‘Do you think we’ll ever get the other half of our honeymoon?’ she suddenly asked.
He turned to look at her and smiled slowly, ‘I sincerely hope so.’
‘Oh good,’ she bit into some cold roast boar, offering the other piece to him.
It began to snow as the morning wore by, inconsequential flakes of white that clung to their fur hats and swirled through the air. They landed on the rock ledge to be teased into small drifts by the bitter wind that blew in sudden gusts around them. Mistral distracted herself from the biting cold by listening to her brothers’ thoughts. At first she focused only on Brutus and the twins until she grew bored and listened to Cain, smiling in amusement at his good-natured irritation at Grendel … Grendel … his thoughts were enviably simplistic, a series of wants to be assuaged by food or drink, the urge to hunt. With some trepidation she forced herself to listen to Xerxes and was pleasantly surprised to find him utterly focused on the hunt. He was taking his role as a party leader very seriously. She didn’t linger in his thoughts for fear that they might suddenly take a more recreational turn and returned to the twins’ familiar flow of inane patter.
Fabian became an unmoving statue stood at the edge of their rocky platform. His eyes continually raked the northern face of the mountain, seeking the glimmer of dragon skin. He spoke only occasionally, and usually to ask her what she had heard in her brothers’ thoughts. Mistral would repeat to him what she heard, only editing out the one single thought from Cain that had made her heart lurch painfully –
I wish Saul were here to see this.
Saul. Their brother. The one who had asked for more than she was capable of giving.
Love.
That one simple word belied the world of complication it entailed. She could barely comprehend the depth of emotion she felt for Fabian let alone begin to fathom the bond she felt with her brothers. She glanced over at Fabian again. He was gazing intently at sky, his expression tense while he studied the changing weather.
‘We must make the journey back without staying overnight in the mountains,’ he said in a worried voice. ‘This weather is closing in.’
Mistral nodded and looked up at the uniformly grey sky; breathing in the metallic taste of snow. To be caught in Northern Range during the heavy winter falls would be foolish. ‘Let’s hope the dragons want some breakfast soon then,’ she said and stared over at the location of the dragon nest again.
Another hour passed in freezing cold monotony. Mistral submitted to the warmth of Fabian’s embrace reluctantly, knowing she would be distracted once encircled in his arms. And she was; gazing wistfully up at his serious face while he continued to watch for the dragon herd.
They’re coming!!!
Brutus’ thought pierced through her pleasant daydreams, bringing with it a welcome rush of adrenaline. ‘They’re coming!’ She repeated to Fabian in a breathless gasp, leaping from his arms and ripping off her gloves to reach for her bow.
‘Take left, I’ll take right,’ he instructed. Throwing his gloves down onto the snow-covered rock he passed her a poison-tipped arrow.
She took it from him wordlessly. Notching it into her bow she took her position at the edge and drew the string tight. Then came the waiting, staring out through the swirling snow, watching for the first sight of their prey … dragons …
Dark shapes began to appear through the snow-filled sky, swooping silently towards them on leathery wings the colour of earth. Mistral was instantly lost. Dragons ... even their name conjured images of fearful savagery, but to Mistral they were beautiful. They flew with a sinuous grace, their long bodies dipping and arcing with every beat of their powerful wings, almost as though they were swimming through the air. They flew closer, drawn in by the bestra’s strong scent. Mistral held her breath and curled her finger around the string of her bow, counting each dragon that appeared through the dim light.
‘I see five!’ She hissed to Fabian.
The olive green tones of each dragon’s hide told her these were the juvenile females. They split into two groups and began to circle above the mournfully lowering bestra. Mistral narrowed her eyes and drew the string of her bow tight, focusing on one of the dragons, waiting tensely for it to expose one of its few vulnerable points to her. She cursed silently as it continued to circle warily above the bestra, intrigued by their tantalising scent but cautious of danger, unconfident without the presence of their herd leader. At some unseen signal between them, the dragons suddenly pitched into a steep dive, plummeting with the speed of a hunting hawk, twisting around with their claws outstretched to reveal sleek underbellies, finally exposing the soft patch of skin tucked behind each scaly elbow.
Mistral immediately released her finger and loosed her poison-tipped arrow, hearing the high-pitched whine of her arrow’s flight echoed all around as her brothers also saw the opportunity and fired simultaneously. At once the air rang to the thunderous roars of the dragons, surprised by the hail of arrows that rained down on them from unseen enemies. Mistral watched the progress of her own arrow with bated breath – it flew straight, only to miss its mark by inches and bounce uselessly against the armoured scales of the dragon’s flanks.
Reload …
Mine struck!
Shot!
Hah! One down!
Damn it! I missed.
Bad luck brother.
You’re going to owe me money today brother!
Shut up Brutus!
Mistral’s mind instinctively flew out to each of her brothers, hearing how they had fared while she notched another poisoned arrow into her bow. She listened to them briefly but it was too distracting. She needed to concentrate. Blocking them out, she finished reloading and took aim once more. Fabian had already reloaded and positioned himself back at the edge with his bow drawn tight, aiming for one of the surviving dragons dipping and wheeling through the air in panicked circles, the bestra forgotten as they sought out the danger firing at them. Mistral pulled her bowstring tight, following the progress of the three remaining dragons. Aiming carefully for the gleaming emerald green eye of the dragon gliding through the air nearest to them she began to relax her finger –
The queen is here!
Phantom’s silent exclamation made her finger contract. Forgetting the juvenile dragon in her sights she immediately looked around for the fabled queen.
And suddenly, she was there.
Mistral was abruptly oblivious to everything around her; the sound of Fabian firing, the resulting scream from the dragon it struck, the bow gripped in her hand, the last two dragons bearing down on her brothers with muzzles twisted into snarls of rage ... none of it mattered. All she saw was the glorious sight of the dragon queen gliding out of the snowstorm. No books could prepare her for the sheer majesty of the creature now circling slowly above them. Mistral could only stare helplessly, her bow dangling forgotten by her side. The queen was easily twice the size of her offspring. She soared through the sky on wings the colour of an autumn sunset, her vast body armoured by gleaming scales of scarlet and gold that tapered smoothly down to a long, barb-tipped tail. She turned in the air, swooping down with silent and terrible grace, raking the mountain with eyes of molten bronze, seeking out the danger that threatened her family.
‘Be completely still!’ Fabian breathed out a warning, inching his body protectively in front of hers while the queen circled in the air above them.
We can’t fire! She’s too close to you! If we miss, she’ll just attack …
Damn! Damn!
Where the hell are those sedated arrows!
!!!
The twins’ frantic thoughts sounded emptily in her mind. She and Fabian were frozen statues, camouflaged in the falling snow by their white fur cloaks. The queen swept around in a curving arc, her head weaving left and right, searching. A sudden gust of icy wind swirled around them. Fabian swore violently as it blew their scent right into the flame-red nostrils of the queen. She reacted with lightning speed, swooping down to glide past the
ir ledge, near enough for Mistral to feel the air displaced by each powerful sweep of her wings. Her nostrils flared, drawing in their scent. With a low growl her head snapped around to stare directly at them, so close that Mistral could see her own fur-clad figure reflected in the metallic sheen of her eyes.
‘Get back!’ Fabian snapped and stepped quickly in front of her, already drawing the string of his bow tight, aiming for one the bronze eyes. With a movement so fast that neither of them saw it coming, the queen lashed out with her long tail, striking Fabian around the legs and knocking him to the ground. Mistral was left staring into the eyes of the dragon queen, hovering in the air in front of her. Opening her mouth wide the queen exhaled a long breath, enveloping Mistral in a sweet-scented cloud of warm air.
Mistral’s bow fell unnoticed from her hand, her mind suddenly filled with the certainty that the queen not only knew her, but had been waiting for this day for a long time. Thoughts battered against Mistral’s stupefied mind, the twins’ startled fear, Cain’s shout of warning, Fabian’s panic ... it all drifted away to become mere background noise. She locked gazes with the most feared creature on the Isle and felt an overwhelming burst of love.
Everything that identified her life was suddenly insignificant. Her gift, the twins, even Fabian … her Mage ... it all faded to nothing in the face of such all-consuming emotion. Her world imploded to be instantly resurrected by the one simple fact that she was loved, completely and utterly; a love that was pure, uncomplicated by passion or jealousy, boundless and unquestioning.
Unconditional.
For the first time in her life, Mistral experienced a mother’s love.
With a low cry of joy she ran to the edge and flung herself out into thin air, trusting implicitly in the creature that called to her. The jaws that closed around her were an embrace more tender than Fabian’s arms. She suddenly knew how it felt to be adored, cherished ... safe. And it was paradise.
A low growl rumbled from the jaws that held her so carefully, a crooning that was almost musical. A lullaby. Mistral felt her eyes begin to close. She gazed dreamily up into the slitted glimmers of bronze and knew complete peace. With a smile of contentment she submitted to the irresistible pull of sleep, just as the world began to spin uncontrollably around her. Deep within her drugged mind Mistral suddenly knew that something was wrong. She forced the leaden lids of her eyes to open and stared uncomprehendingly at the blizzard spinning past her in dizzying spirals. With a burst of fear she realised that they were falling. Wind streamed past her, lifting the fur hood of her cloak away from her face and freeing her vision to see fully the creature that held her so gently in its jaws. The bronze eyes that met her frightened look were filled with such deep loss that Mistral immediately began to cry. To have found such love only to lose it so quickly was insufferable.
The queen fell soundlessly, tumbling thought the air to crash heavily onto the frozen ground. Mistral was flung from the queen’s jaws by the force of the impact and lay in the snow beside her still head, staring numbly into the glazed bronze eyes.
‘No!’
Her anguished sob was drowned by the sound of Fabian calling her name. But Mistral couldn’t see him. All she could see was the queen. Her bronze eyes closed. She gave a last shuddered gasp of warm, sweet breath and Mistral knew no more.
Snowbound
Mistral could hear Fabian’s voice through the heavy fog that surrounded her brain. She struggled to call out to him but her lips felt strangely stiff and unresponsive. Forcing her eyes to open a fraction she recoiled from the light that struck her blurred vision. Wherever she was, it was definitely day.
‘She’s awake.’
A voice she couldn’t place. Who was it? She recognised the speaker … a male … someone she had met recently –
‘Mistral?’
Ah, now that voice she would know anywhere. Forcing her lips to respond, Mistral breathed his name. ‘Fabian.’
Eyes of blackest night stared anxiously into hers, she smiled stiffly in response.
‘How do you feel?’
She frowned. The action felt strange, as though the muscles of her face had been frozen and were not yet fully thawed. ‘What happened?’ She mumbled, forcing the words out through wooden lips.
‘The queen breathed on you Lady De Winter. Twice. You’ve been the recipient of a double dose of a powerful narcotic. Dragon breath. You are fortunate to still be alive.’
Mistral’s eyes swiveled to focus on the speaker, stood at the end of the narrow bed she was laid in. Ah yes … now she recognised the voice of the elven chieftain, Castor ... but she hadn’t understood a single word he’d just said. ‘How’d I get here?’ She turned her eyes back to Fabian, her head seemed unwilling to move yet.
‘Grendel carried you.’
‘Oh.’ Mistral forced an eyebrow to rise slightly. It resisted and she was left with a frozen expression of surprise on her face. ‘Wh –’ she was going to ask ‘why?’ but her lips struggled to purse and shape the word and Fabian was left to assume her question.
‘When? We arrived in the early hours of the morning.’
Mistral gave up with trying to express any sort of response and simply gazed at Fabian, suddenly too tired to even try to read his thoughts or do anything other than close her eyes and let sleep claim her again.
Fabian watched her eyes close and looked over at Castor, ‘I want Cain to check her over again. I simply cannot believe that she has no injuries! She was crying with pain when I reached her.’
‘It is very strange I admit.’ Castor regarded Mistral’s sleeping form pensively. ‘But then, there is much we do not understand here.’
Fabian stared at him coldly, ‘Such as?’
‘Well,’ Castor began, rubbing a hand thoughtfully across his chin, ‘there has never been a female warrior in contact with the herd before, let alone a Seer. Dragons are an ancient and powerful breed about which little is known due to their savage natures. I admit that I am very curious to know why the queen behaved the way she did,’ he paused and looked at Fabian, his eyes roving over the dark shadows under his eyes. ‘But you should rest my friend. We will know more when your lady awakes again.’
‘I will not leave her.’
Castor nodded and turned to leave, ‘Then I shall leave you alone. I will return later.’
The sound of the door closing quietly was immediately followed by it opening again as the twins slipped quietly into the room.
‘Has she awoken yet?’
‘Briefly.’
‘Did she speak?’
‘Yes.’
The twins waited expectantly for Fabian to continue but he relapsed into a brooding silence, watching Mistral sleep. Phantom shared a pained look with his brother at Fabian’s unforthcoming manner. ‘Did she say anything about what happened?’ Phantasm persisted.
‘No.’
‘We will stay with her if you wish to take some rest Mage De Winter.’
Fabian did not respond for a moment but continued to stare at Mistral. When he finally looked around it was all Phantasm could do not to express shock at bleakness in his eyes. ‘How can I leave her?’ He asked in a deathly whisper. ‘She is all I am.’
Phantasm held his gaze for a moment then nodded and turned to leave the room, his brother following quietly behind him.
It was dark when Mistral opened her eyes once more. The room was lit by the glow of a single candle, the faint light revealing the shadowed figure of Fabian, asleep on a chair beside her bed. She studied his face in the flickering candlelight, noting with a burst of compassion that he looked exhausted, haggard even. Shadows like bruises marked the skin beneath his closed eyes, he was rarely clean-shaven but the dark stubble that covered his jaw was longer than usual. She lay still, unwilling to move and wake him, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, rhythmical and hypnotic, matching her own breathing to his she soon succumbed to sleep once more.
When Mistral awoke again Fabian was gone. She stared unhappily
at Cain, sat in his place on the wooden chair beside her bed. ‘If you’re here it means something bad’s happened,’ she said resignedly.
‘Ah, good morning! And how is my favourite patient today?’
Mistral wriggled each of her toes, then her feet, ankles, legs, working her way up her body to finally blink her eyelids experimentally. ‘All present and correct, you may go now,’ she replied briskly.
Cain laughed quietly and reached down to undo the flap of his saddlebag, ‘Nice try, but I’m under orders from your Mage to be here.’
‘Where is here anyway?’ Mistral asked, gazing around curiously at her surroundings, now lit by bright rays of morning sunshine.
‘Diannah’s house.’ Cain replied distractedly while he shook a bottle of tonic and held it up to the light to read the label.
Mistral looked around the small room. Apart from the chair Cain was sat on and another neatly made single bed opposite hers, the only other piece of furniture in the room was a wardrobe. The wooden doors were pitted with distinctive arrow marks, as though it had been used for target practice. A pair of battered looking longbows were leant against the closed doors and beside them lay a pile of animal skins; trophies from past hunts. The walls of the room were bare apart from a large piece of parchment pinned lopsidedly beside the window where the light was best. Mistral studied it curiously. It had no writing on it, only rows of numbers. Some were circled, others scored out. Mistral recognised the chaotic mass of numbers instantly. It was a tally of wagers. She looked around the room with fresh eyes. She was in Brutus and Xerxes’ old bedroom.
The Seer Page 25