prospero or is he classed as an “unfair advantage”?’

  ‘Definitely falls into the category of unfair advantage, mores the pity. This is one hunt he’ll have to sit out.’ Xerxes replied with an apologetic look at the dog, excitedly wagging his tail at the mention of the word “hunt”.

  ‘I will take care of Prospero.’ Fabian rubbed the dog’s head fondly. ‘And I will feed him too. Something other than fairies.’

  Mistral smiled and gave her dog a rueful pat. He would have been a great help during the hunt today, not just for the harpies either.

  ‘Wait a minute!’ Xerxes called loudly over the noise of warriors preparing for the hunt. ‘There’s a restriction on the number in the hunting party!’

  Samson swore and reached out for the parchment in Xerxes’ hand, ‘And there was me thinking we had this one in the bag with fifteen of us going out!’

  ‘Yes, I think that’s the point of the restriction.’ Xerxes said drily and pointed to the paragraph he had been reading. ‘We can only submit a hunting party of five.’

  Mistral smiled, confident in the knowledge that place was assured. She had to enter or the Ri would forfeit their right to enter the final.

  ‘Which must include any competitors already eligible for the final, so that’s Mistral and Grendel in for definite. Which only leaves three places up for grabs.’ Xerxes looked up to meet a host of eager stares. ‘Er …two of which have to be the twins, if we’re going to stick to the original plan?’ he glanced quickly at Fabian who nodded tersely.

  ‘Which only leaves one place.’ Samson finished in a growl.

  ‘Um, right.’ Xerxes swallowed and looked to Phantasm for help.

  ‘Names in a bag.’ Phantasm said quickly. ‘It’s the only fair way. Agreed?’

  After a moment’s pause the warriors all reluctantly gave their assent. Phantom quickly tore up a piece of parchment and passed around the pieces with a quill while Phantasm emptied his saddlebag and held it open for the warriors to place their slips of parchment into.

  ‘Right, I’ll put Brutus’ name in as well, since he’s not back yet … now, someone neutral to select the names … Mage De Winter?’ Phantasm asked politely and held the bag out.

 
Fabian reached into the bag and drew out a folded scrap of parchment then passed it to Phantom unopened.

  ‘Samso –’

  ‘Ha!’ Samson’s victorious shout rang out before Phantom had finished calling his name.

  Fabian glanced up to catch Samson’s eye. Mistral observed their silent communication with narrowed eyes; she may not have Prospero with her on the hunt, but it looked like she would still have a guard dog.

  Suddenly the camp was alive with noise and activity as each warrior began to loudly offer advice on the hunt, all competing with each other to appear the most knowledgeable on either the prey or the terrain.

  ‘Arrows! Poisoned will be best of course! I brew quite a nice one myself actually, definitely what you need today!’ One warrior was insisting to Phantasm, who nodded politely and concentrated on repacking his saddlebag.

  ‘Don’t be stupid Jareth! Arrows in The Emerald Forests won’t work! You’ll never get a clear shot!’ Scoffed another warrior and elbowed Jareth out of the way to take his place beside Phantasm while he tightened the straps on his full saddlebag with a glazed expression on his face. ‘Throwing knives are what you need today! Poisoned of course –’

  ‘And aim for the eyes!’ Jareth interjected, determined not to be left out.

  Phantasm nodded vaguely and caught Mistral’s amused look. He quickly hid a grin when Jareth turned to include her in the conversation.

  ‘You can behead them too! I did on my last Contract in the Southern Range. Now that was a hunt to remember! I nearly died –’

  ‘I do apologise Jareth.’ Fabian murmured, pulling Mistral away from the warrior enthusiastically reliving his near-death encounter. ‘But we really need to be going. I’m sure Mistral would love to hear your adventure another time.’

  Mistral threw Jareth an apologetic look while she was led away then turned to hiss under her breath to Fabian, ‘Oh, thank you! I thought I was going to have to kill him to make him shut up!’

  Fabian laughed softly and ducked inside the tent, ‘Jareth likes to tell a tale or two. I think he could probably rival the twins. Now –’ he was suddenly business-like, opening her saddlebag and pulling out her armour. ‘Definitely full armour today … for you and Cirrus.’