The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams)

by Jones, Kirsten

  ‘Within the boundaries we agreed upon. Namely listening to Cain and allowing your brothers to assist you.’

  Mistral waved a hand, ‘Whatever. Back to the main point. I get to hunt some seriously fun sounding creatures plus the chance to fire a few bolts into a gorgon, and in return all I have to do is let Grendel deal the actual death blow? Which is usually the most boring one, by the way.’

  ‘I’m not sure I’ve ever heard any of those creatures described as being “fun” before.’ Fabian sighed. ‘But yes, I do not want you anywhere near that gorgon once it realises that its time has come.’

  ‘Fine, so, just to double-check; I can have a go at the gorgon, but if it’s just me and Grendel at the end he can kill the gorgon and be the winner? Because winning is definitely not what I’m interested in! I would rather walk out of the Arena leaving the gorgon still standing than have to do any bowing and scraping and “thank you Bryden” speeches. That’s no compromise Fabian. That’s just good all round!’

  ‘So, you agree to my terms?’ Fabian opened his arms, his smile inviting.

  ‘Oh, yes, they are perfectly acceptable.’ Mistral slid into his embrace, shameless in defeat.

  Fabian closed his arms around her and drew in a deep breath, ‘And now all that remains is for me to find it within myself to actually let you step foot into that Arena.’

  ‘Let me offer you some incentive.’ Mistral titled her head up to kiss him, stopping only when Cain announced his presence with a polite cough to request her throwing knives.

  ‘I’ll get them.’ Mistral sighed, throwing Fabian a burning look she slipped from his hold and followed Cain back into the tent.

  Fabian sat quietly, seemingly lost in thought. After a while he rose to his feet and walked over to where Saul was sat, calmly rubbing a polishing cloth along the bevelled edge of his sword.

  ‘Saul.’

  Saul didn’t look up from his task, ‘Mage De Winter.’

  ‘We both know that Grendel has no need of a second and that as a Mage I am not permitted to enter the Arena, whereas you are. This leaves me in the unique position of being forced into asking a favour from you.’

  Saul smiled humourlessly and ran the cloth down the length of his sword, ‘The irony of your situation is not lost on me.’

  Fabian gritted his teeth, ‘I need to request that you protect my wife when I cannot.’

  Saul looked up, meeting Fabian’s cold stare unflinchingly, ‘I will fight for Mistral.’

  Fabian’s eyes narrowed, reading the double-meaning in Saul’s words, ‘Do not shorten your life by goading me! It is only out of respect for her wishes that you still draw breath! Mistral is not free to fight for!’

  Saul smiled slowly, ‘You can’t kill me. Mistral would never forgive you.’

  Fabian drew in a sharp breath and exhaled slowly, ‘Saul. She is not yours and while there is breath in my body she never will be. Do not waste your own life waiting for me to die so that you can fulfil some fantasy – because that is all it will ever be, I assure you of that fact.’

  Saul pressed his sword point down into the ground, his usually mild gaze aflame with anger, ‘She would have a happier life with me! I would never force her to embrace a gift she doesn’t want. You, Mage, are a hypocrite! You deny your blood yet force her to accept hers when anyone that cares can see she doesn’t want it!’

  ‘Would you shorten her life by allowing her to burn so brightly and die just as quickly?’ Fabian leaned closer, hissing his words into Saul’s face. ‘Because that is what she will do without the tempering power of Sight! Are you so blinded by obsession that you cannot see what she is doing? She’s running from her destiny Saul! All her recklessness, her innate wildness – it’s all an unconscious fear, an attempt to shield her from what she was born to do!’

  Saul shook his head stubbornly, ‘If she was mine I would respect her wishes.’

  Fabian’s reply was dangerously soft, ‘Ah, but she is not yours. She is mine. And I respect her more than you have even the right to imagine.’

  Saul snorted and returned his attention to his sword.

  Fabian abruptly stood upright, ‘This conversation does not serve the purpose to which I intended. I ask of you, brother of the Ri, will you defend your sister today?’

  ‘With my life.’

  Fabian eyed him coldly, his killer’s stare boring deep into Saul’s, ‘Despite the just cause you offer me, I do not wish that.’

  ‘Fabian?’

  Mistral’s voice cut through the frosty atmosphere.

  ‘Yes?’ he responded quietly, his black gaze still fixed on Saul’s.

  ‘Can you help me with my armour please?’

  ‘Of course.’ he turned on his heel and strode over to the tent.

  ‘What was that about?’ Mistral whispered over her shoulder while he pulled on the straps to tighten her armour.

  ‘We were just reaching an agreement Mistral, nothing for you to be concerned about.’

  ‘It didn’t sound like nothing!’

  ‘Well it was.’ Fabian turned her around and began to adjust the clavicle straps, his eyes avoiding hers.

  ‘Fabian!’

  Fabian finally met her gaze, his expression inscrutable, ‘I asked Saul to assist Cain in protecting you,’

  Mistral frowned, ‘You did? But I thought you’d want the opposite.’

  ‘Why would I want that?’ Fabian asked, concentrating on tugging a vambrace up her forearm.

  Mistral sighed, ‘I wasn’t sure how comfortable you’d be with the idea of Saul being in the final when you couldn’t. You know I’d rather have you with me than anyone. But that’s impossible, since you’re a Mage and this is the Festival of the Arcane ... d’you think I should have Phantasm?’ she suddenly asked. ‘He’s a lot taller than Cain and might draw some of the attention away from me –’

  ‘Definitely not.’ Fabian snapped, taking his anger out on the leather sheaf on her arm. ‘The twins need to be together or their gift is useless.’

  ‘But what if I had Phantasm and Grendel had Phantom as a second?’ Mistral persisted, her voice rising in excitement.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not?’

  Fabian finished positioning the vambrace and looked up, ‘What if one of them sustained an injury, or worse?’

  Mistral’s face abruptly fell, ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

  ‘They wouldn’t be able to use their gift to help you or Grendel, and you may have lost a brother in the process.’

  ‘Don’t say that Fabian!’ Mistral’s expression grew distraught. ‘Phantom was nearly savaged by a harpy today because he was running to help me! I hate the thought of the twins putting themselves at risk just to protect me! I’m really not worth it –’

  ‘You are to me.’ Fabian gazed intently at her. ‘And to the twins. In fact, I don’t think there is one of your brothers who would think twice about risking everything to protect you.’

  ‘Well I have no idea why! All I do is storm around shouting at them most of the time!’

  ‘Maybe so, but let me ask you this; would you hesitate to help if one of them were in need? Even if it meant risking your life?’

  ‘Of course not! If any of my brothers needed help I would be there in a heartbeat!’

  He lifted a hand to caress her cheek, ‘Such fierce loyalty can only inspire the same in return.’

  ‘But you always come first.’ Mistral quickly caught his hand, holding it against her skin, her eyes locked on his. ‘Before anyone or anything. You know that don’t you Fabian?’

  Fabian stared at her, his face consumed by intense emotion, ‘Today … it is my worst nightmare. To be forced to stand back and watch you be placed in danger, over and over, and be powerless to prevent it, or even allowed to try and protect you –’

  ‘It’s torture, I know.’ Mistral whispered, thinking of the feelings Golden had forced her to endure. ‘But you are protecting me Fabian. You will be there with the twins, ready to use their gift,
and I will have Cain, Grendel and now Saul right beside me … and I promise –’

  He suddenly smiled and bent his head to kiss her lips, stopping her from speaking, ‘No more promises today, remember?’

  ‘Is it safe to plan this event yet?’ Cain demanded impatiently from the tent entrance. ‘Only some of us actually like to be prepared before entering life-threatening situations!’

  ‘Are you ready?’ Fabian asked quietly.

  Mistral smiled, ‘Oh yes.’ she turned and walked from the tent, nodding a curt greeting to Cain as she passed. ‘Second.’

  Cain turned to follow her, ‘I’m not calling you “First”!’

  ‘Cain? A moment please.’

  Cain paused and turned back to meet Fabian’s fathomless black gaze, ‘Mage De Winter?’

  ‘Tell me what you have prepared for the event.’

  Cain nodded and pulled his saddlebag from his shoulder, ‘Basic medical kit, antidotes … a Theriac actually, I was very impressed with the results on you … a flask of water, poison, two daggers, more throwing knives –’

  ‘Tourniquet?’ Fabian asked sharply.

  Cain hesitated then nodded, ‘Yes, I have one. There’ll be no time to stitch any wounds, so a tourniquet will enable me to slow any serious blood loss on the extremities.’

  Fabian closed his eyes briefly before continuing in a cold voice, ‘How do you plan to treat body wounds?’

  ‘I have plenty of linen gauze and clean bandages. If she sustains anything that causes serious bleeding or loss of consciousness then I’ll withdraw her and forego my place to treat her.’

  ‘Pain relief?’

  Cain shook his head, ‘None. I didn’t think it advisable to mask pain in Mistral. It might make her even more reckless. She’s proven to be quite susceptible to stimulants.’

  Fabian’s eyes hardened, ‘I know.’

  Cain scratched his temple, ‘About that manticore liquor –’

  ‘I am not concerned with the past Cain, only the next two hours.’ Fabian said quietly. He walked over to the tent flap, pausing at Cain’s side. ‘You have prepared well for this. I am grateful to you.’

  Cain shrugged, ‘I admit she can be a bit difficult at times, but Mistral’s a sister and she’d do the same for any us.’ he gave a quick flash of his impish grin. ‘And if she ever gets the hang of her gift she’ll be a handy person to have in a card game!’

  ‘I hope her gift will mean more to the Isle than a winning hand for you!’ Fabian snapped and strode from the tent.

  ‘No sense of humour.’ Cain muttered under his breath once he was certain Fabian was out of earshot.

  ‘I think we should get down to the Arena and work out a strategy.’ Xerxes rubbed his chin speculatively. ‘They must have the put up some barriers or cages to stop the creatures from attacking each other.’

  ‘I agree.’ Brutus stood up. ‘Ready Mistral?’

  ‘I think so.’ Mistral finished tying her hair back and looked around. ‘But where’s Grendel?’

  ‘Last minute visit to his adoring fan club.’

  Mistral smiled at Xerxes’ suddenly sour expression, ‘Don’t worry Xerxes. You’ll be heading back to your own army of sweethearts tomorrow.’

  ‘Ah, I’ve missed them.’ Xerxes sighed, a faraway look in his eyes.

  Brutus smirked, ‘Any of them in particular?’

  Xerxes gave his brother a reproachful look, ‘Of course not! That would be favouritism!’

  Mistral shrugged on her sword holster, ‘Well let’s just hope they’ve missed you as much.’

  ‘Of course they will have! I’m an –’

  ‘Stop!’ Mistral quickly held up both hands. ‘Don’t say it brother!’

  ‘Ready now?’ Fabian murmured softly in her ear.

  ‘Oh, yes. Sorry, I was just –’ she turned to face Fabian and instantly didn’t want to go. She didn’t care about the final, her gift, or anything other than the sudden urge to walk away with him right now, to leave and never look back, never face another day of struggling to master Sight or fight against the desperate longing to be with him.

  Before her wild thoughts could take root and become full blown rebellion she was being swept away along the avenue by her brothers. They fell short of hoisting her onto their shoulders but there were definitely times when her feet weren’t touching the ground. Samson and the rest of the Ri warriors quickly joined them, their buoyant mood at having two Ri in the final considerably heightened by a liquid lunch.

  ‘Hey Xerxes!’ Samson called loudly. ‘You do realise that it’s fairly short odds on a Ri warrior winning!’

  ‘I know, I know.’ Xerxes’ grin became a scowl. ‘I’m just glad you didn’t get in as well.’

  ‘Centaurs!’ Samson shook his lion’s mane of hair. ‘Six harpies they shot. Didn’t even go further than the outskirts of the forest apparently. Just lined up and took aim from the edge! Can you believe it?’

  ‘Frankly, yes.’ Brutus replied. ‘Centaurs are famous for the bow, even more so than elves. I’ve seen one shoot down another arrow before. Their aim is never off.’

  ‘Well I wish it had been today!’

  Mistral glanced at Fabian as she was hurried along. He hadn’t spoken a word since they’d left the camp. His face was rigid with tension, his aura black with despair. She suddenly curled her hands into fists and closed her eyes, feeling tears prick as a strange certainty washed over her. She suddenly knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that something terrible was going to happen.

  ‘Fabian!’

  Mistral gasped his name before she could stop herself, her mind filled with thoughts of begging him to leave with her now, slip away before the event started and avoid whatever disaster.

  ‘What is it?’ he immediately frowned at the panic in her eyes.

  ‘I – I don’t know! Something … I don’t know, nothing –’ A premonition? Mistral couldn’t even bring herself to say something so dramatic.

  ‘Mistral.’ Fabian’s voice was low, urgent. ‘You are a Seer, whether you want to be or not. Your gift lives within you as the Craft lives within every Mage. It will protect you and warn of any impending danger. You must tell me now, what have you felt?’

  Her eyes raked his face, wild and frantic, her confession gathering force, preparing to erupt from the tip of her tongue, then the sound of laughter dragged her gaze away from his. Cain was laughing with Saul, his face glowing with pride at being in the final. She closed her eyes, swallowing down the burning words on her tongue. There was no way she could take that away from her brother.

  ‘Nothing. Just last minute nerves.’

  ‘Since when do you suffer from nerves?’ Fabian hissed furiously.

  Mistral forced a hollow laugh, ‘Oh, I don’t know, I was pretty bad at our wedding.’

  ‘Mistral!’ Fabian gripped her arm tightly and jerked her round to face him. ‘If you have felt something then you must let me know, right now!’

  She wrenched her mouth into the semblance of a smile, but even she knew it looked like it felt. Weak. False.

  ‘It’s nothing Fabian, really. I’m just worried I’ll let the Ri down.’

  Fabian studied her face, his eyes black with anger, ‘You are a terrible liar Mistral. If you don’t tell me what you have Seen then I will have you thrown out of the damned final!’

  Mistral seized upon the chance to be angry, anything to wash away the clawing fear building inside her, ‘Thrown out? And just how will you do that?’

  ‘I will go to Bryden and tell him of your plans to use the twins’ gift to control the other competitors. You and the Ri will be disqualified for cheating.’

  ‘You wouldn’t!’ Mistral’s false anger quickly became astonishment, but she didn’t need to read his aura to know he was deadly serious. She rubbed a hand across her forehead, knowing she was beaten. Confess and he would stop her from entering, Cain too. Try to lie further and he would get the Ri disqualified. What was left but the truth? ‘But it’s nothing Fabian! I just ha
d this … oh, I don’t know … really bad … feeling.’ she finished lamely.

  ‘A premonition.’

  Mistral grimaced and said nothing, keeping her eyes fixed on the boots walking her towards the Arena.

  ‘Of what?’ he persisted.

  ‘I don’t know. But I wanted to cry.’ Mistral looked up, her expression suddenly fierce. ‘Promise me, swear to me on my life that you won’t enter the Arena, no matter what happens Fabian! I can’t lose you!’

  He shook his head slowly, ‘I cannot promise you that.’

  ‘You must!’

  He held her anguished gaze, ‘I will promise you that unless it is to protect your life, I will not enter the Arena.’

  ‘No! I don’t want you to –’

  Her words were lost in a deafening roar. Mistral looked up wildly, expecting to see a dragon or some other creature worthy of such a noise but what she saw terrified her more. She stared at the vast crowd assembled around the Arena, all chanting and shouting. Every single attendee at the festival had turned out to watch the event; the final, the ultimate celebration of the festival.

  ‘What the hell?’ her shocked gaze slid over the sea of faces.

  ‘Did you think you’d be competing in front of a small panel of select judges, sister?’ Cain enquired, appearing beside her with a grin. ‘This is the final! Of course everyone’s here to see it! You’re practically famous now!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Ah, but of course. You didn’t realise there would actually be an audience, did you?’ Cain pulled her away from Fabian with a roll of his eyes. ‘Forget them Mistral. They’re just the background. We need to study the layout.’

  ‘Do we?’

  Cain hauled her on, ‘Yes, we do! Just when will you start to realise that it is all about the details?’

  ‘Never.’

  Cain laughed and dragged her to the edge of the Arena where the twins were stood, gazing silently across the open space with calculating expressions.

  Mistral followed their looks and stared with uncomprehending eyes at the contraption that had been placed in the centre of the Arena. It was made of metal grids to form a huge circle. A cage. Five doors were positioned around the outside. A cacophony of shrieks and howls could clearly be heard coming from the enraged occupants.