The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams)

by Kirsten Jones

  Fabian read the feint easily and parried Phantasm’s blade away, stepping forward and slicing his own blade upwards, forcing Phantasm to leap swiftly backwards to avoid the strike. The tempo quickly increased until the Training Arena rang to the sound of their sword strikes. Mistral found herself holding her breath with every parry and strike. A different noise forced Mistral to briefly tear her gaze away to see that they were no longer alone. The other apprentices had returned and were watching Phantasm and Fabian with interest. Mistral was disgusted to see that Xerxes was already toting for business, taking bets on who would draw first blood.

  Fabian’s relentless attack was gradually forcing Phantasm back against the Training Arena fence, giving him no reprieve until Phantasm’s was pressed right up against the fence. When Phantasm raised his sword to block another blow Fabian held his sword pressed tightly to it, stepping in closely so that they were face to face over their locked blades.

  ‘Concede?’ he enquired in a barely audible murmur.

  Phantasm glared into Fabian’s black stare for a long moment, his chest heaving from the effort of forcing himself not to pant. After a long moment he nodded stiffly.

  Fabian smiled and stepped back, releasing Phantasm from beneath the pressure of his sword.

  ‘You are correct. You are a better swordsman than your brother, but you let your emotions show. Try to be more objective,’ he advised, calmly sheathing his sword.

  The apprentices broke into a ragged applause and entered the Arena themselves to begin practising enthusiastically. Xerxes quickly studied Phantasm and Fabian only to be disappointed. Neither had any blood on them although Phantasm’s jerkin had a few nicks in it where Fabian’s blade had found its way through his guard.

  They all stayed in the Arena until the light faded on the short winter day. To Mistral’s surprise Fabian stayed and trained with the apprentices. She watched him, captivated by the fluidity of his movements and the way his face glowed with the same exhilarated look she had seen on the deck of Mage Grapple’s warship. She was swamped again by a feeling of unreality. It seemed unbelievable that he wanted to be with her, this beautiful and dark Mage. He was dangerous, of that she had no doubt, but the knowledge gave her no fear. She felt only the thrill of facing something wild and unknowable.

  When the light finally became too poor for them to continue the apprentices retired to The Cloak and Dagger in an exuberant mood. Everyone had trained well and there was a definite feeling of being nearly at the end of their long year. Freedom was in sight.

  Strolling up to her, Fabian wound his arm around her waist and pulled her against him, walking side by side towards the brightly lit tavern.

  ‘That was rather fun,’ he smiled and turned to kiss her. ‘By the way, do I have a rival?’ he added in a soft murmur in her ear.

  Mistral shot him an apologetic look, ‘I don’t know what got into Phantasm today. He’s usually so polite, particularly to Council members.’

  ‘No, not Phantasm, I think I know what his problem is. I meant Saul. I’m sure you know him. He’s the unhappy looking apprentice that avoided training with you for the entire afternoon and also risked being thrown out of the Valley by defending you from Barak on Monday.’

  ‘Oh,’ Mistral bit her lip and felt herself blush. ‘No, of course you don’t have a rival in Saul.’

  ‘Missed his chance did he?’ Fabian murmured.

  ‘He never stood a chance. But if you must know, he did mention something the other day.’ Mistral muttered, uncomfortable with the conversation. She didn’t want to discuss Saul with Fabian. She sensed a dark streak in him that she instinctively knew that this type of talk could ignite.

  ‘I see. Anyone else I need to be worried about?’ Fabian’s tone was deliberately light, but his arm tightened around her.

  ‘Only Grendel the half-troll, oh, and Konrad, but I think he’s gone off me now I’m happy!’ Mistral snapped, suddenly growing tired of the conversation.

  ‘Konrad is which one?’

  ‘The half-drow, you can’t miss him. He’s the one’s that looks miserable all the time.’

  ‘Ah, that explains why he’s no longer interested in you. You must have been a magnet to him over the last couple of months. But how did you avoid him? Drows are formidably tenacious when they have a victim.’ Fabian scowled and pulling her protectively closer.

  ‘The twins buffered me from him a lot, so he never really bothered me,’ Mistral admitted. ‘But I’m still going to have a word with Phantasm when we get to The Cloak. I don’t know what got into him today.’

  Fabian didn’t reply. They had reached the entrance to the tavern and he stepped forward to hold the door open for her.

  ‘Why thank you,’ she said with a coy smile and stepped through into the rowdy warmth of the packed tavern.

  The apprentices had spread themselves around three of the tables. Only Golden was conspicuous by her absence, leaving her surly side-kick Columbine reluctantly talking to Konrad. Mistral smiled. Of course Konrad would be drawn to her now she was miserable at the prospect of losing Golden if her application for a second year was refused.

  The two second year apprentices were also there. They had kept themselves separate for the duration of the year but now their time was drawing to a close they were happy to mingle and let their guard down. Xerxes was noisily coercing one of them into a game of knucklebones being held on the only table not filled with tankards.

  Fabian chuckled and wound his arm around Mistral once more to walk with her towards the bar.

  ‘Reminds me of my Qualifying week,’ he said with a reminiscent smile.

  Mistral glanced at him, intrigued. He hadn’t talked about his two year apprenticeship with her yet.

  ‘Tell me about it,’ she asked, leaning against him once they reached the bar.

  Fabian passed her the full tankard Floris set before him and collected another for himself before turning to look at her.

  ‘When we’re alone later,’ he promised. ‘But right now I think Phantasm wants a word with me.’ Fabian smiled and kissed her briefly before making his way through the noisy rabble of apprentices to where Phantasm was sat alone at a table near the back.

  Mistral watched him sit down opposite Phantasm, deliberately placing his back towards her so that all she could see was Phantasm’s face, which was telling her nothing, as usual. It was set in the carefully polite mask he normally wore. Mistral strained her eyes to see Phantasm’s lips move, trying to work out the words they framed, but he was speaking with his mouth tightly drawn, making it impossible for her to make out anything clearly. His aura glowed around his blonde head in a cloud of blue, telling her nothing other than he was utterly focussed on the conversation he was having with Fabian.

  Mistral suddenly wondered where Phantom was. The twins were usually inseparable. She scanned the tavern through its perpetual haze of tobacco smoke. More people had crammed into the tightly packed room as visiting warriors drifted in to join in the revelry, but she couldn’t see Phantom’s sleek blonde head anywhere amongst the crowd.

  ‘Looking for me?’ Phantom asked, gliding to her side with ghostly quietness.

  ‘Yes,’ said Mistral shortly, turning to face him. ‘I want you to explain what the hell got into your brother today and what he’s talking to Fabian about!’

  Phantom avoided her questioning glare, ‘It’s really not for me to say,’ he muttered unhappily.

  ‘Phantom!’ Mistral exclaimed angrily. ‘Please don’t play games with me! I don’t think I can take any more of Phantasm’s love of intrigue and conspiracy! Is this about his theory?’

  Phantasm shook his head and continued to avoid her eyes, ‘I’m sure Mage De Winter will tell you.’

  Mistral gritted her teeth, praying for patience. She knew that if she really pushed him then Phantom would tell her, but it was hardly fair for her to force him to divulge a confidence his brother had shared with him. She had no desire to cause a rift between the twins, and Phantom was right,
Fabian would tell her later. She would make sure of it.

  ‘Drink?’

  ‘Please,’ Phantom said with obvious relief at being let off so lightly.

  Mistral ordered him a drink and shoved it unceremoniously towards him when it arrived. She may have given up, but she had not forgiven him.

  ‘You trained well today,’ she began in an effort at conversation. ‘Need some work on your attacking stance though.’

  Phantom gratefully seized the topic of conversation and began an enthusiastic debate on the merits of different styles. Mistral listened with half her attention, making occasional contributions to keep Phantom talking, the rest of her attention was firmly fixed on the intense conversation happening at the table across the room.

  An hour passed while Mistral leant against the bar listening to Phantom before Fabian and Phantasm suddenly stood up at the same time. Mistral straightened, watching their body language intently. Phantasm reached out and grasped Fabian’s outstretched hand and shook it briefly. Mistral was relieved to see that he was smiling, although his expression was still a little reserved.

  There was no mistaking the amused expression on Fabian’s face as he walked back across the room towards her. Even though he was not actually smiling Mistral could see the glint of humour dancing in his dark eyes. She waited anxiously at the bar, making no attempt to listen to Phantom’s continued monologue. He was on his fourth tankard of ale and would have talked to a stuffed goblin if nothing else was available.

  ‘Would you like to get something to eat?’ Fabian enquired when he drew close enough to speak without shouting above the noise in the tavern.

  Mistral nodded. She had no interest in food but was desperate to get out of the tavern and find out what they had been talking about. Leaving Phantom still discoursing freely to the air around him about tracking methods, Mistral slipped her hand into Fabian’s and followed him through the noisy throng of half-drunk apprentices and warriors.

  ‘Leo is going to be fuming with this lot tomorrow,’ he laughed softly as they stepped out into the fresh night air.

  The last person Mistral wanted to talk about was her Training Captain, so she said nothing and waited apprehensively for Fabian to tell her what he had been discussing for the last hour.

  ‘You know,’ he continued thoughtfully, pausing to wrap an arm around her and pull her closer before walking across the village square. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen a group of first years who have knitted quite to tightly as you all have. Apart from one or two obvious exceptions, I genuinely think you would die for each other.’

  ‘Fabian!’ Mistral exploded. ‘Will you please tell me what you’ve been talking to Phantasm about! Or do I have to go back and beat it out of his brother, who, by the way, has bored me to tears with inane drivel for the past hour –’

  Fabian abruptly turned kissed her, not gently, the way he usually did but forcefully, surprising her with his intensity.

  ‘I love you,’ he said fiercely.

  ‘Fabian! You’re scaring me now! Please tell me what’s going on!’

  ‘Let’s eat first,’ he said, almost hauling her up the path towards the Refectory.

  Mistral felt her temper rising and forced it down with a determined effort. Either he was deliberately trying to annoy her or he was avoiding the subject.

  ‘I’ll make you a compromise,’ she offered through clenched teeth.

  ‘Oh yes?’ he murmured politely, not looking at her.

  ‘We’ll collect some food from the Refectory and take it up to my room then you can tell me everything,’ she said in a voice that suggested he had better not argue.

  Fabian didn’t comment. She risked a glance at his face and could see that he was smiling. What had amused him? Was it her? Had Phantasm’s been telling stories of her mishaps over the year? She cringed and hoped not.

  They collected a plate of something that looked vaguely like food from the kitchen. Bernadette was not in a good mood. She told them at length how Leo had instructed her to lay on a good meal since the apprentices would be eating early and heading off to bed when in reality none of them had even bothered to come in. Mistral drummed her fingers impatiently on the counter top while Fabian listened politely to Bernadette moaning.

  ‘Perhaps if your food was actually edible they’d have turned up!’ Mistral finally snapped and dragged Fabian away, leaving Bernadette red-faced.

  ‘Now that was just rude,’ Fabian murmured reprovingly as she marched him determinedly out of the Refectory and into the corridor.

  Mistral’s anger vanished with the strange abruptness that all her moods happened. Suddenly she was crying, not an elegant trickle, but from the heart, in deep wracking sobs.

  ‘Please, please, just tell me what Phantasm and you were arguing about! Are you leaving again? Is that it?’

  Fabian was instantly distraught. The plate of food smashed unnoticed on the stone floor as his hands cupped her face.

  ‘No! Never! I will never leave you Mistral! I swear it.’ he brushed away her tears with his thumbs and kissed her gently. ‘I’m so sorry. I’m being an idiot, I know.’

  Without missing a beat he swept her into his arms and carried her along the corridor and up the stairs to the dorms. Kicking her door open he laid her gently onto the bed then knelt on the floor beside her.

  ‘Forgive me,’ he began in a tortured whisper. ‘You must understand that Phantasm knows me of old, or rather, he knows the old me. He is very protective of you Mistral. He wanted to be sure that I had changed and wouldn’t hurt you … any more than I already have, that is.

  ‘I lived a hundred lives before I found you, and none of them were good. Ungrateful son, runaway, warrior, thief, mercenary, spy, assassin ... you name it and I am sure I have probably carried out a Contract on it. Phantasm is right. You deserve so much more than me but I am selfish enough not to let you go –’

  The expression of utter bleakness on Fabian’s face was more than Mistral could bear. She slid from the bed onto his lap and wrapped her arms tightly around him, fresh tears pouring down her face.

  ‘Never let me go Fabian! You are everything to me! I don’t care about your past. I only care that you are here with me, right now.’

  He leaned his forehead gently against hers so that their faces were almost touching. She could feel every warm breath and the gentle rise and fall of the chest that held the heart she loved. They stayed there, silent and unmoving until Fabian abruptly rose to his feet, lifting her easily into his arms. Sitting down on her bed, he gently settled her next to him and stretched his long legs down the length of her narrow bed while she curled up against him.

  ‘Phantasm is very fond of you Mistral,’ Fabian said softly. ‘He has no wish to see you hurt again. I am not sure you comprehend the true depth of loyalty the twins have for you. I know you bicker and fight with them like brother and sister, but you must see that is what you are. You share skills so rare and yet so similar that you are almost fated to be bound to one another. I do not think I have ever heard of three such strangely gifted apprentices coming through the Ri at precisely the same time. It’s no wonder Leo is in such a state over the possibilities. The potential you three hold is practically limitless –’

  ‘I don’t want it,’ she stated flatly, adding more softly. ‘I only want you.’

  He sighed and gently stroked her hair, ‘I know you have made a sacrifice for me by agreeing to stay for a second year, and I am more grateful than you will ever know that you love me enough to try and stay alive for a while longer.’

  He paused and Mistral tilted her head to look up at him to see him smiling wryly at her.

  ‘You’re worth it I suppose,’ she shrugged, masking the relief of her singing heart to see him smiling again.

  He bent his head and kissed her, a feather-light touch lingering against her lips.

  ‘You know you’re not leaving me alone tonight,’ Mistral murmured, shifting into a slightly more comfortable position.

 
; Fabian sighed, ‘This is not quite how I imagined our first night together would be.’

  ‘You’ve thought about that?’ Mistral asked, grinning wickedly up at him.

  ‘Hmm, but I don’t think that it would be wise to discuss my thoughts on that particular subject right now. Instead let me tell you about my Qualifying week. It was an exceptional display of alcohol-fuelled shambolic behaviour, not on my part of course.’

  ‘Of course, I’m sure you were a paragon of virtue,’ Mistral agreed with a smile.

  ‘Of course! However, there was one particularly wild night when I may have got into just a bit of trouble with our Training Captain at the time, a foul-tempered half-minotaur called Simian. He made Leo look like an angel I can tell you –’

  Mistral listened to Fabian telling stories with a smile on her face so large that it threatened to permanently stretch the muscles beyond repair. There was no place on the entire earth that she would have rather been than there in that bare, cold cell of a room, held in Fabian’s warm arms and listening to the sound of his voice. They talked endlessly, long into the night. The village clock chimed midnight, and then hourly, utterly unnoticed by either of them until Mistral eventually drifted into the most blissful sleep cradled in Fabian’s arms.

  Qualification Begins

  On Sunday Mistral found the twins picking morosely at plates of cold meats in the Refectory.

  ‘Even Bernadette can’t ruin a lunch of cold meat,’ she said brightly, sitting down beside them. ‘What’s wrong with you two?’

  Peering closely at the twins, Mistral could see dark circles under their eyes and Phantom had the unmistakable greenish tinge of a bruise marring the ivory skin of his cheek.

  ‘Things got a bit out of hand last night … apparently,’ Phantasm murmured, rubbing a hand over his face.

  ‘You weren’t drinking cider again were you?’ Mistral asked with a roll of her eyes.

  The twins pulled identical faces of disgust and pushed away their plates of food.

  ‘I think I’m going to be sick again,’ muttered Phantom faintly and closed his eyes, pressing a hand to his forehead.