The Seer

by Kirsten Jones

  ‘Not quite. Want a clue?’

  ‘No!’ Phantom snapped and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. ‘Gambling?’

  ‘Really brother, I can’t see Master Sphinx trying to gain popularity by organising a gambling tournament!’ Phantasm scoffed.

  ‘Actually, he’s not too far off the mark.’ Mistral smiled. ‘The clue’s in the word “tournament”.’

  Phantasm looked incredulous, ‘Master Sphinx is going to organise a tournament to gain popularity amongst the warriors? Isn’t that a bit, well, blatant?’

  ‘Definitely.’ Phantom rolled his eyes. ‘What’s the prize ... no don’t tell me,’ he held a hand up wearily. ‘Is it ... money?’

  ‘Ultimately, yes.’ Fabian sat up a little straighter; indicating that the time for playing games was over, ‘The winners of the tournament will be awarded the Contract to drive the herd of unicorns to their new home in the Dawn Forests. Leo has set the Contract value himself at three hundred gold coins.’

  Phantom let out a low whistle, ‘That’s a lot of gold!’

  ‘And a once in a lifetime Contract too. The warriors who win the Contract will have their names recorded in the history books.’

  ‘Well, well, the lion is finally fighting back!’ Phantasm looked impressed. ‘Tournament, adventure, money and glory; all the things warriors love.’

  ‘So what will this tournament involve then? It’s not going to be a like The Festival of the Arcane is it?’ Phantom asked worriedly.

  ‘No, although confess the idea was originally inspired by The Festival. This tournament will be held over the course of a single day and will involve a series of challenges designed to test the warriors’ riding skills. This Contract is, after all, to safely move a rather wilful herd of unicorns half-way across the Isle. The successful warriors must have excellent horsemanship, be able to deal with any attempts to steal or hunt the herd along the way, and have the necessary survival skills to live out in the open during the journey.’

  ‘Sounds amazing doesn’t it?’ Mistral looked at the twins with shining eyes.

  ‘Not really.’ Phantom replied flatly. ‘I had a near miss with one of those foul-tempered ponies this morning! Spending the best part of a fortnight in their company is not high on my list of things I want to accomplish in my life.’

  Mistral and Fabian laughed but Phantasm frowned, ‘Forgive me, but you said “warriors”, did you not Mage De Winter?’

  ‘That is correct. The Contract is for three warriors.’

  ‘Huh!’ Phantom gave a disdainful snort. ‘That reduces the Contract value considerably!’

  ‘Not really. The Contract value is per warrior.’

  Phantom gave his brother a meaningful look, ‘I think it’s time we brushed up on our riding skills!’

  ‘Too little too late brothers! You’ll both be eating the mud thrown up by Cirrus’ hooves!’

  ‘No, they will not Mistral.’ Fabian gave her a hard look. ‘Or have you already forgotten Cain’s instructions?’

  Mistral’s face fell, ‘You can’t make me miss out on this! It’ll be the best thing that’s happened in the Valley for ages!’

  ‘You won’t miss out, I promise.’

  Mistral gave him dubious look, ‘Really?’

  ‘Of course not! How can I ever hope to win without you cheering me on?’

  ‘I don’t believe it!’ Mistral cried. ‘You’re entering, but you won’t let me?’

  ‘I’m not carrying our child.’ Fabian pointed out reasonably.

  ‘More’s the pity.’ Mistral slumped back against him in defeat. ‘I suppose this means you’ll be leaving me to go jaunting across the Isle then?’

  ‘I won’t be leaving you Mistral, just earning us three hundred gold coins. And I have yet to compete, never mind win.’

  Seeing her despondent expression Phantasm smiled, ‘You can stay here with us Mistral. I’m sure we’ll be outridden before the first event is over. Some of those warriors ride like they were born in the saddle.’

  ‘Like I can you mean.’ Mistral muttered moodily.

  ‘Well, yes. But let’s face it. If you won this Contract on top of having already taken the Ten Year Cull and the Unicorn Contract, I think you’d actually be so unpopular that you’d no longer get served in The Cloak.’

  ‘Like that’d make a difference to me at the moment!’

  The twins regarded her sour face.

  ‘I know you’ve missed her, but perhaps we should rethink that invite if she’s going to have a face like that.’ Phantom whispered quickly.

  Fabian looked at Mistral, ‘Actually, that brings me around to something I wished to discuss with you, alone –’

  The twins immediately took the hint and rose to their feet, muttering something about cooking dinner.

  Mistral sat up and looked at Fabian, ‘Why are you thinking about the village?’

  ‘Because I want to show you a house I’ve rented for us, just while you are pregnant.’

  ‘But I love our home! I don’t want to live anywhere else!’

  Fabian smiled and reached up to smooth the creases from her brow, ‘We will still live at home, this would just be somewhere convenient to stay when it’s too late to travel.’

  ‘Here is convenient.’ Mistral protested, indicating to the twins’ snug house.

  ‘Allow me to clarify. Convenient and private.’

  Mistral’s mouth formed a silent “oh” then she grinned, ‘Show me the house then,’ she leaned back against him to listen to his thoughts. ‘I like the view of the forests from the small bedroom,’ she said dreamily and stared unseeingly into the fire.

  Fabian smiled and shifted his thoughts to another of the rooms, until he had shown her all of the small house.

  ‘It’s not home, but it’ll do, I suppose,’ she eventually sighed.

  ‘Good, now I wasn’t sure how long to take the lease for, so I have agreed to a year –’

  ‘A year! I damned well hope I’m not going to be pregnant for a year!’

  ‘Centaurs carry for eleven months Mistral.’

  Mistral had nothing to say in response to that horrifying piece of news and instantly cast around for a new topic of conversation, ‘Tell me about the tournament.’

  ‘Yes, please do!’ Phantom called eagerly, abandoning the pretence of not listening in on their conversation. He walked through from the kitchen with two goblets of wine in his hand and passed one to Fabian. Ignoring Mistral’s efforts to take the other, he took a long sip and sank back down into the armchair by the fire.

  ‘The full details will be displayed on notices around the village, and of course, in The Cloak and Dagger, by the end of the week.’

  ‘So it’s not going out through the Agents then?’

  Fabian shook his head.

  ‘Clever.’ Phantasm lifted his eyebrows approvingly. ‘No Agent cut to come off the value, makes the Contract even more desirable.’

  ‘Does it really.’ Mistral muttered grumpily.

  ‘Who will be presiding over the event?’ Phantasm asked. ‘Master Sphinx can’t be seen to be awarding his own Contract to the successful warriors; it would just look like favouritism. Surely he can’t be considering asking Mage Grapple?’

  Fabian shook his head lightly, ‘No to both.’

  ‘Who then?’ Phantom mused. ‘No-one would give credence to anything that Master Casterton awarded, even if he is the acting Divinus. Master Shacklock maybe? But he doesn’t really hold a prestigious enough position in the Ri for the job … that only leaves Master Nox, but he’s not exactly famous for his ability to ride horses; eat them maybe – ’

  ‘Brother!’

  ‘Sorry Mistral, I forgot, if it’s not got tusks and hooves you won’t touch it these days.’

  Mistral pulled a face at him then looked up at Fabian expectantly, ‘Did he say yes?’

  Fabian nodded, ‘He said that he would be honoured.’

  ‘Not this again!’ Phantom complained. ‘Who? If you don’t mind sharing!’


  ‘Imperato of course,’ said Mistral in a voice that suggested it was painfully obvious.

  ‘Of course, who else would command awe and respect from the warriors? Their shooting ability at The Festival of The Arcane was talked about in The Cloak for months. I have to say that Master Sphinx really has soared in my estimations.’ Phantasm confessed. ‘He has a profound understanding of the way that warriors think.’

  ‘That’s because he is one.’ Fabian said quietly.

  Mistral yawned and settled herself more comfortably against Fabian’s shoulder. He looked down at her sleepy expression and sighed. ‘We should leave, it’s getting late and I may have found us a house but there’s no food in it yet –’

  ‘Forgive me my manners, please stay for dinner.’ Phantasm quickly offered.

  Mistral yawned again, ‘Thanks but we’ll go to The Cloak.’

  ‘The Cloak? How could you choose the tavern over here?’ Phantom gave Mistral a hurt look. ‘I’ve even cooked boar pie for you!’

  ‘Cheap trick.’ Mistral sighed and tilted her head back to look up at Fabian. ‘They want us to stay because they’re hoping you want me to read either Etienne or Pierre this evening and they want to eavesdrop.’

  Fabian’s expression was instantly guilty, ‘Ah. Well –’

  ‘Great.’ Mistral heaved a sigh and sat up. ‘Well if I am going to have to suffer those two you can at least let me have a drink.’

  ‘Certainly. Water or water?’ Phantasm offered politely.

  ‘Neither thanks!’ Mistral snapped back. ‘If it’s not got a frothy head on it then I’m not reading so much as the time!’

  Fabian sighed and stood up; pulling her upright he took her by the hand and led her over to the table, already laid out with four places. A half tankard of ale sat beside one of the settings.

  ‘Call yourself a Seer?’ Phantom teased, sliding onto one of the chairs while his brother served portions of steaming pie onto their plates.

  Mistral’s response was mercifully lost in a mouthful of pie.

  They ate and talked about the Council meeting due to take place in the Valley later that week. Mistral listened with half an ear while she concentrated on clearing her plate then going on to take seconds, and then thirds, earning amazed glances from the twins. When she eventually pushed her plate away with a satisfied sigh, Fabian politely enquired if she would like any more.

  Mistral eyed the nearly empty pie dish before finally shaking her head, ‘No, I think I’m full, well for the moment anyway.’

  ‘Good!’ Phantom leapt to his feet and rushed around to pointedly pull her chair back for her. ‘I suppose you would be more comfortable reading the Rochfortes from the sofa?’

  With a martyred air Mistral allowed herself to be hauled over to the sofa while Phantom scurried around, and plumping the cushions and fussing over her.

  ‘Comfy enough? Like some water? Do you want to lie down? Actually, best not to, you might fall asleep –’

  Mistral gave Fabian a weary glance but he merely smiled and walked over to stand in front of the fire. The twins quickly resumed their places in the armchairs and Mistral was suddenly faced with an audience watching her from the across the room.

  ‘Oh, there’s nothing like the pressure to perform,’ she muttered under her breath, adding more clearly. ‘Who first?’

  ‘Pierre.’ Fabian replied before either of the twins could respond.

  Mistral nodded and closed her eyes. Drawing in a deep breath she pushed the pleasant feelings of being full and warm out of her mind and called up the weather-beaten features of the old Mage, concentrating on his toothless smile rather than the bitter hatred behind his eyes. The memory was so recent that with almost no effort at all his laughing face appeared in her mind. She studied the watery blue eyes and red-veined face carefully, looking for any resemblance to the cold haughtiness of Etienne ... the shape of his brow, the curve of his nose ... any slight similarity she and Fabian may have overlooked that would have indicated the relationship between the two. But apart from the blue eyes, any features they may once have shared had been eradicated by time. Channelling her attention to focus purely on his eyes, Mistral looked into them, to look through them, to See –

  The atmosphere in the room tightened. Three sets of eyes watched intently as a blank look stole across her face. She frowned vaguely then continued to gaze mistily at nothing.

  The seconds lengthened into minutes but still Mistral did not speak. The room filled with a growing feeling of suspense that gradually became unbearable. Phantom was tapping his foot anxiously and chewing his fingernails, by contrast Phantasm was completely motionless, staring at Mistral with almost painful intensity. Fabian was regarding her with a look of concern on his face.

  ‘What do you See Mistral?’ He finally asked in a worried voice.

  She smiled dreamily in response to his question, ‘I See … nothing … but I feel ... peace –’

  ‘Damn it!’

  Fabian immediately strode across the room and knelt beside her. Taking both of her hands in his he began to speak to her in a low voice, calling her back, telling her about the life they led together, the child they were expecting.

  The twins shared a perplexed look but did not intervene.

  Fabian continued to talk to Mistral but he could have been speaking to a block of stone. She gazed unseeingly into the middle distance with a look of bliss on her face. Fabian abruptly took her face in his hands and kissed her fiercely. She gave a loud gasp and blinked, gazing into his eyes in confusion.

  ‘How do you feel?’ he asked quickly.

  Her eyes slid out of focus again and Fabian immediately called her name sharply. She frowned irritably. ‘What?’

  ‘Stay with me Mistral, look at me, see me –’

  His words pricked a memory in Mistral’s mind. She had said those very same words to her dying brother.

  Dying ...

  ... Dead.

  ‘Pierre’s dead isn’t he?’ she said quietly.

  Fabian nodded then frowned, ‘I knew that one day you would read someone that had already passed, the Divinus told me what to do when that happened. He said it was a dangerously beguiling experience, I think it was what led to his obsession with necromancy.’

  ‘It’s –’ Mistral shook her head wonderingly and searched for a word to describe what she had experienced. ‘Glorious.’

  She fell silent for a moment, the crackling of the fire and Prospero’s gentle snoring the only sounds to break the stillness in the room. The twins were contemplating her with odd looks on their faces, somewhere between fascination and fear. The lure of the unknown.

  ‘Is that why you were telling me all about our life?’ Mistral asked suddenly.

  ‘I was trying to give you reasons to come back.’

  ‘I could barely hear you.’ Mistral’s voice dropped to an awed whisper. ‘You were like a voice in a dream, and what I was feeling was the reality, not you.’ She shivered and looked at him, her expression suddenly fearful. ‘Would I have come back if you hadn’t made me?’

  ‘Eventually.’ Fabian’s expression was guarded.

  ‘Eventually?’

  ‘The Divinus described spending days at a time in death trances, but he said that he always returned.’

  ‘How come he didn’t die of thirst?’ Mistral asked with a burst of morbid curiosity.

  ‘The body shuts down, like hibernation. It’s just the mind that holds the connection.’

  Mistral stared at him silently for a moment then shook her head, ‘I can’t believe that anything would have the power to take me away from you. But I would have stayed there! It was –’

  ‘Heaven,’ said Phantasm quietly.

  Mistral gave him a startled look, ‘Not my idea of heaven brother, I assure you!’

  ‘No roast boar I take it?’ Phantom quipped and Mistral laughed.

  The tension in the room suddenly lifted. Mistral drew in a deep breath and became business-like again. ‘One down
, one to go –’

  Closing her eyes she called up the less pleasant memory of Etienne’s face, forcing her mind to recall every detail with absolute clarity; the fair hair swept back from a wide forehead, the narrow, aristocratic nose, the disdainful set of his mouth. Mistral could see him so clearly that it made her lip curl with hatred. Focussing solely on the piercing blue eyes, she felt the unsettling sensation of tumbling helplessly head over heels, down into the icy cold pools of his eyes.

  This time Fabian remained by her side, holding her hands and watching her face intently, ready to pull her from her trance at the slightest indication that Etienne was also dead.

  ‘I See … Etienne … he is cold ... oh! So cold … it is dark –’

  Mistral frowned and repeated some disjointed words in French. Fabian didn’t react but the twins shared a horrified look. Mistral fell silent and gazed into nothingness with a slightly puzzled look on her face.

  ‘Come back Mistral.’ Fabian urged her gently. ‘Come away –’

  The sound of his voice drew her from her trance. She blinked and looked at him in confusion. ‘I don’t understand where he was. I’m not sure he did either.’

  Fabian’s expression was impenetrable, ‘Tell me what you Saw.’

  Mistral stared off into space while she recalled her vision, ‘It was dark, so dark! Etienne … he was confused … he wasn’t thinking in sentences, just really odd disconnected words, but there was no emotion in them. It was almost like he was empty. Oh!’ Her face cleared and she looked almost pleased with herself. ‘There was one word he kept thinking! Oubliette I think it was.’

  The twins stirred uncomfortably and Mistral glanced at them, ‘What does it mean?’ she asked, turning back to Fabian with a frown.

  ‘To forget.’

  ‘And it’s a place, a dungeon to be precise.’ Phantasm continued in a flat voice. ‘The only way in or out is through a hatch set in the ceiling. The prisoner is thrown down and left to go insane and eventually die.’

  Mistral stared at him in horror, ‘Why not just kill him?’

  ‘It’s a form of torture.’ Fabian explained quietly. ‘And this time it was intended to be inflicted on you too. I am glad that you didn’t read him any earlier or you may have entered his mind when he was still raving. At least he is calm now; close to the end.’