The Seer

by Kirsten Jones

  They circled high above the gorge while Mistral loaded her crossbow. The sun had risen higher in the sky and appeared in frequent bursts from behind scudding grey clouds to transform the queen’s scales to dazzling gold. Mistral was blinded by each sudden blaze and forced to pause until the sun vanished behind a cloud again. The queen circled patiently, the instinctive bond between them needing no instruction; not that Mistral would even have begun to know how to control a creature the size of a small house. She finished loading her crossbow and snapped back the lock. It was time to hunt.

  The queen immediately dropped into a steep dive and Mistral’s eyes widened, her euphoric grin frozen in place by the sheer force of the air roaring past her. The tangle of white and dark figures on the gorge floor came hurtling up to meet her with startling speed until the queen suddenly levelled out and swooped around in a wide circle above the battle. Mistral hastily wiped her streaming eyes and fired at the nearest vampire, laughing wildly at the shocked look on Cain’s face when she soared past on the back of the dragon queen. The queen arced up into the air and circled again while Mistral reloaded, accelerating into a headlong dive the moment she heard the lock snap back, then pulling up sharply and cruising over the fight to allow Mistral to pick off another vampire.

  Not to be denied her tithe, the queen’s fiercesome jaws put pay to any vampires foolish enough not to cower in fear when she flew past. Their terrified shrieks and the repeated snap of the queen’s jaws were almost as satisfying to Mistral as the sound of her own crossbow firing. She gave a shout of laughter when the vampires suddenly abandoned the fight and fled, running before the avenging queen to be shot down by crossbow bolts or snatched up and devoured whole. Turning sideways to sweep along the narrow gorge, the queen overtook them and lashed out with her tail, knocking them to the ground. The warriors were upon them in moments, making short work with their swords. Circling in the air above them Mistral watched the twins converge on the last vampire, its dying scream split the air in a piercing shriek, then it was over.

  Laying a hand against the golden scales of the queen’s neck, Mistral sighed. It was time for her wild ride to end too. Flying gracefully down to the western end of the gorge away from the warriors, the queen landed and sunk close to the ground to allow Mistral to climb down. Mistral slid down from the queen’s back and turned to look into her bronze eyes and smiled. Phantasm was right, love did take many forms. The queen held her gaze for a moment then gave a single quavering note of dragon song and thrust herself upwards in the air. With a strange sense of loss, Mistral watched the glorious creature climb up into the sky and disappear from her sight.

  Fabian ...

  His named tugged at her mind, dragging her back to reality. Turning around, Mistral began to run towards the warriors and let her mind divide; experiencing the same painless ripping sensation to See through his eyes and her own simultaneously.

  His breath came in ragged gasps; he had been running hard. She felt his anger and disappointment. He had not caught his quarry.

  Mistral pulled her mind back into her own, looking up to meet the blood-spattered faces of the twins. Phantom was staring at her in awestruck silence but Phantasm’s expression was urgent. ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘Never better.’

  He closed his eyes briefly, then grabbed her arm and pulled her into a run back towards the eastern end. ‘I’ve got Cain’s spare kit. He needs your help.’

  Mistral looked over at the fallen bodies they were running towards, ‘Who?’ She demanded breathlessly.

  ‘Brutus.’

  Mistral swore and forced her legs to run faster, letting Phantasm lead her to where Brutus was sprawled out. Xerxes was knelt by his head, a stricken expression on his face.

  ‘Move Xerxes, you’re in my way!’

  Mistral roughly elbowed him aside and looked down at the deathly still face of her brother. A flap of skin the size of her hand hung down over his face, chalk-white beneath a crimson slick of blood. She knelt down and slipped a hand inside his shirt and felt the beat of his heart. It was weak, but regular. Wordlessly taking the kit pressed into her hands by Phantasm, she unrolled it and pulled out a needle and thread.

  ‘What’re you doing?’ Xerxes asked in a choked voice.

  ‘Stitching him up Xerxes.’ Mistral responded shortly. ‘Unless you prefer his new look –’

  ‘He … he’s not dead then?’

  ‘No Xerxes.’ Mistral snapped. ‘For some strange reason, possibly due to the fact that half his scalp has been ripped away, he’s passed out. Now please shut up, and do stop crying. It’s shattering your manly reputation.’ Mistral held a needle up to the light to thread it while Phantasm cleaned the wound and pressed the skin back into place.

  Xerxes continued to stare his brother, tears running down his face, ‘I – I thought I was going to have to tell our mother that her good son had died.’

  Holding the threaded needle carefully, Mistral turned to look at him, ‘Diannah has two good sons Xerxes. Now, if you’re going to insist on hanging around, hold this, and pass me the iodine when I’ve finished.’

  She worked in silence, stitching the skin neatly back together. Brutus’ long hair would hide the scar. She hoped for his sake that her brother didn’t go bald in later life, he was inordinately proud of having an unscarred face. Subdued voices spoke around her. She could hear Cain issuing instructions while he worked on one of the other warriors. She glanced over to see three warriors stretched out on the ground and her heart dropped. Samson’s body was one of them.

  Turning back to Brutus she quickly daubed the stitched wound with iodine then stood up, speaking rapidly to Xerxes while she rolled the pouch up, ‘Watch him closely. Make him drink water when he comes round.’

  Leaving Xerxes with Brutus, Mistral hurried over to Samson. Dropping down beside his still body, she quickly assessed his condition. His eyes were closed and his skin was clammy beneath her touch, but his chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. She could see a lot of congealed blood surrounded a gaping wound visible through his torn shirt.

  ‘Samson? It’s Mistral. Can you hear me?’

  Samson groaned faintly in response.

  Mistral unbuttoned his jerkin and carefully pulled back the blood-soaked shirt to reveal a deep circular wound in his shoulder; a vampire bite, ‘I’m going to stitch you up Samson; it might hurt a bit.’

  Samson’s lips twitched into a faint smile, ‘Make it neat … would hate … uneven scar to ruin my collection –’

  Mistral smiled and reached out for the medical kit, ‘I’ll do my best not to mar your perfection, but I can’t promise anything.’

  She knew he was there before the sound of his soft footfalls reached her ears. She turned her head slowly, her parched eyes drinking in the dark figure walking towards her. No words could express how she felt at the sight of her blooded Mage striding towards. He held her gaze as he approached, their eyes sharing a language of their own. Samson gave another low groan, reminding Mistral that she had a job to do.

  There was no time for reunions or recriminations, the warriors bleeding their last on the cold ground demanded every minute of her time. The sun peaked and began to dip into the western sky while she and Cain worked, speaking only to request assistance. Each of her brothers had been wounded in some way but it was Silas, one Samson’s friends, who had sustained the worst injuries. A heavy silence crept over the watching warriors until the only words being spoken were by Cain, quietly urging him to cling to life while Mistral worked.

  ‘Stay with me Silas … stay with me –’

  Mistral paused from the wound she was stitching to check Silas’ pulse. The beat was faint, and before her finger had left his skin it had faded away to nothing. ‘He’s gone Cain.’

  Mistral’s softly spoken announcement was met with a long drawn out sigh from Samson. He walked over slowly to kneel down beside his brother’s head, pressing his hand down over the half-open eyes to close them for the last time.

&n
bsp; ‘Farewell my friend.’

  They had done all they could. Rolling up her kit Mistral looked up to meet Fabian’s eyes. There was no grief in them at the loss of a brother’s life, only the poignancy of a life expended. The unresolved regrets and unrealised desires of the body growing cold on the ground at her feet only served to fuel the fire within her. Who knew how much time they had? It could be mere days, or an entire lifetime. She vowed to seize each second and live it as though it were her last. No longer would she fight against her destiny but embrace both it and the joy it had bought her, standing before her now, gazing back with eyes of blackest velvet.

  Fabian.

  He reached out to touch her cheek. She closed her eyes and savoured the caress, lifting her hand to hold it against her skin before opening her eyes to gaze at him and breathe words no-one else could hear. Fabian’s smile was as soft as the sigh that escaped his lips, slipping his hand into hers he pulled her away from the gorge filled with dead vampires. By unspoken agreement they left their brother’s body on the gorge floor; there was no wood to build a funeral pyre and the rock could not be dug, even by Grendel. His bones would be left to bleach beneath the sun and snows of the passing seasons.

  Returning to the camp they lit a fire and settled in for the night. The wind had dropped, leaving the night sky clouded and moonless. They gathered around the fire and shared a meal, too exhausted to talk much until the food and wine revived their spirits. Mistral curled up beneath Fabian’s arm, wanting nothing more than the touch of his body against hers and to hear the silken sound of his voice, whispering words meant for her alone. A loud clang made her jump. Lifting her head from Fabian’s shoulder she saw that Samson had flung his iron collar into the fire, the mangled circlet of metal glowed in the hot embers.

  ‘Damned uncomfortable,’ he declared, rubbing his neck. ‘But it probably saved my life a few times today.’

  ‘Ah, no Samson, that was me,’ said Xerxes with a grin, his usual brashness restored by the presence of his older brother by his side.

  ‘Actually, I think it was Mistral.’ Samson turned to stare at her through the flames of the campfire. ‘And I think it’s high time we heard just how you managed to call up the dragon queen, leap on her back and ride around the gorge like she was a damned hobby horse!’

  ‘Later.’ Mistral laid her head back onto Fabian’s shoulder and closed her eyes, unwilling to even attempt to explain her experience. When the silence lengthened she was forced to open her eyes and was instantly trapped by the twins’ duel stares. She sighed wearily. There would be no sidestepping this one.

  ‘Come on Mistral, it’s time to hold the stage!’ Samson grinned and swept his arm across his body in a mock bow.

  She looked up at Fabian for help but he was gazing at her with a thoughtful expression, he couldn’t comprehend her mysterious connection with the queen either. Drawing in a deep breath Mistral turned to stare into the fire, it was easier than meeting any of her brothers’ curious looks. ‘Well, let’s start from the beginning. Obviously you know that Bellicose got wind of our presence, quite literally. The easterly wind blew our scent straight to the tribe. It was the older members that noticed, they were always hungry – I don’t think Bellicose ever brought much back for them from his hunting trips – anyway, they alerted Bellicose to our presence and he magnanimously agreed to allow them to enter the gorge first.’ Mistral paused and shrugged. ‘You know what happened next, Bellicose turned up once we’d wiped out an entire generation of his tribe in the hope that they’d weakened us enough for his vampires to finish us.’

  ‘Bet it was you they smelt Grendel.’ Cain muttered to the half-troll who growled menacingly back.

  ‘The vampire tribe was far larger than we thought!’ Xerxes exclaimed. ‘Lucky they didn’t all attack at once, or we’d be dining in Elysium tonight!’

  ‘Bellicose has been blatantly lying about the tribes numbers for years!’ Phantom muttered angrily. ‘There were easily sixteen elders in that gorge today, and Bellicose’s little army numbered at eighteen ... although it was hard to say for sure, since most of the evidence has been eaten by Mistral’s new ride!’

  Mistral didn’t smile at his joke but continued to stare into the fire, recalling her relief at the queen’s arrival; her winged salvation, ‘I didn’t call her, if that’s what you’re thinking. I think she must have smelt my scent on the wind mixed with the reek of the vampires and spilt blood, and she came to investigate.’

  Samson frowned at her, ‘But what I don’t understand is why? Why would the dragon queen even be the slightest bit interested in you, or us? Apart from to eat of course –’

  ‘The origins of dragons are lost to the mists of time.’ Fabian interrupted quietly. ‘They truly are relics of another era, and little can ever be known about them or the purpose they serve. In Mistral the queen recognises another mystical being; a Seer. The bond they have is indefinable and,’ he paused and glanced at Mistral, ‘incomprehensible. But what is certain is that the queen would do anything to protect her.’

  ‘And for that brothers … sister … I raise my goblet, or rather my wineskin.’ Samson grinned and lifted his gourd of wine up in a toast to Mistral.

  ‘But what of Malachi, Mistral?’ Phantasm asked.

  Mistral raised her eyebrows briefly. He had not referred to Malachi as “Master Nox”, signifying that he no longer held any respect for the disgraced ex-Magnate member. She shrugged and opened her hands out in a helpless gesture. ‘He was gone the moment the queen arrived. Fabian chased after him –’

  Fabian took over from her, speaking in a hard voice, ‘He fled before I could slit his lying throat.’

  ‘Damn, I’ve never seen you climb so fast brother!’ Samson laughed. ‘As soon as you’d laid waste to that pair of leeches trying to bite through your collar you were up that cliff like you had wings!’

  ‘Ah, talking of wings, what was it like to ride a dragon Mistral?’ Xerxes asked enviously.

  A slow grin spread over her face. She was reliving the wild rush of diving through the air on the back of a creature more fearsome and magnificent than any other on the Isle. ‘Good –’

  ‘Good?’ Xerxes snorted incredulously. ‘Good describes the weather, or a meal! Not marauding around on the back of a dragon!’

  They all laughed and Mistral joined in but Fabian remained silent. His hand reached for hers, holding it tightly, his look of concern making her sigh, knowing what was coming.

  ‘Ready Mistral?’

  ‘Yes Cain,’ she sighed heavily and rose to her feet, following him into the cave.

  ‘Oh, Mistral?’

  Mistral turned back to look at Samson, he was holding something in his hand. ‘Yours I believe –’ He tossed the object to her, it spun hilt over tip, glinting in the firelight.

  ‘My butterfly knife!’ she gasped joyously and reached out to catch it by the hilt, eliciting another round of laughter.

  ‘That was one hell of a good throw you made with that today.’ Samson said gruffly. ‘Took out the leech chewing on my shoulder – I owe you one.’

  Mistral nodded and quickly turned to follow Cain before her face could betray her guilt.

  By the time the embers of the fire had burned down to a red glow the warriors had settled into their Wolverine skins for the night. Only Mistral and Fabian were still awake, sharing a murmured conversation.

  ‘Do you want me to read Malachi? I had a good look in his mind today, I think I might have broken through whatever barrier he was putting up against me.’

  Fabian shook his head and gently kissed the side of her neck, ‘Not tonight. Tomorrow maybe, if you are feeling rested enough.’

  The warmth of his words against her throat reminded her of Bellicose’s hot breath making her shudder involuntarily.

  Fabian caught her reaction and his arms tightened around her protectively, ‘I will kill Malachi for what he put you through today.’

  ‘Malachi actually stopped Bellicose from killing me today,�
�� she admitted quietly. ‘Well, held him off for a bit anyway. Then the queen arrived and, er, ate him.’

  ‘Please, don’t remind me of my failure to protect you today.’ Fabian muttered tensely.

  She twisted in his arms to look up at him. The moon glimpsed out from behind the bank of clouds revealing the face she loved, his eyes gleaming with a dark anguish. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry Fabian!’ Mistral began, her face crumpling at the sight of his pain.

  ‘For which part?’ He asked, one corner of his mouth lifting into a wintry smile. ‘For twice thwarting my attempts to keep you safe? Or for nearly giving me a heart attack when you were left alone on a ledge with a vampire, only to leap onto the back of a dragon and fly away before I could reach you?’