The Seer

by Kirsten Jones

  ‘Yes, I know.’ Mistral interrupted impatiently. ‘Start on the top tier, work from left to right, and let the twins know who is for and against. But how will I let them know if I can’t signal? I’m never going to be able to remember every Councillor’s name and whether they were going to vote for Leo or not!’

  ‘Patience Mistral.’ Fabian smiled softly. ‘I’m not suggesting that you have to memorise their names and intentions until you leave the chamber. I am suggesting that that you read an entire tier, surmise the outcome then look left to signal that the majority intend to vote in favour of Leo, or look right to indicate that they are in Malachi’s pocket.’

  Mistral nodded thoughtfully, ‘There are four tiers, seating … how many did you say?’

  ‘Fifty Councillors, not including Mage Grapple, who will be seated at the front.’

  ‘Right, well, reading four tiers instead of fifty Councillors certainly makes my job a lot easier, but it’s still a lot of work for the twins – they’ll have to memorise where each Councillor is sitting to be able to make sense of my readings and influence the correct ones!’

  ‘That’s easy Mistral, we already know where each Councillor will be sitting.’ Phantom said, looking slightly smug.

  ‘Done the seating plans for Mage Grapple have you?’ Mistral snapped, irritated by his supercilious tone.

  ‘Councillors have designated seats attached to the role they fulfil.’ Fabian explained. ‘They never change and are passed on to the next incumbent when a Councillor retires, hence Vilius De’ath now sits where Putreo once did.’

  ‘Oh right.’ Mistral nodded and ignored Phantom’s conceited smile. ‘So I read a tier and a time then either look left for Leo or right for Malachi. That’s easy enough … or I could just read the whole chamber at once and give you an overall idea of how the voting will go?’

  ‘Show-off.’ Phantom muttered and Mistral couldn’t resist giving him a smirk.

  ‘Hang on.’ Mistral suddenly frowned mid-smirk. ‘You’re still going to need to know the individual decisions of each councillor aren’t you? Or else how’ll you know who to influence?’

  ‘We’ll work it out Mistral.’ Phantasm said. ‘Look –’ He drew a folded piece of parchment from his saddlebag and spread it out on the ground.

  Mistral leaned over to see a semi-circular drawing with four corresponding arcs inside; the Council chamber. The name of each of the fifty Councillors had been painstakingly recorded along the tiers, indicating where each sat and what role they fulfilled. Mistral read a few of the names and instantly recognised the handwriting as being Phantasm’s distinctive flowing script.

  ‘You drew this?’ She frowned at him. ‘Why?’

  He smiled faintly, not lifting his eyes off the parchment, ‘Sometimes we take our work home with us.’

  Mistral instantly felt Fabian’s displeasure. He strongly disagreed with using the twins’ gift to influence any decisions, never mind Council ones. Mistral guessed that had been done at Leo’s request. She couldn’t feel disappointed with the twins for agreeing to Leo’s demands; they could hardly refuse since they owed him their apprenticeships and, just like her, were bound to him until the debt was paid. Curious to know how Leo felt about having his underhand behaviour exposed, she opened her mind a little while she bent over the parchment, letting Leo’s thoughts shower her mind like icy drops of rain. They were typically cold, focussed purely on the forthcoming vote. He felt neither guilt nor shame at having his interference in Council matters exposed; for him the ends justified the means. Mistral had to say that in this instance she agreed with him ... Malachi was hardly abiding by the rules either.

  ‘So, even if Mage Grapple insists on you waiting in a separate room to us while the vote is being held, we’ll still know the overall decision of each tier. Using this plan we can work out fairly accurately who’ll have been susceptible to Malachi’s bribe and influence enough numbers to ensure a slight, but definite win.’

  ‘Should it come to that.’ Fabian said quietly, his disapproval apparent in the hard set of his mouth.

  ‘Oh, I agree with you Mage De Winter.’ Phantasm nodded. ‘To have Master Sphinx confirmed as the Ri’s Divinus through merit alone is how it should be. However, we would be deluding ourselves if we were not prepared for this vote to be a celebration of corruption and bribery.’

  ‘Tell me something brother.’ Mistral murmured while she scanned the names written on the parchment. ‘Have you ever tried to influence more than one person at a time?’

  The twins shared a surprised look.

  ‘Well, no,’ Phantasm admitted. ‘We’ve always worked on strengthening our power of influence over the recipient, and range of course – remote influence is a formidable tool, but I don’t think we’ve ever considered attempting to increase the coverage –’

  ‘How about you have a go at increasing the coverage right now?’ Mistral cut across him impatiently. ‘It would certainly make tonight a whole lot easier!’

  ‘While we ride, if you please.’ Leo ordered curtly. ‘It is time we left. Phantasm, do you have my speech drafted out?’

  Phantasm nodded and passed Leo a thick roll of parchment which he immediately unrolled and began to read.

  ‘Er, Master Sphinx?’

  Leo did not look up from his speech, ‘What is it Phantasm?’

  ‘Would you have any objections to us attempting to influence you and Mage De Winter whilst we ride? Only our gift is ineffective on Mistral.’

  ‘Is it?’ Leo looked up with a sharp frown.

  Phantasm nodded, keeping his face carefully neutral, ‘The Sight protects her mind from outside influence.’

  Or there’s actually nothing in there to influence …

  Mistral pulled a face at Phantom but quickly turned back to watch Leo’s expression with secret amusement. His frown deepened until it was nothing short of a scowl. She could feel his unwillingness to be the recipient of the twins’ gift battling with his innate ambitiousness. If the twins were able to influence multiple minds the possibilities were suddenly endless; entire battles could be won without a drop of blood being shed and, on a less dramatic note, contentious meetings controlled and the issues resolved without the usual pointless arguing.

  ‘I have no objections.’ Fabian said quietly. ‘However, I would like to know what suggestion you intend to plant in my mind, so that I am prepared for any sudden unusual thoughts.’

  Phantom grinned but quickly changed it to a thoughtful nod when Mistral threw him a warning glare.

  ‘Something simple!’ Leo snapped.

  ‘Having a drink of water.’ Mistral suggested quickly before Phantom could voice one of the ridiculous ideas that kept popping into his mind.

  ‘That sounds perfectly acceptable.’ Fabian said mildly and turned to look questioningly at his brother. ‘Do you agree Leo?’

  Leo’s face was expressionless but his thoughts were furious. He gave a curt nod and abruptly stood up. ‘It is time we left.’

  Mistral gazed around distractedly while she rolled up her Wolverine skin. The bleak landscape depressed her, even in the bloom of late summer it was still too barren, too exposed. She missed the forests and yearned to be back there again, riding beneath the dark tangle of branches where the sunlight rarely reached. Sighing dispiritedly, she wandered over to join the twins while they prepared the horses for the final day’s ride into the city. Bending her inflexible body awkwardly to tighten Cirrus’ girth, Mistral stood back up again to see Phantasm watching her closely.

  ‘What?’ she frowned. ‘Is my hair a mess or something?’

  ‘Always,’ he smiled. ‘I was more concerned with what you were thinking about.’

  ‘Only the forests,’ she replied, her eyes sliding out of focus to gaze unseeingly over his shoulder.

  ‘That’s what I was worried about,’ he murmured and swung himself into the saddle.

  Fabian appeared at her shoulder, dragging her attention back to the depressing fact that she could no lon
ger mount her own horse unaided.

  ‘Ready?’ He enquired softly.

  ‘This is so degrading,’ she muttered while he helped her up into the saddle. ‘I swear, Fabian De Winter, that once your son is born I am going hunting every day for a whole damned year!’

  ‘Of course you can Mistral.’

  ‘Don’t try and appease me Fabian!’ Mistral snapped, pulling Cirrus’ head round and kicking him sharply into a canter. ‘I swear I will!’

  Fabian watched her ride away for a moment then turned and walked back to untether Spirit. Swinging quickly into the saddle, he pulled Spirit around to find Phantasm riding by his side.

  ‘She’s growing restless.’

  Fabian’s face hardened, he immediately kicked Spirit into a gallop to chase after the dark haired figure cantering away from him.

  In accordance with Fabian’s wishes, the travel had been light and the ride into the city would only take them the morning. The twins rode in silence behind Fabian and Leo, their faces joint masks of concentration while they worked their gift. Although Fabian and Leo both seemed unusually thirsty and drank frequently from their waterskins, it was never at the same time.

  ‘This could grow wearisome.’ Fabian muttered, calling a brief halt due to the amount of water the twins had influenced him to drink.

  ‘Now you know how I feel.’ Mistral sighed and dismounted for the same reason.

  They halted again at midday on the rise that afforded them the familiar, but still impressive view of the Northern Range. Cradled in the wide valley at the mountain foot lay the capital of the Isle. Mistral gazed down at the sprawling city and noticed new houses being built right up against the inside of surrounding the stone wall, giving the city the impression of bursting at the seams with the wall now constraining, rather than protecting the occupants. From the height of the rise Mistral could make out ant-like figures teeming through the complicated network of streets. The first time Mistral had seen the city she’d been reminded of a spider’s web, the streets forming the finely spun threads spreading out from the gleaming white building in the centre; the Council. Sunlight reflected off the huge glass cupola in the roof of the Council meeting chamber – the room where the future of the Ri would be decided that very evening. She stared down at the city below. Her first impression still held, only now the Council building nestling in the centre was like a vast bloated spider, greedily waiting to devour the next unsuspecting victim to be caught in its web.

  Which won’t be us! Mistral vowed silently. She had no misconceptions about how they would be received at the Council. Most Mages looked down upon the Ri, viewing them as Craftless half-breeds, only fit to thieve and kill for money. And, if the Ri were a brotherhood of thieves and assassins, then who could blame them? What other choice did they have? Mage rule was absolute. For them equality with the Arcane races was an inconceivable concept. Even the conspicuously impartial Mage Grapple had made the mistake of assuming the twins’ gift was similar in nature to the Craft, severely underestimating its power in the process … an oversight that might just save the Ri’s future.

  Mistral’s attention was caught by a strange double movement from behind her. She turned to see Fabian and Leo both reaching for their waterskins at precisely the same moment. In perfect harmony they both uncorked their skins and lifted them to their mouths. Swallowing simultaneously, they corked their skins and placed them down again, all without glancing once at what the other was doing.

  ‘What?’ Fabian asked, bemused by Mistral’s sudden outburst of laughter.

  ‘They’ve done it!’

  ‘Thank heavens for that.’ Fabian sighed with relief. ‘I have developed a lot of sympathy for your condition over the course of this morning.’

  Leo merely scowled and strode off towards the privacy of an outcrop of rocks.

  The twins waited until Leo had gone before they grinned at each other.

  ‘I knew we could do it!’

  ‘Ah, excellent! We can influence the Councillors in pairs, halving the time and the risk of discovery all in one fell swoop!’

  ‘Hmm, two is a good start, but we should try and include Mistral now –’

  ‘Er, no thanks, anyway, I’d hardly be a challenge would I?’ Mistral said quickly and cast a longing glance at the outcrop of rocks. ‘Oh thank goodness for that!’

  Leo had returned and Mistral immediately hurried off towards the rocks.

  By midday Leo was once again leading them through the imposing city gates of the Council stronghold. They passed by the silent warlocks and were instantly immersed into the chaos of the city’s market. Forced to ride slowly and in single file by the sheer volume of people, Mistral followed Fabian and let her eyes wander over stalls crammed along either side of the street. Bright striped awnings threw shade over wooden tables laden with everything from long rolls of garish silk to used cooking pots; all being enthusiastically hailed as “the finest” and “the best in the city” by the stall holders, even those selling the same goods as their neighbours. In the harsh glare of sunlight the displays looked depressingly tawdry. They passed by a stall selling wooden toys, most were poorly made and some were even broken. The stall next door was hung with rails of gaudy dresses cut in vulgar styles. A pack of stray dogs ran between the horses, startling Cirrus and making Prospero growl. It was all so unbearably loud; the bawdy shouts of stallholders vying with each other, the noisy banter of the customers and the constant barking of the stray dogs all seemed to blend in together and press in on Mistral. Her breathing quickened with the wave of claustrophobic panic that washed over her. In an attempt to repress the irrational fear she called up an image of a crisp autumn morning in the forests, of cantering through a carpet of fallen leaves lit by sunlight spilling through half-bare branches. Calmed by the picture in her mind, Mistral began to take notice of her surroundings again only to wish she’d stayed inside her vision.

  They had ridden further along the market street and were now passing by rows of meat stalls hung with fly-covered sides of beef and the ghoulish heads of pigs. The overpowering stench of raw meat immediately made Mistral’s stomach churn. Pressing a hand to her mouth she rammed her heels into Cirrus’ sweating sides. Ignoring the shouted curses of the people scattering before Cirrus’ heavy hooves, Mistral urged him on into a canter, desperate to reach the cool, clean air of the Council avenue.

  Fabian caught her up at the gates, his concerned expression turning to one of understanding when he saw the paleness of her face, ‘Nearly there,’ he murmured soothingly.

  Mistral didn’t know if he meant the end of the journey of the end of her pregnancy, and she didn’t care, she felt too sick to even listen to his thoughts.

  By the time Leo and the twins arrived she was feeling better. The twins gave her a sympathetic look but didn’t comment on her sudden dash from the market street. When the warlocks opened the gates to allow them to pass through, Leo took the lead once again to ride at a sedate walk along the wide avenue of houses. It was blissfully tranquil after the noise of the market. Mistral glanced down the long avenue of impressive houses, her eyes irresistibly drawn to the crumbling relic near the end of the row; the De Winter mansion. Riding alongside her, Fabian noticed her suddenly hollow-eyed stare and frowned.

  ‘Maybe I should have said something sooner.’

  She tore her gaze away from the derelict building and looked at him.

  ‘It’s been sold. I hope you have no objections.’

  ‘Objections?’ She lifted an eyebrow. ‘Of course I don’t! But who in their right mind would want to buy it?’

  ‘Eximius.’

  ‘But he’s got a huge house already! Why does he need two?’

  Fabian gazed broodingly at the grey shell, ‘He has his reasons.’

  Mistral looked at the house that had once been home to Mage Grapple’s lover, and the place where she had died giving birth to his son; a decaying monument to his pain and loss that he saw daily and now owned.

  ‘And here we
are,’ announced Leo in a satisfied voice. He dismounted at the end of the avenue and passed his reins wordlessly to Phantom.

  ‘Which is the house the Council use for hospitality?’ Mistral asked, easing herself slowly from the saddle and rubbing her aching back.

  ‘That one.’ Phantasm said quietly, pointing to a non-descript, typically tall and narrow house on their right. ‘But you’re not going there.’

  ‘No?’ She groaned. ‘It’s not Mage Grapple’s is it?’

  ‘Worse.’

  Mistral frowned at him for a moment then her face dropped, ‘Please tell me you haven’t!’

  ‘She would never forgive us if we didn’t, sorry.’ Phantom shrugged apologetically and was saved from the blistering anger he could see on Mistral’s face by Fabian.

  He pulled her gently towards the familiar courtyard containing two bored looking lions, issuing instructions over his shoulder for Prospero to be kept out of trouble.

  ‘Don’t worry! We’ll look after Prospero! Give our mother our love!’ Phantom called brightly, grinning at the savage murder Mistral was promising him with her eyes.

  ‘Melsina is expecting us.’ Fabian murmured while he dragged her up the flag stone path.

  ‘Of course she is! Damn the twins! Damn their gift! And damn mine for not warning me! I should’ve known they’d pull a stunt like this!’ She fumed, still casting death stares over her shoulder at the waving twins. ‘I can’t believe they’re not coming too! Where are they staying then?’

  ‘The Council’s hospitality house.’

  ‘That’s not fair! Oh Fabian, I’m exhausted! I just want a bath and a rest before tonight, please don’t put me through this!’ She begged desperately while he knocked on the door.

  ‘The meeting isn’t until later on tonight. You have plenty of time for a bath and a rest,’ he said softly, not quite meeting her eyes.

  ‘I don’t believe it! You’re afraid of her aren’t you?’ She hissed furiously.