Mage Grapple entered last of all, sweeping down the marble steps to assume his seat on the wooden chair placed on the floor of the Council chamber. He sat down to a resounding silence and leaned one elbow onto his knee, his cold grey stare raking the full chamber before he addressed them all in a ringing voice.
‘We gather tonight to decide the future Divinus of the Ritualis.’
Mistral blinked in surprise, she had never heard the Ri called by its full name before.
‘The Divinus. A position of untold responsibility and power. Councillors … you must be honestly convinced of your decision before placing your vote tonight.’
Mistral felt her eyebrow lift involuntarily at the unmistakable infliction in Mage Grapple’s voice when he pronounced the word “honestly”. Where was the honesty tonight? Apart from her, each of the Ri had entered the Council chambers with concealed daggers, and half of the Mages present had been bribed to vote for Malachi. Honesty was a rare commodity at the Council on a normal day, but it was definitely absent tonight.
‘We will hear the petition of Leopold Sphinx first.’
Leo rose soundlessly to his feet and looked slowly around the chamber, ‘I shall endeavour to provide the Ri with the necessary leaderships skills required to lead us forward into a brighter future and further strengthen existing bonds with the Mage Council; for the mutual benefit of the richly diverse lives of all who call the Isle a home –’
Mistral suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and concentrated instead on the matter in hand, namely who had accepted Malachi’s coin in return for a favourable vote and who had not. Resisting the temptation to read the whole chamber at once and save herself the mundane task that lay ahead, Mistral forced herself to be methodical and decided to read each Councillor in turn. She felt Fabian’s hand take hers as her eyes slid out of focus, her mind reaching out for the first red-faced Councillor seated on the far left of the uppermost tier, as they had agreed.
By the third Councillor Mistral felt her earlier resolve of professionalism slipping away. They were all drunk and thinking about anything other than the importance of the matter at stake. Did the Ri mean nothing to them? Over-privileged … pompous … arrogant … she felt angry resentment growing with every mind she read. Most were more concerned with how quickly they could get to the vote then return to the banquet before it finished, not the future leader of the Ri.
Come on Mistral! Which party are the top tier going to vote for?
Mistral heard Phantasm’s urgent thought and clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to snap back that most of them were voting for a party, not a Divinus, she quickly signalled right with her eyes ... Malachi’s gold had weaved it’s magic on that particular bunch of inebriated imbeciles.
‘And now we shall hear the case to be the Divinus from Malachi Nox.’
Mage Grapple’s steely voice cut through her angry thoughts, drawing her attention back to the unnaturally bright chamber and Malachi, now upright and gazing around importantly.
‘I am not unknown to many of you.’ Malachi began with a knowing lift of his eyebrows. ‘The Council has relied upon my skill and discretion on innumerable occasions. I have no need to prove my sincere dedication to the continued safe existence of the haven we inhabit; it has been done, countless times –’
So he’s killed a few loud-mouthed Mages! Lucky him!
Mistral kept her face wooden while Phantom’s thoughts echoed precisely her own sentiments.
‘I have no concealed agenda –’
Liar!
Bare-faced cheek!
Mistral could only silently agree with her brother’s thoughts and try to control her own urge to stand up and loudly denounce Malachi for the lying, conniving, blood-sucking megalomaniac that he was.
‘Only a desire to lead the Ri in accordance with the Council’s wishes; knowing that they have both our, and the vested interests of the Isle, at their heart. As do I.’
Oh please! He doesn’t have a heart!
Lying son of a –
The rage that filled Mistral was insuppressible. She leapt to her feet, her eyes blazing with an anger that challenged the glare of the enchanted sun hanging in the air above them. ‘You lie!’
Her furious declamation reverberated around the chamber, drawing theatrical gasps of shock from any Councillors sober enough to react and disdainful sneers from Malachi and Christophe.
‘Ah, but of course, the Seer would protest.’ Malachi countered softly. ‘For she is bound to, quite literally I assure you.’ His scathing gaze swept the room, finally coming to rest on Leo. ‘The Seer is tied to the would-be Divinus, Leo Sphinx, to be his creature in return for the apprenticeship she has served. Can you bring yourselves to trust such power in the hands of one person?’
A low grumble is dissent met his cold words. Mistral ignored the stares she was receiving and glared furiously at Malachi. ‘It is the way of the Ri! Training incurs costs that must be paid for!’
‘Ah, but you have bartered, have you not? An entire year beholden solely to his will, expending your rare and powerful gift in any way he sees fit, instead of two spent serving the Ri?’
Mistral’s eyes remained locked on Malachi’s; her own filled with unspeakable loathing, ‘So what if I have? It’s my life to barter!’
‘Precisely my argument.’ Malachi sneered. ‘How can we trust a Divinus who has at his beck and call three of the most gifted individuals on the Isle? He already has the Gemini beholden to the Ri for two years to pay back their apprenticeship and now he has the Seer … who has somehow managed to beguile him into reducing her own servitude to just one year –’
Mistral ground her teeth at the barely concealed suggestion that she’d somehow persuaded Leo to give her special treatment … that she was sly, devious … no better than Golden …
‘Tread with care Malachi.’
Fabian’s quietly spoken words were more chilling than any shouted threat. He had risen to his feet to stand beside Mistral, his arm curled protectively around her while his black stare bored into Malachi’s.
‘Ah, the Mage De Winter.’ Malachi smiled contemptuously. ‘How you so revere the brotherhood of the Ri, yet shun your own blood! How can we ever believe the word of such a singularly confused individual? You are a Mage, yet you deny your right. You are Ri, yet blatantly cannot be so by your blood … what, I wonder, are you?’
‘Irrelevant.’
Christophe’s condescending announcement echoed across the chamber as he rose to his feet and gazed arrogantly at Fabian.
Mistral sucked in a sharp breath but was prevented from hurling a stream of abuse at his supercilious face by the smallest amount of pressure on her hand by Fabian.
‘Irrelevant?’ Leo stood up to lock stares with Christophe, his own icy blue eyes challenging the coldness of the Rochforte’s gaze. ‘I think not. Fabian is a De Winter, the last surviving member of one of the most revered and powerful sorcering families in Mage history –’
‘The last?’ Christophe interrupted in a dangerously soft voice.
Mistral’s grip on Fabian’s hand tightened reflexively as she listened to the triumphant laughter in Christophe’s mind … he knew … somehow he knew …
‘Leopold Sphinx, the abandoned Mage baby raised by the Ri. Oh, such a tragic tale! Yet what Mage would willingly surrender their child to such a fate? He was no shameful half-breed, but a full-blooded Mage! Why would anyone seek to conceal the true nature of his parentage in the seclusion of the Valley?’ Christophe let the question hang in the air while he slowly turned to survey the chamber. ‘Or was he the product of a liaison so illicit that the truth of his parentage could never be revealed?’
A confused silence fell, Mistral stared in horror at Christophe while the half-drunk Councillors shared shrugs and blank looks. Turning her head to look at Fabian, Mistral felt a wave of shock break over her. Why had she never seen it before?
Leo and Fabian. They were two sides of the same coin. The blonde hair and blue eyes of Leo w
ere mere distractions from the canvas of his face, the exact replica of her Mage. The high cheekbones and sculptured features accentuated by the fact that tonight they were both clean shaven and dressed identically. Seeing them stood side by side in the bright chamber, the likeness was undeniable. Both were tall and possessed of a lean, sinewy strength. A fierce pride resonated from every fibre of their being ... the dark and the light, yet both borne of the same essence.
The silence lengthened. A few puzzled murmurs broke out amongst the Councillors too drunk to make the connection Christophe alluded to. Mistral glanced distractedly at Mage Grapple, expecting him to call the chamber to order only to see him staring frozenly at the two brothers. His thoughts drenched her mind in a rush of disbelief and shock, swiftly changing to perform a series of rapid calculations before coming to the inevitable conclusion. The truth. Leo was the son he believed dead.
Neither Fabian nor Leo had reacted to Christophe’s veiled suggestion. Both were utterly motionless, staring at him with an icy intensity. Their immobile states belied the speed with which their minds were working. Both were poised ready to reach for the daggers concealed in their boots and silence Christophe before he could reveal the secret that would jeopardise everything. In the growing rumble of noise from the confused Councillors, Mistral stared at Christophe and forced herself to concentrate on hearing only his thoughts, to See how he could possibly know the truth that had been buried for decades.
Ah, of course … Mistral’s hazy eyes narrowed slightly. Golden. She had been jealous of the closeness between Leo and Fabian and had confessed as much to Etienne when he questioned her on everything she had seen or heard during her time in the Valley. It had been he that had suspected the true nature of Leo’s parentage and shared his thoughts with his cousin, Christophe. And now he, Christophe, was presented with irrefutable proof of their shared blood in the revealing brilliance of the Council chamber.
But …
Mistral smiled, her eyes sliding sharply back into focus to meet the glacial stare of Christophe Rochforte across the white room. He could not expose the truth to the Council. Unlike the Ri, they would not be mistrustful of Leo’s bloodline, but more disposed to elect the son of Mage Grapple as the next Divinus. The dangerous secret that Fabian and Leo had kept for so many years was suddenly their salvation.
Her smile widened to become a grin, openly taunting Christophe, letting him know that she had Seen the flaw in his plan. She slipped her hand from Fabian’s and stepped out onto the marble floor, walking slowly to the centre to stand directly beneath the burning orb of light. There she paused. Indifferent to the tense silence that fell across the chamber, she bowed her head and rested both hands over the swell of her unborn child, letting the tendrils of Sight unravel and fly out, attaching themselves to every mind in the room until she felt the tentacles touch the cool marble walls. She looked up, her smile one of sublime power. The attention and thought of every living soul in the chamber was hers.
A ringing silence fell while every eye fixed upon Mistral, motionless in the centre of the chamber, resplendent beneath dazzling rays of light that danced across her pale skin, illuminating every faint silvery scar and turning her dark hair to a shimmering aura of black. Her son stirred restlessly, drawing her focus away from the profusion of thoughts that inundated her mind to listen only to him. She smiled in wonder. He knew so much already! His power would be beyond anything the Isle had ever seen. He was ... unique. Malachi had thought to abduct him? She almost laughed at the absurdity of the notion. In a series of blinding revelations Mistral Saw her son, tall and dark like his father, and so handsome. He would be no vulnerable newborn, but the size of a six year old Mage child at the end of just one year ... fully mature by three. She tilted her head and listened to him for a moment longer then nodded, understanding what his gift would enable her to do whilst he existed within her.
Drawing in a deep sigh she lifted her head and held her hands out in an invitation, ‘Join me brothers.’
Wordlessly the twins slipped from their seats and ghosted to stand on either side, taking her hands in theirs.
‘See with me.’
The entire chamber seemed to hold its breath while Mistral’s blank gaze stared into nothingness.
‘Ah –’ Phantom’s eyes slid out of focus and a blissful sigh left his lips. ‘I See.’
‘We See …
… you all …’
They spoke as one in a sibilant whisper, the Gemini and the Seer.
The Trinity.
‘Cheap theatrics and parlour tricks!’ Malachi’s angry shout broke the spellbound silence. ‘Will you permit the Ri to be ruled by the whim of a temperamental female and her enslaved Gemini?’
‘It is time to set sail Malachi.’
At the triple murmur Malachi abruptly stopped speaking and made a gagging sound, pressing a hand urgently to his mouth he sank to his seat with a groan.
‘Oh, très malin … yes, that is very clever.’ Christophe rose to his feet, clapping his hands together quietly. ‘However I think this just proves our case does it not? Your would-be Divinus cannot control you. I wonder, who is it that actually holds the strings of power in the Valley of the Ri? Is it Leo Sphinx, or is it you three? Can we ever trust such a combination of gifts?’ He narrowed his eyes angrily. ‘I think not. I think you should be divided. The Seer sent to the Council to work for the good of the Isle, and the Gemini left to perform their circus tricks for the amusement of your Valley of half-breeds.’
‘That is not a decision for you to make!’
Leo had left his seat to stride out across the floor and stand before Mistral and the twins. Fabian instantly moved to mirror his position and protect their exposed backs.
‘Really?’ Christophe raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at Mage Grapple, who had neither moved nor spoken since making the startling discovery of his son’s existence. ‘I rather think that there is a sudden void of power in this room, and I intend to fill it with the rightful name of Rochforte! Too long has there been an unworthy leader at the head of the Isle! The dethronement of Mage Grapple is overdue! I will unite the Valley and the Council and rule them both! It is time for change!’
His ringing shout reverberated around the stunned room but Mage Grapple remained frozen, the deep shock he was in rendering him incapable of responding to Christophe Rochforte’s declaration of intent to seize control of the Isle. Neither of his warlocks stirred. Their sole purpose was to obey his will, and he was currently powerless to command his own thoughts let alone instruct the creatures that served him. Deep within their trancelike state, the twins and Mistral knew the protective spell he had cast over them was no longer effective, but it didn’t matter. They were the Trinity. All Seeing, and all controlling. Nothing could harm them.
The door to the chamber suddenly burst open, eliciting cries of surprise from the startled Councillors. The rest of the Rochfortes rushed past the motionless warlocks and spread out along the top tier of the chamber.
‘What of our plans!’
Released from the power of the twins’ gift, Malachi had risen to his feet and was staring in white-faced fury at Christophe.
‘They have changed, my bloodthirsty friend.’ Christophe replied coldly. ‘And you have suddenly become surplus to my requirements.’
The air around Christophe suddenly shifted and pulsed. A wave of power exploded out from him, lifting Malachi from his feet and slamming him against the back wall of the chamber. His head smashed into the marble with a sickening crack that made Mistral wince. In the shocked silence that followed Malachi remained pinned against the wall, held there by an unseen force until Christophe casually flicked his hand downwards and Malachi slid to the floor, leaving a slick of crimson blood on the gleaming white marble.
Malachi crumpled soundlessly, his malevolent black stare fixed on Christophe while his lips moved faintly, framing words he had no breath to speak.
Christophe laughed softly, ‘What is it Malachi? I can see yo
u are dying to tell me something.’
‘He is swearing vengeance on you for your duplicity … his death will bring the wrath of the Isle’s vampire tribe upon you … the rule of Rochforte will be plagued by unrest … the Ri will never accept your command … they will rise up against you with the power of the Gemini and the Seer and the gifted child within … but … ah … he is gone ...’
Christophe turned slowly to regard the twins and Mistral while they spoke as one. Beneath the brutal light of the enchanted sun the twins’ white-blonde hair and alabaster skin radiated an ethereal glow, making them look more like guardian angels than ever flanking the white-clad figure of Mistral, full of the life that would challenge him; the gifted son and heir to the powerful De Winter name.
‘It is a pity,’ he sighed. ‘I could have achieved so much with you three at my side. But I see now that you are ungovernable. I regret that your lives must also end to allow a new era to begin, free of the taint of your kind.’
A sudden breeze moved through the chamber, ruffling the sheer material of Mistral’s dress and dispelling the odour of ozone left by Christophe’s spell. It swirled around the back wall of the chamber then abruptly vanished, leaving the Councillors staring at each other in bewilderment; there was no signature scent of ozone – it had not been a spell.
‘More tricks!’ Christophe snarled and raised a hand high in the air. ‘But you are defenceless against the might of the Rochfortes! We cast as one!’
The air above the Rochfortes immediately thickened and began to shimmer with the power of the spell they conjured, their shared blood giving them strength beyond that of any Mage in the chamber. The hot reek of ozone charged the air once again and the whole chamber began to shudder under the growing force of the spell. Standing motionless beneath the shaking cupola, Fabian and Leo’s murmured words were hidden in the violent rattling of glass panes.
The Seer Page 87