The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams)

by Jones, Kirsten

  ‘Fabian? What were you talking to Imperato about at the start of the final?’

  Fabian turned to her, frowning as though the answer were obvious, ‘You had a premonition of death Mistral. I had to be certain that it wasn’t your own so I spoke with Imperato. He would have seen it in the stars if your destiny had altered.’

  Mistral was too tired to roll her eyes or even sigh and simply asked, ‘Has it?’

  ‘It has not.’ Fabian confirmed shortly.

  She nodded wearily, still the Seer that couldn’t See.

  The horses were collected from the enclosure and saddled in silence. Riding single file they departed The Festival of the Arcane, leaving behind all that had happened there, both good and bad. The burned body of their brother remained; his ashes dust to be blown on the morning breeze.

  No-one spoke while they rode across the mist-shrouded grasslands, pale shadows in the ghostly predawn light. Cain stayed a short distance behind, leading Saul’s horse alongside his own, the pitiful sight of the riderless animal a constant reminder of their missing brother.

  Xerxes took the lead for the journey back, setting a steady pace that lasted all day and long into the night, halting only to rest the horses for a few hours at midnight. There was little or no conversation and although they all rolled themselves up in their cloaks as if to sleep, Mistral was sure it was more to avoid talking than to actually rest.

  Fabian didn’t even bother with the pretence. He sat with his sword resting lightly on his bent knees, looking out over the moonlit grasslands. Mistral sat with him, staring pensively up at the stars, those distant insignificant pinpricks of light. Was her destiny really written there, shaping a life for her heedless of whether she wanted it or not?

  During the long ride back Mistral detached herself from the others, suffering a persistent need for solitude that she knew wouldn’t be assuaged until the moment she rode for home with Fabian. She sustained herself throughout the journey with thoughts of them being together at their house, sitting beside him on the balcony, hearing his velvet voice speaking so softly to her and easing the pain in her heart, making her whole again.

  By the evening of their second day of travelling they had reached the meadows on the outskirts of the Valley. Xerxes signalled them into a canter, keen to reach the Valley before the light failed. Mistral held Cirrus back, watching them ride ahead. The moment had finally come. It was time for her and Fabian to leave. Peace was a short ride away. Fabian reined in beside her and turned to speak to her. His lips parted but the words he spoke were drowned out by an angry voice.

  ‘Where do you think you are going?’

  Phantasm had pulled his horse around and was riding back towards her.

  ‘Home.’

  ‘Oh no you are not Mistral. You are not running away from this!’

  Mistral met his cold look and felt the inexplicable urge to cry, ‘I can’t ride into the Valley tonight! I can’t face it!’

  ‘You can and you will.’

  ‘Please, just let me have one night.’ Mistral pleaded quietly. ‘I’ll come back tomorrow morning. I promise –’

  Phantasm cut her off with an angry sound, ‘No Mistral! Just how selfish are you? Saul gave his life so that you could live and fulfil your destiny! And you honour his sacrifice by sneaking off at the first opportunity? Just when are you going to face up to your responsibilities?’

  ‘I didn’t want Saul to die!’

  ‘You don’t know what you want Mistral!’

  ‘I – I –’ Mistral’s tears began to fall in earnest.

  ‘Tread lightly Phantasm.’ Fabian growled softly.

  ‘This needs to be said Mage De Winter!’ Phantasm leaned out of his saddle towards Mistral, his angry face just inches from hers. ‘Just how much love would it take to make you whole Mistral? You have a husband that would lay down his life for you without hesitation, a brother that already has and a further six who have proven their unquestionable loyalty to you time and time again! Yet you take it all for granted and continue to run from your destiny –’

  ‘Enough!’

  Fabian’s voice was ice, his eyes a world beyond cold. Silenced but not cowed, Phantasm threw Mistral a disgusted look and kicked his horse on sharply. Mistral watched him ride away to join the waiting group, his harsh words ringing in her ears, and worse, in her heart.

  ‘Mistral?’ Fabian’s voice dragged Mistral’s anguished gaze round to meet his. ‘You must return to the Valley tonight. It would be disrespectful to the memory of your fallen brother not to.’

  Mistral nodded stiffly. She sat unmoving in the saddle while Fabian reached out and took hold of Cirrus’ bridle, leading him beside Spirit back to the Valley, back to everything Mistral wanted to run from.

  They rode together in heavy silence until the huge North Gate loomed out of the growing darkness, ominous and black. Mistral felt a shiver of dread run down her spine when they passed beneath the watchful gaze of the guard and the warning bell began to toll.

  ‘If you have no objections, I am prepared to speak for us all tonight.’ Phantasm said quietly when they reached the village square.

  ‘Make it good brother.’ Xerxes muttered, his eyes on the scene before them.

  Drawn by the warning bell, a crowd had gathered, carrying torches that flooded the square. A figure strode across the cobbles, lit by the orange glow of torchlight.

  ‘Warriors. Dismount!’

  Leo’s cold voice rang across the silent square. He halted in front of them, his icy gaze raking the line, finally coming to rest upon Saul’s horse.

  ‘Saul has fallen.’

  It was a statement not a question, and no-one responded.

  ‘I will see you all in The Cloak and Dagger shortly, but now I wish to speak with Fabian and –’ his questing gaze swept across the line of warriors again.

  ‘Phantasm will join us.’ Fabian said quietly.

  Leo nodded curtly and turned on his heel, striding away along the path towards the Main Building.

  Fabian passed his reins to Mistral, his eyes holding hers. He touched a hand to her cheek in the briefest of gestures. Then he was gone.

  Mistral watched her Mage walk away from her. The only thing anchoring her to sanity was gone. Panic swept through her, wild and uncontrollable. She would have screamed, but she had no breath. She should have run after him, but her legs were wooden. She stood, immobile. Frozen.

  ‘Come with me Mistral. It’ll be alright.’

  Phantom was beside her, his presence calming her just enough to breathe again.

  ‘Let Clovis tend the horses. We need to pay our respects.’

  Mistral continued to stare at the empty path where Fabian had been only moments before, ‘I – I can’t!’

  ‘You can. He will be back soon.’

  She felt Phantom take her hand, gently pulling her towards The Cloak and Dagger. With one last desperate glance at the path Mistral let herself be led away. She stumbled along by Phantom’s side, holding his hand tightly. Voices spoke around her, muted and distant. She felt numb, removed from the sudden noise and light of the busy tavern while Phantom led her to a table and pushed her onto a chair.

  A goblet of spiced wine appeared before her and she took it gratefully, gulping down the warm liquid, sighing with relief when the heat of alcohol flooded through her. Placing her goblet down, she looked up to see that her brothers were also seated at the table. They were quiet, their faces uniformly blank, but Cain’s was desolate. His aura sprang into Mistral’s view and her hands tightened on her empty goblet, his grief tearing at her like a knife. Tears filled her eyes but she bit down hard on her lip, refusing to let them fall.

  ‘Tell me a story Cain.’ Mistral lifted her chin, her expression defiant while her eyes shone with unshed tears. ‘Tell one about our brother, something to make us remember him with a smile.’

  Cain turned his goblet slowly, his familiar crooked smile sad, ‘Ah, but he wanted to be remembered with respect.’

  �
��He is brother.’ Brutus refilled everyone’s goblets. ‘Tell a tale.’

  ‘Well, there was this one time that springs to mind.’ Cain paused and took a long drink from his goblet. ‘We were working in the north, a Council Contract. Damn was it cold! It was late January and some idiot farmer with less brains than a pea had dug up a hibernating nest of twin-headed vipers. You can imagine just how pleased they were to be woken up in winter! Anyway, the farmer obviously never made it home that night and what with it being Council-owned land, they had to be seen to act, so they called in the cavalry –’

  ‘Namely your good self and the boy Saul?’ Xerxes interjected with a grin.

  ‘The very same.’ Cain nodded, smiling crookedly again. ‘And there we are, literally freezing our –’

  ‘Cain!’

  ‘Sorry Mistral. Anyway it was rather cold and there we were trying to find a bed for the night in some godforsaken village full of inbred idiots that didn’t even know when to leave a nest of hibernating vipers alone, when who should show up but Cyrus and Barak –’

  ‘What? Those excuses for Training Lieutenants we had last year?’

  ‘Yes Mistral, now please try not to interrupt! Where was I? Oh yes, there they were, larger and uglier than life, grinning at us like we were brothers, not the apprentices that got them chucked out of the Ri last year! Anyway, they invited us to join them for a card game in the tavern. Turns out the locals hold a tournament there every January, not a lot else to do you see. Well, suffice to say, the vipers never got found. In fact, it took us three days to sober up and Saul never did find his left boot –’

  Xerxes wiped an imaginary tear from his eye, ‘Ah, brother, you make me so proud.’

  Mistral laughed into her wine while her brothers roared and slapped Cain on the back. At once colourful stories were being banded across the table, half-forgotten mishaps during training, disastrous Contracts and tales of drunken antics.

  ‘Good memories.’ Xerxes shook his head with a grin. ‘Hey Mistral! D’you remember you and Saul brawling with Barak in the Training Room?’

  ‘Yes brother.’ Mistral immediately hid her face in her goblet, choking down a huge swallow of wine to hide a sob.

  ‘Fill your tankards and drink! We do not mourn the passing of a warrior tonight but honour his life.’

  ‘Oh no! I can’t listen to him do that speech again.’ Phantom groaned when Leo’s voice sounded out across the noisy tavern.

  ‘It is starting to wear a bit thin.’ Brutus agreed.

  ‘Or maybe we’ve just heard his voice too much.’ Xerxes speculated.

  They all laughed and earned a glacial stare from Leo.

  ‘Stick it Leo.’ Cain muttered into his goblet. ‘Saul would rather we laughed than listened to your pompous speech.’

  ‘To Saul.’ Xerxes raised his drink.

  ‘Brother.’ they echoed and drained their goblets.

  ‘Another?’ Phantom enquired and reached for Mistral’s empty goblet.

  ‘Just have Floris bring a damned cask over.’ Xerxes waved a hand in an expansive gesture.

  ‘Good idea.’ Brutus leapt up. ‘Come on brother. Give me a hand –’

  Mistral watched the brothers force their way through the packed tavern then turned to Phantom, her voice quiet, ‘Brother?’

  ‘Yes Mistral?’

  She hesitated and fiddled with her goblet, ‘About what Phantasm said to me in the meadows –’

  Phantom cut her off sharply, ‘Forget every damned word. He was too harsh.’

  Mistral was too taken aback to argue. Phantom never contradicted his twin.

  Phantom took a drink from his goblet and lowered it with a sigh, ‘Look Mistral. I can see you’re riddled with guilt over Saul’s death, and I know you don’t want to be a Seer, more than you understand actually.’ He paused and frowned, turning the goblet thoughtfully. ‘I was hard on you at the start of the year, and I’m sorry for that. I was frustrated that you just didn’t seem to care about mastering Sight. It was selfish of me, I know, but I was impatient you see. I wanted you to join us.’ he looked up suddenly, his green eyes piercing. ‘We could be so powerful together.’

  ‘I don’t want power brother.’

  ‘No.’ Phantom looked at his goblet again. ‘I know. Believe it or not, I was also reluctant to accept the full responsibility of our gift too.’

  His gaze drifted across the bar, staring unseeingly into the past. Mistral kept quiet and watched him, waiting for him to continue.

  ‘My brother always saw more clearly than me what our gift meant. He knew how much we could achieve and precisely what we should do to get there, but I? Well, at first all I wanted to do was have fun, play tricks and cause trouble, the kind of mindless stupidity that would make Xerxes seem mature!’ He shook his head, embarrassed by the boy he had been. ‘But all that changed when we came to the Valley and met you.’

  ‘Me?’

  Phantom gazed at her, ‘Yes Mistral. You. You altered my perspective.’

  She frowned, bewildered, ‘But ... how?’

  He sighed, frustration and exasperation mingling on his beautiful face in a way that was so typically Phantom she almost wanted to smile.

  ‘Because Mistral, you have the Sight. Whether you like it or not. Do you have any idea of the potential we hold between us? I’m not talking about power now, I’m talking about gifts. We’re gifted. We can change things, for the good.’

  ‘The good?’ she echoed blankly.

  ‘Yes.’ Phantom nodded solemnly. ‘There are no limits.’

  Mistral gazed at him wordlessly while he took a long drink of wine and slowly placed the goblet back down.

  ‘We both care for you Mistral.’

  She blinked, thrown by his sudden change of direction. After everything that had happened at the festival there was no way she could cope with an emotional scene.

  ‘You are more than a sister to us, but I think you know that.’ Phantom fixed her with his mesmerising green gaze and smiled. ‘Phantasm has this theory. He thinks it’s too much of a coincidence that we three are here at the same time. He believes it was meant to be.’

  Mistral’s eyes slid from his to stare down at her empty goblet. Fabian had said much the same to her before and she couldn’t deny that it did seem awfully like –

  ‘Destiny.’

  ‘Talking of which, yours has just walked through the door.’

  Mistral’s eyes flew up to meet Fabian’s across the busy tavern. She immediately shoved her chair back and pushed her way through the crowd to meet him, the warmth of his embrace instantly easing the desperate ache within her.

  She tried to pull him towards the table but he resisted, his dark eyes veiled.

  ‘I cannot stay.’

  She stared up at him, abruptly bereft, ‘Why!’

  ‘Eximius is here –’

  ‘Mage Grapple’s in the Valley?’

  Fabian nodded, ‘The Divinus has been channelling Etienne’s thoughts since he became head of the Rochforte tribe. Etienne has called a meeting tonight to discuss their plans with regard to the Isle. The Divinus will be relaying the events to us as they happen and I need to be there Mistral, it is our future they will be discussing. You know how they covet your gift.’

  Mistral closed her eyes to hide her pain. Her wretched gift was keeping them apart again.

  ‘Wait! I’ll come with you!’

  ‘No. You must rest Mistral. I don’t think you have actually slept since we left the festival.’

  She felt her heart turn to lead at the prospect of an endless, lonely night.

  ‘But, where will you sleep?’ she whispered desperately.

  ‘I should not think I will. Our meeting may well go on until dawn.’

  ‘Will … will I see you in the morning?’ her voice was faint, barely audible above the noise in the room. She was almost ashamed of how much she needed him.

  ‘I will be here,’ he promised.

  She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath
, ‘When does this meeting start?’

  ‘It already has, I must go –’

  His lips touched hers for the briefest of moments and then he was gone, slipping quickly through the crowded tavern, vanishing out of the door before she released the breath frozen in her lungs.

  ‘Come and drink with your brothers Mistral.’ Brutus pulled her roughly back towards her seat. ‘You can stand there looking all aloof and play the Lady De Winter part all you like, but we all know you like to drink pints!’

  He thrust a tankard full of red wine at her and raised his own in a toast. She forced a smile and smashed her tankard into his, slopping red wine across the table, causing Xerxes to shout and dive to protect his tatty pack of cards from being soaked.

  ‘Deal brother!’ Brutus cried and tipped a bag of bronze coins out onto the table.

  Mistral played cards for a while but before long the combination of sleep deprivation and red wine soon made it too hard for her to concentrate. Giving up on the game, she rested her head onto her folded arms and let the babble of conversations flow over her, the pleasant sound drowning out the miserable thoughts in her head until she felt sleep tugging at her consciousness. Sighing with relief at the promise of oblivion, she submitted willingly and was soon fast asleep.

  ‘Come on sleeping beauty, we’ll take you back to your room.’

  The sound of Brutus and Xerxes laughing pierced her sleep fogged brain. She stumbled wearily to her feet and let them half-carry her to the dorms and her barren room.

  Alone, Mistral curled up on her bed with her arms buried in Prospero’s deep fur and tried to sleep, but a voice was whispering in her ear, persistent and invasive, preventing the peace she craved.

  Giving up on sleep, she rolled onto her back and stared up at the dark ceiling, watching the shadows flicker in the candlelight. Forcing herself to stay awake to avoid the voice in her mind she began to think about the angry words Phantasm had thrown at her in the meadows. Just how much love would it make to make her whole? Fabian loved her unreservedly, but his love was only part of her destiny. It could not complete her. Only Sight could, and that final missing detail was hers alone to find.