The Seer

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The Seer Page 73

by Kirsten Jones


  ‘That was Gemma.’ Phantom said loftily.

  ‘No! Really? The Gemma from that poem? She’s real?’ Cain exclaimed.

  ‘Alive and well, and ripping off unsuspecting customers at the Brintor horse fair.’ Mistral said, leaning back on her chair and resting a hand contentedly over her full belly.

  ‘Come on Mistral, you paid a fair price for your son’s pony and you know it!’ Phantasm chided her.

  ‘You bought him a pony?’ Xerxes looked crestfallen. ‘I was going to buy him one!’

  ‘So was Samson, apparently.’ Phantasm mused. ‘Which is annoying really because we’d already asked the Equus to keep an eye out for a good pony for him, something with mountain blood, sturdy and reliable –’

  ‘No! No! Mountain ponies are all very well but terribly slow! What he’s going to need is something with desert blood in it, or maybe Emerald Forest –’

  Mistral gave Fabian an “I told you so” look and he laughed. Their son was clearly going to be spoiled stupid by his army of uncles.

  The debate of what type of pony would be best for the as yet unborn nephew of the five warriors gathered around the table ran on until Mistral yawned and began to cast longing looks at the sofa.

  ‘Oh no! Don’t you dare fall asleep!’ Phantom cried, leaping from his chair and moving swiftly around the table to stand over her. ‘You promised to read Malachi! I need to know what’s going on!’

  ‘I’ll do it tomorrow.’ Mistral promised with a weary sigh.

  ‘You’d better, because we’ve got an important meeting tomorrow and an update is essential if we’re going to make an effective counter-plan.’ Phantasm reminded her with a Leo-ish look on his face.

  ‘Whatever you say brother.’

  Mistral took Fabian’s hand to be led towards the door and out into the balmy summer night.

  ‘D’you reckon Samson’ll stuff it up this time too?’ She asked sleepily from beneath the arm he placed around her.

  ‘I do hope not.’ Fabian said. ‘Second chances are even rarer than first ones, I should know.’

  ‘Oh, I’m no second chance Fabian. You were always going to be with me; you just had to wait around for a while until I arrived.’ Mistral tilted her head to smile up at him and promptly stumbled on the uneven cobbles.

  Swinging her up into his arms with a sigh, Fabian looked at her, his dark eyes so black beneath the grey moonlight that there seemed to be almost no white surrounding them at all, ‘I would wait for an entire lifetime if I knew I was going to find you at the end of it.’

  ‘Less of the end bit please.’ Mistral murmured sleepily. ‘Ours is just beginning.’

  A storm brewed up during the night, stilling the air in their bedroom to a sultry heaviness. Mistral tossed and turned in her sleep, disturbed by nightmares of a white-skinned vampire that crouched in the shadowy corner of their room and stared at her with glowing red eyes.

  ‘You will pay for what you have done to my tribe!’ the vampire hissed and raised a long finger to point at her. ‘Your blood will flow Seer! The child you carry will never be born!’

  Mistral moaned in her sleep and threw off the tangle of sheets to let what little air there was cool the sweat from her skin. The red-eyed vampire of her dream laughed and backed away into the deeper shadows until she could no longer see its pale body, only hear its cold laughter mocking her.

  ‘I want the Seer!’

  The laughter changed to speak in curt tones. Mistral twisted her head around in her sleep but couldn’t see the speaker, only hear his voice.

  ‘Don’t we all?’

  A drawling voice she didn’t recognise spoke, she turned her head blindly towards the sound and a face shimmered into her mind, the features distorted and unclear, like something seen through running water. She frowned, her eyes moving rapidly beneath her eyelids as she tried to See more clearly. Then her eyebrows lifted in recognition of the fair hair carefully swept back from a high forehead and the blue eyes that were staring at her with lazy disdain. The almost girlish lips were curved up in a cruel smile while a long-fingered hand, soft and unused to work, toyed idly with the blonde hair of the woman sat on a chair slightly lower than his. Mistral frowned in her sleep; she knew that hair … then the woman turned to look at the speaker with an expression of naked jealousy.

  Golden! She was Seeing Christophe Rochforte and Golden through Malachi’s eyes.

  ‘Run along now mon D’or, Malachi and I have business to discuss that does not concern you.’

  Mistral saw resentment flash in Golden’s eyes at being dismissed like a child, but she left without saying a word.

  Christophe yawned pointedly, showing off perfectly even white teeth, ‘And just why do you insist of having this conversation in the middle of the night Malachi? It may be the way of your kind, but I assure you I prefer to be in bed at such an hour.’

  Mistral felt Malachi’s anger at Christophe’s jibe but he kept his temper and began to pace the floor in long sweeping strides, ‘The Seer will be asleep now; it is safe to talk.’

  ‘She can hear your thoughts?’ Christophe’s voice was suddenly sharp.

  Malachi paused in his pacing to sneer at Christophe, ‘She can hear all our thoughts. But not when she is asleep.’

  ‘And how do you know this?’

  ‘It is how I evaded her gift to plan the uprising with Bellicose.’

  ‘Evaded? I think not. Your plan failed! She must have heard you!’

  ‘She heard Bellicose not me!’ Malachi snapped. ‘He made the error of believing that his blood gave him immunity from her gift! A mistake I will not be making! If our plans are to succeed we must be careful with our thoughts.’

  ‘Our plans … our thoughts?’ Christophe gave Malachi a sceptical look. ‘You and I have no plans Malachi! It was you that came crawling to me, destitute and begging for help –’

  Malachi’s face twisted furiously, ‘Beg? I am not a dog Christophe! And far from destitute! I have gold!’

  ‘Good.’ Christophe gave a satisfied smirk. ‘Because the name of Rochforte does not come cheap, if at all.’

  ‘Everyone has a price.’ Malachi snarled. ‘And you are no different! Name your price Mage! It shall be met!’

  Christophe stretched his legs out lazily in front of him and yawned rudely, ‘Later, right now I would like to hear how these grand plans of yours can further our cause.’

  Thunder rumbled in the distance, heavy and ominous. A sudden flash of lightening illuminated the dark bedroom, showing Fabian looking anxiously into Mistral’s unblinking stare while she Saw not the storm gathering above the Valley, but a cool mountain night hundreds of miles away.

  ‘I can give you the Ri.’

  ‘What do I want with a Valley of degenerate half-breeds?’ Christophe demanded disdainfully.

  ‘Do not underestimate the Ri! They are highly skilled warriors in need of a leader!’

  ‘They have a newly elected leader, who is not you, Malachi! I fail to see how you have any influence over the Ri now!’

  Malachi’s lip curled, ‘The election was won by one vote!’

  Christophe suddenly sat up straight, ‘One vote?’

  Malachi nodded and remained silent while Christophe’s expression became calculating. Mistral could feel Malachi’s tension and knew that all of his plans hinged on Christophe’s next words.

  ‘I did not realise it had been so close! This changes everything.’

  Hiding a triumphant smile, Malachi bowed his head and resumed his pacing, ‘We must act swiftly! We must instruct your supporters in the Council to refute the upstart’s claim to be the next Divinus in favour of me! In view of the closeness of the vote Mage Grapple cannot deny that I have a valid case! With the help of a few coins in some well-placed palms I shall easily be officially approved as the next Divinus!’

  Christophe frowned sharply and held up a hand to silence Malachi, ‘You are getting ahead of yourself there, my bloodthirsty friend! You speak too much of “we” for my liki
ng! You have yet to give me reason to support your efforts!’

  ‘I’ve told you!’ Malachi hissed. ‘I can give you the Ri!’

  ‘I have no use for half-breeds!’ Christophe snapped dismissively.

  Malachi gave him a contemptuous look, ‘Yet you share your bed with one.’

  ‘Some serve a purpose.’ Christophe shrugged. ‘You, however, have yet to prove yours to me. Tell me why you expect me to offer you the backing of the Rochfortes at the Council?’

  ‘I can give you the Seer.’

  Christophe was suddenly still, but his face wore a greedy look that he quickly fought to conceal, ‘And just how can you achieve that?’ he asked in a deliberately casual tone.

  Deep within her trance-like state, Mistral felt Malachi’s fierce burst of victory. Christophe was unaware of her condition and how the baby she would have could be used to control her.

  ‘You expect me to provide you with such valuable information and offer nothing in return?’ Malachi jeered.

  Christophe’s eyes narrowed to slits, his expression showing plainly the loathing he felt for Malachi, ‘You dare to try and bribe the head of the tribe of Rochforte?’

  ‘No, there is no bribery here. This is business, pure and simple. I am offering something you desire, and in return you will provide me with what I want.’

  Christophe continued to regard Malachi suspiciously, ‘Tell me what you want, but speak plainly! I am done with your riddles, vampire!’

  ‘I want to be the next Divinus.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I want the power!’

  Mistral instantly knew he was lying. His ambitions went far beyond just assuming control of the Ri, however Christophe appeared satisfied with his explanation and gave him a cold smile.

  ‘Ah, good old-fashioned lust for power. Now, that I understand.’ Rising to his feet, Christophe stretched and yawned again. ‘I think we can do business after all. Give me the Seer and I shall give you support at the Council –’

  In a deafening crack of thunder the storm broke over the Valley. Raindrops large as hailstones fell from the heavy purple sky, bouncing off the cobbles and hammering against the window panes with a force that threatened to break the glass. Lightening split the blackness, filling the bedroom with lurid flashes of light, jerking Mistral from her trance with a startled cry.

  Fabian’s hands were instantly on her shoulders, his dark eyes seeking hers while he murmured softly to her, ‘I’m here, you’re safe Mistral, see me.’

  She stared wildly at him until the sound of his voice pierced through her confusion, quelling her panic, ‘Oh Fabian! I dreamt, no – I Saw –’

  ‘I heard everything.’ Fabian hushed her. ‘Be still now, just breathe Mistral, everything is fine.’

  Nodding mutely, Mistral closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his chest, listening to his voice murmuring to her while her breathing slowed from rapid shallow gasps to a more controlled rhythm. She stayed there, listening to his soothing voice and the quieter beat of his heart until she was finally able to lift her head and meet his gaze calmly.

  ‘Malachi has sought out Christophe Rochforte for his tribe’s assistance … in return for – for –’

  ‘I know. I heard it all. You do not have to go through that again.’ His dark eyes held hers with a deep and commanding power. ‘Rest now Mistral, sleep. I am here –’

  Mistral’s eyes were already closing as he pulled her against his body, wrapping his arms around her to rest his hands protectively over the taught skin of her belly and the child that stirred restlessly beneath his touch. She drifted back into a deep dreamless sleep, lulled by the soft sound of his voice.

  ‘– no-one will hurt either of you, I swear it … I will protect you –’

  By morning the storm had abated to a steady fine rain. A low mist hung over the Valley, shrouding the mountains from view and giving the wet cobbled streets a closed in feel that muffled the booted steps of the cloaked figure hurrying through them. He ran lightly up a set rain-washed stone steps to knock quietly on the polished wooden door at the top.

  ‘Mage De Winter! Come in!’ Phantasm stepped back to allow Fabian to enter and closed the door behind him with a frown. ‘Where is Mistral?’

  ‘Asleep.’ Fabian pulled off his damp cloak and dropped it over the arm of the chair beside the fire.

  ‘Asleep? But we need to know what Malachi has planned before our meeting!’

  ‘Already done.’ Fabian said shortly.

  Phantasm sank down onto the sofa and looked at Fabian expectantly.

  ‘Mistral read Malachi last night … in her sleep –’

  ‘What? You mean she fell asleep whilst trying to read him?’ Phantom asked with a laugh.

  ‘No.’ Fabian’s face was expressionless. ‘She was asleep when her mind connected with his.’

  Phantom’s lips formed a silent ‘oh’ and Phantasm raised his eyebrows.

  ‘The Sight is protecting her; forewarning her of events that threaten her.’ Fabian continued.

  Phantom gave Fabian an awed look, ‘Her gift has increased in power so much in the last few months! I don’t understand how either, it’s not like she even bothers to work at it!’

  ‘It’s because of her pregnancy. Her whole body is focussed on growing the life within her. The Sight is a part of Mistral too; it’s not possible for it not to respond to the changes in her.’

  Phantasm nodded thoughtfully, ‘When she returned from the Desert Lands and fell ill, her gift suffered. It makes sense that now her body’s sole purpose is growth, then her gift will grow too.’

  Phantom gave a shudder, ‘It’s a bit parasitical isn’t it?’

  ‘No. It reminds me of how the Craft behaves.’ Phantasm responded.

  Fabian gave a tense nod, ‘The similarities had not escaped my notice either. They are two powers that are inextricably linked to the vessels they exist within.’

  ‘What did she See?’ Phantom asked.

  Fabian’s face abruptly suffused with anger, ‘Malachi has aligned himself with the Rochfortes. He has offered Mistral in return for their support in his efforts to be the next Divinus. Rochforte supporters at the Council will refute Leo’s claim to be the next Divinus and put forward Malachi’s name in his stead. Unfortunately, in view of the closeness of the vote, Eximius will have no choice but to take them seriously.’

  ‘Will there be another vote in the Valley?’ Phantom asked.

  Fabian shook his head, ‘Leo will be summoned to the Council to present his case alongside Malachi. There will be a debate, followed by a vote.’

  ‘A corrupt vote.’ Phantasm’s face hardened with anger. ‘Malachi is rich! He can probably afford to bribe every single Councillor if he needs to!’

  ‘What vote at the Council isn’t corrupt brother?’ Phantom argued. ‘But what I don’t get is how Malachi expects to be able to offer Mistral up like some kind of gift wrapped parcel! He’s no longer in the Magnate, and if he ever showed his face around here again he’d be shot on sight by half the warriors in the Valley!’

  Fabian smiled coldly, ‘That information is Malachi’s trump card, and also ours.’

  The twins looked at him blankly.

  ‘Christophe Rochforte is unaware that Mistral is pregnant. Pierre must have died from his wounds before Christophe reached the farmhouse. Mercifully, the knowledge that Mistral is carrying a child died with him. Malachi does not intend to abduct Mistral; he intends to abduct my son and use his life to force her into doing what he wishes.’

  A brief silence fell while the twins absorbed the information. Phantasm abruptly leapt to his feet and began to pace the floor agitatedly. ‘I fail to see how the knowledge that Malachi plans to kidnap your son can be our trump card!’

  ‘Because it means that the Rochfortes are ignorant of her condition, and for now, she is safe from them.’ Fabian replied quietly.

  ‘But not from Malachi!’ Phantasm reminded him sharply.

  ‘Ah, but there we have
the upper hand again.’ Fabian’s smile was cold. ‘Malachi believes that Mistral cannot read him when she is asleep.’

  ‘But she can!’ Phantasm abruptly stopped pacing and spun round to stare at Fabian. ‘Sight is behaving just like the Craft and protecting the vessel it lives within! Malachi can’t even think threateningly thoughts about Mistral without Sight making her aware of it, whether she’s awake or asleep!’

  Phantom grimaced, ‘I wouldn’t thank you for her dreams for the next few months.’

  Fabian’s face darkened, ‘Which is precisely why I saw fit to leave her asleep this morning. Last night was draining for her. And that brings me to the second reason I have disturbed you at such an early hour. I must go and appraise Leo of events now; could I ask that you wake Mistral and ensure she is escorted safely to the meeting?’

  ‘Of course Mage De Winter.’ Phantasm glided over to the door and held it open for Fabian while he pulled on his cloak.

  ‘She’s going to love that!’ Phantom muttered once the door had closed behind Fabian. ‘A night spent reading the charming Malachi then you waking her up armed with a hairbrush!’

  ‘If it stops her from turning up to this meeting looking like a scarecrow then I can cope with the tantrum she’ll throw.’

  Phantom laughed ruefully. ‘Do you remember a nice quiet time in our lives before Mistral exploded into it like some kind of natural disaster?’

  Phantasm smiled and bent to pick up his saddlebag, ‘You can’t fight destiny brother.’

  ‘Oh please don’t tell me that you believe it’s our destiny to spend our lives rescuing her!’

  ‘Not rescuing.’ Phantasm corrected. ‘Protecting.’

  ‘That’s worse! That means we have to get involved right at the dangerous bit!’

  Phantasm placed his saddlebag down onto the kitchen table and opened it, pulling out a folded shirt he looked at his brother thoughtfully, ‘Have you ever wondered how much of a coincidence it is that we arrived at the Ri the same year as Mistral?’

  ‘Not really.’ Phantom frowned. ‘And I’d call it bad luck, not coincidence.’

 

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