The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams)

by Kirsten Jones

  ‘Did you notice the way Golden was looking at Master Sphinx in training today,’ whispered Phantasm with a knowing look on his face.

  ‘Hmm,’ agreed his brother with a smirk. ‘Do you think she wants to be teacher’s special pet?’ Phantom dropped a wink in Mistral’s direction, trying to make her smile.

  His attempts fell on stony ground. Although she tried to appear interested in their conversation by nodding occasionally, she couldn’t muster up the energy to join in and was relieved when the plates of food arrived, giving the twins had something else to concentrate on. She pushed the food around her plate disinterestedly. The break in the twins’ chatter allowed other sounds to reach her ears, talk and laughter drifted to her. In particular a loud, irritating giggle that kept erupting from a table opposite where they were sitting. The twins noticed it too and shot surreptitious glances over their shoulders.

  ‘Golden’s really working it tonight,’ muttered Phantom disdainfully, returning his attention to his food just in time to catch his brother in the process of stealing a sausage.

  The twins bickered with each other, hunching protectively over their food like a pair of schoolchildren, giving Mistral a clear view of Golden’s back across the room. She was playing with her long blonde hair while she chatted animatedly, repeatedly running her fingers through its silky length, swinging it over her shoulder to let it fall in rippling waves. Mistral watched without any real interest and wondered dully whether Fabian would have noticed her if she had behaved like that.

  Fabian.

  She barely winced at the familiar stab of pain his name caused her and sighed, watching Golden for a while longer. She moved like a willow in a summer breeze, lithe and supple. There was a certain fluidity to her ceaseless writhing that was almost hypnotic. When Golden leaned seductively across the table to whisper something Mistral suddenly saw who she was flirting with and froze, locking eyes with the forceful black stare of Fabian De Winter.

  A second, a single heartbeat, a lifetime passed while Mistral stared motionlessly back into that compelling, burning stare before her heart, for so long a dead weight inside her chest, lurched violently into life.

  Golden sat back and threw back her head to let out a peal of laughter, blocking Mistral’s view once again. She blinked, suddenly released from the spellbinding eye contact. Her heart was pounding frantically. She could hear the blood pumping behind her eardrums, deafening her. Adrenalin coursed through her trembling body, filling her with the panicky urge to escape the suddenly claustrophobic room. Leaping wildly to her feet she knocked her stool over in her haste to leave. The twins instantly looked up in surprise, totally oblivious to what had just happened.

  ‘Sorry, got to go–’ Mistral forced the words out, her voice unnaturally high and strained.

  She shoved past the twins and stumbled towards the door, disorientated by shock. Ignoring the grunts and complaints of the people she barged into, she forced her way across the room. Finally reaching the door, she wrenched it open and stumbled outside.

  The cold night air hit her like a slap in the face and she gasped, reeling while she tried to control the panic flooding through her. Staggering a few steps to lean shakily against the stone wall of The Cloak and Dagger, Mistral closed her eyes and forced a lungful of freezing air into her chest. She drew in a second breath and could taste the metallic hint of snow on her tongue. With the third breath her shock had eased enough to allow her mind to function again, and her first thought was fear.

  She was frightened by how forcefully she had reacted to seeing him again. But then maybe that was it, she hadn’t expected to see Fabian De Winter again, ever. She had resigned herself to that fact, even come to terms with the shadowy existence that had become her life since realising the depth of her hopeless feelings for him.

  And now he was here.

  Emotions Mistral had fought hard to subdue began to claw their way to the surface, ripping away at her carefully constructed armour of cold indifference, forcing her to feel again. Mistral knew she couldn’t stay there, propped up against the wall, on display to anyone who walked out. If she was going to give in to the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her, she needed to do it in private.

  With a huge effort, Mistral commanded her legs to work and began to walk slowly across the cobbled square. Unbidden thoughts rose in her mind like bubbles of air. What was Fabian doing here? And with Golden of all people? Phantasm’s description of Emiror came back to her in a rush, ‘think of her as a Golden with guts ...’

  Was he settling for second best if he couldn’t have the real thing?

  The door behind her suddenly banged open and Mistral’s first instinct was to run – anything to avoid having to face the twins’ questions. She knew they would have seen Fabian by now and worked out why she had left so suddenly – but before Mistral could take a step, a hand seized her arm, pulling her round.

  Fabian De Winter quickly grasped her other arm, holding her firmly to prevent her from escaping. His coal-black eyes raked her face before settling on her eyes. Mistral stared back, powerless to look away from the dark eyes that seemed to pierce her soul. Then he spoke in a voice softer than brushed velvet and Mistral felt her eyes close involuntarily, savouring the sound, easing some unrecognised longing inside her.

  ‘Please, come back inside with me.’

  It took her dazed mind a moment to fully comprehend his request before her eyes slowly opened. She stared wordlessly back at him. Her instant response was to refuse. The stubborn streak protecting her was too well established to permit her to agree and endure more pain by being near him. There was no way on earth she had the self-control to calmly sit opposite him and maintain any sort of composure. Everything she had been hiding from was boiling up inside her with violent force. Her legs shook with the effort of simply remaining upright. Rational thought and speech were utterly impossible.

  ‘Please … permit me the chance to explain,’ his jet eyes were eloquent, beseeching her to comply with his simple request.

  Mistral was struck by the sudden thought that he was only here to unburden his conscience; igniting a spark of irritation within her. Reassuring, familiar anger welled up inside her, washing away the last remnants of shock and finally freeing her voice.

  ‘No.’

  Mistral cringed inwardly at the petulant tone of her voice. A significant part of her desperately wanted to follow him anywhere, to the ends of the earth and beyond. But the more powerful, stubborn part that had forced her to survive over the last few months rooted her feet to the spot and made her say stupid things.

  ‘Please,’ Fabian pleaded softly, his voice caressing the word, compelling her to look at him.

  His ebony eyes burned into hers, stealing the breath from her lungs. It had been so long since she had experienced their intensity that it caught her off guard and her resistance immediately melted. Mistral nodded helplessly and the part of her that longed for him soared with joy when he smiled and gently pulled her back towards the noisy warmth of The Cloak and Dagger.

  She allowed herself to be led to a small table at the back. They attracted a few stares and a particularly filthy look from Golden, but Mistral was oblivious to everyone but Fabian. It was as though she was following him down a dark tunnel and all she could see was him. He pulled out a stool and waited for her to sit before taking one opposite her. Mistral stared silently across the table at him, studying the face she had seen in her dreams a thousand times. He looked tired. His hair was longer and more unkempt, he was unshaven and, she realised with a lurch, utterly perfect.

  ‘Mistral,’ his voice was more of a sigh that a spoken word. ‘How have you been?’

  He was asking after her health? Was he joking? She could have laughed at the absurdity of it.

  ‘Fine.’

  Her tone was instantly defensive. She avoided his eyes and fixed her gaze on the wall behind him instead.

  Fabian’s brow furrowed briefly. He leaned across the table, forcing her eyes to
meet his, ‘I’m no expert, but you look far from fine.’

  So now he was telling her that she looked rough. Great. Mistral shot him an angry glare and looked down at her hands, laid flat either side of a goblet of wine that had appeared unnoticed on the table in front of her. She gazed longingly at the ruby liquid, but didn’t dare take a sip lest her trembling hands betrayed her.

  Fabian sighed and reached across the table to wrap one of her hands in both of his. She was too astounded by the sudden contact to flinch and marvelled instead at the warmth of his rough, calloused hands, feeling simultaneously a wild surge of joy struggling against an instinctive urge to yank her hand away. Her heart was beating so hard she thought he must feel it through her hand where it lay unmoving, cradled in his long white fingers.

  ‘Mistral –’

  His voice caressed her name and she felt her eyes begin to close once more.

  ‘I need to tell you something ... about what happened in the desert. Everything changed for me, but I think you know that already.’

  Fabian’s voice was still soft but with a new, hesitant edge to it. Mistral opened her eyes, fearful of what he was going to say, of the pain his words could unleash inside her. His raven eyes were fixed on hers, his expression unfathomable. Almost instinctively, like a second nature, she read his aura. It glowed into view instantly, a halo of deepest pink encircling his dark head. Love. Mistral frowned sharply and drew her hand away from his.

  ‘Emiror,’ she muttered and looked down at her untouched goblet, feeling sudden angry tears prick her eyes.

  ‘Yes, Emiror comes into this –’

  To hear him say Emiror’s name was like being cut by a knife. Mistral refused to look at him and let him see the pain she had allowed him to cause. Rage flashed through her at her own stupid naivety. Wasn’t this what she had been avoiding for months? And now, here she was, willingly giving him the power to hurt her. Physical pain was nothing compared to the agonising stab of rejection that pierced her soul, but to feel his pity would be infinitely worse. How could she have been so stupid to think that he had any interest in her? He was just here to explain, to ease his conscience before going back to Emiror. Mistral realised with a fresh jolt that he must have somehow found out how she felt about him and come to put her out of her misery to soothe his precious conscience. Who told him? Leo? The twins? Serenity? Her mind wheeled as she ran through a list of people she suspected knew the truth. A sudden thought struck her, twisting the knife deeper. Emiror had been with child. Was the child his? Despair squeezed her heart and the question escaped her lips before she could stop herself.

  ‘The baby … what did she have?’ she asked in an unrecognisable harsh whisper.

  ‘I haven’t heard.’

  Fabian’s voice was dismissive. No, it was more than dismissive, it was completely disinterested. Mistral’s head snapped up in response to the unexpected reply, bewilderment mingling with the anguish on her face. Fabian’s dark eyes widened briefly at her expression before understanding flared in their depths. He smiled sadly.

  ‘Did you think I was the father?’

  Mistral glared at him to hide her confusion.

  He reached over to take hold of both of her hands, the smile fading from his pale face to leave him looking tired. His raven eyes stared sombrely into hers, ‘Do you know what I felt when I saw her again?’

  Mistral dropped her gaze to hide another spasm of pain and stared instead at his long fingers where they lay over hers. After a moment she shook her head, steeling herself for more barbed words.

  ‘Relief.’

  Surprise made her look up again to be instantly trapped by his soulful black gaze.

  ‘I admit I carried a torch for Emiror, once, but I never noticed that it had gone out,’ he smiled wryly. ‘When I saw her happy, married, with child ... I felt none of the emotions that I expected. No desire to be with her, no jealousy.’

  ‘But,’ Mistral blurted before she could stop herself, ‘your aura –’ she tailed off, dropping her gaze and inwardly kicking herself for asking yet another question with a painful answer.

  Fabian lifted a hand and gently raised her chin with one finger, forcing her to meet his eyes.

  ‘Ah, Mistral,’ he sighed softly. ‘When you read my aura you saw, what? Love? Pain? Did you never realise that it was because of you?’

  Mistral grimaced. That would be about right. Emiror causes all-consuming love and all she could manage to do was inflict pain. At least I’m in the right profession, she reflected sourly.

  Fabian sighed at her lack of response then smiled apologetically, drawing her hands closer to him.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured, smiling gently at her across the table. ‘I know I’m not making much sense.’

  That’s an understatement, thought Mistral, raising her eyebrows in silent agreement with him.

  ‘I suppose I should just come out with what I came here to say.’

  Fabian’s voice was solemn, his pale face tense, but an intense emotion shone in the liquid black of his eyes.

  Mistral frowned, wondering how much this was going to hurt. After a moment she nodded and braced herself for agony when he began to speak.

  ‘There was too much left unsaid between us when we parted in The Desert Lands. I know it was my fault. I was not ... I have not been entirely honest with you … but I will be, I promise. I just need you to understand something first.’ Fabian paused. A hesitant expression came over his face, making him look so suddenly vulnerable that Mistral felt her heart ache. He drew in a ragged breath and exhaled slowly.

  ‘Since the last time I saw you I’ve done nothing but think about this. And believe me, I’ve had plenty of opportunity to think,’ he smiled ruefully. ‘I’m not sure I can explain it, but I think that you feel it too. The way I’ve felt, since I last you … being away from you, it’s almost been like being dead,’ Fabian paused to look at her, scorching her with the intensity of his gaze.

  Mistral stared back, listening to every word with a deepening sense of unreality.

  ‘I truly believe that we belong together Mistral,’ he said quietly, his eyes never leaving hers. ‘I love you.’

  Mistral tilted her head fractionally. She was sure she had just heard Fabian De Winter say that he loved her, but that was impossible. Perhaps he had said ‘I loathe you’. Yes. That was much more plausible. Mistral was unwilling to ask him to repeat himself in case that was what he had said, so she sat in silence, her expression unintentionally blank while she replayed his words in her head, trying to be certain.

  ‘Please … say something.’ Fabian’s face was taut and his hands tightened reflexively over hers.

  ‘Um, could you say that last bit again?’ Mistral finally whispered.

  He drew in a deep breath and said the words again, deliberately and with absolute sincerity.

  There was another long moment of silence. Mistral realised that she had had been holding her breath and exhaled noisily.

  ‘Oh!’ her voice sounded small and strange.

  Fabian gave a short mirthless laugh and let go of her hands. He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest then regarded her with a bemused expression on his face.

  Rendered momentarily speechless by shock, Mistral could only stare silently back. Her face felt unnaturally stiff and immobile. In contrast to her frozen expression, inside her a storm was raging. Her heart felt like it had suddenly swelled to twice its normal size and was pounding with wild, irregular beats and then suddenly, somewhere deep within her, a volcano erupted.

  He loved her?

  Her?

  Was he joking with her?

  His expression didn’t make her think so. Mistral was dimly aware, in a remote way, of other people around her that might have also heard what he had just said, who might share in her shock. But she couldn’t look at anyone else. It was as though there was a bubble around her and Fabian, sealing them into their own private reality. After several long minutes Mistral realised
that he was looking expectantly at her, waiting for a response. She swallowed, forcing moisture into her dry mouth.

  ‘But where have you been?’ she eventually managed to whisper bewilderedly.

  Fabian hesitated for a short second and his expression told her that this was not the response he had been hoping for. Mistral inwardly cursed the part of her that simply refused to let its guard down. But he quickly recovered his composure and smiled sadly at her.

  ‘Ah,’ he sighed, clasping his hands together and leaning forward on his elbows. ‘I suppose I deserve to suffer. I can only apologise for any pain I must have caused you by being absent for so long. Please, allow me to explain.’

  He was suddenly cool and distant, making Mistral berate herself again for not being able to tell him how she felt.

  ‘After the armies retreated from the desert I wanted to find you. I needed to speak with you, but the treaty had to be drawn up and Eximius insisted that I was involved. He wanted to use my name to add weight to the proceedings,’ he scowled briefly. ‘The treaty negotiations went on for hours and by the time I managed to excuse myself all the Ri were long gone. I rode straight down to the docks, but your ship had already sailed,’ he sighed, looking suddenly weary and took a long swallow of wine before continuing.

  Mistral sat silently watching him, totally absorbed in what he was saying. She had imagined the events after the battle for so long and now that she was finally hearing them she didn’t want to miss a word. It was like a wound finally being healed.

  ‘Well, Eximius didn’t seem to be able to wait either because his warship was ready to leave the harbour too. I had to make my choice, travel back with the celebrating Mage under sorcery,’ his voice roughened with distaste, ‘or try and hire a vessel to carry me over on my own. In any event, I obviously took too long deciding because Eximius put to sea without me.’