The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams)

by Kirsten Jones

  ‘Now I’m really intrigued! What did I miss?’ Mistral cried, reaching out to grab a chicken leg from Phantom’s abandoned plate.

  ‘Shh, not so loud,’ whispered Phantasm with a pained look on his face. ‘I have the most appalling headache.’

  He abruptly stopped talking and laid his head down on his arms.

  ‘Sorry Phantom, but it looks like the burden of telling the tale has fallen to you,’ said Mistral giving him a sympathetic look.

  ‘Fine,’ said Phantom with his eyes still closed. ‘But could you please finish that chicken leg first? Watching you eat it is really not doing me any favours.’

  Mistral tore the last of the meat from the chicken leg and tossed the bone down onto Phantom’s plate.

  ‘All done,’ she said with a smile and leaned forward on her elbows to fix Phantom with an expectant gaze. ‘I’m listening.’

  Phantom glared at her, ‘You know, I’m beginning to regret all the times I’ve pestered you for details you didn’t want to give.’

  Mistral gave him an ironic grin, ‘Hmm, it is making quite a refreshing change. Come on brother. Spill the beans.’

  ‘Well, after you slunk out of The Cloak and Dagger at an outrageously early hour last night, leaving me alone at the bar,’ Phantom paused to give her a reproachful look, ‘Floris produced a bottle of the most foul liquor I’ve ever had the misfortune to experience. It smelt like something they use in the tannery –’

  ‘Tasted like it too,’ Phantasm added in a muffled voice, still cradling his head in his arms on the table.

  Mistral laughed, making Phantom wince again. ‘Fabian told me about this stuff. Floris calls it his ‘Qualifying Week Special’ or something. He makes it to a secret recipe apparently.’

  ‘Well I hope he takes the secret to the grave with him, because I never want to taste that stuff ever again!’ Phantom said fervently.

  ‘Did it have a pickled baby basilisk in it?’ Mistral asked curiously. ‘Fabian said that theirs did, and when you tipped the bottle up to drink you had to touch the basilisk’s nose with your lips. It’s called “kissing the snake”.’

  ‘Oh no,’ moaned Phantasm from the table top. ‘I’d forgotten about that.’

  ‘So, anyway, to get back to the story … who hit you?’ Mistral asked, indicating the bruise on Phantom’s face.

  ‘No-one,’ he said, looking pathetic. ‘I fell off my chair during a mammoth game of cards. You know, I’m sure Cain cheats. No-one can get cards that good on every hand.’

  Mistral laughed, ‘You fell off your chair? Sounds like I missed a good night!’

  ‘You snuck out early this morning. Have you been out of the Valley all day?’ Phantasm asked, lifting his head fractionally from his arms to give her a bleary-eyed look.

  Mistral nodded, her expression slightly guarded. She was still angry with Phantasm for being so rude to Fabian but didn’t want to talk about it in front of Phantom. She and Fabian had crept from her room at daybreak and ridden to his house to spend the morning in front of the fire on his sofa and do nothing but talk and enjoy simply being alone together.

  ‘Where is Mage De Winter now?’ Phantom asked, gingerly probing the bruise on his cheek.

  Mistral sighed, ‘Gone. The Council beckons. So now all I’ve got now is you two and some dull strict instructions from Fabian to have an early night in preparation for tomorrow.’

  ‘Wise man, your Mage. Right, talking of tomorrow, Cain told me there’s a schedule on the Contracts Board about next week – I’ll go have a look.’ Phantom rose to his feet with a groan and walked slowly from the Refectory.

  A silence fell while Mistral looked around the Refectory at the other apprentices sat poking disinterestedly at plates of food. No-one was talking much and they all looked very sorry for themselves. Except Golden. She was laughing and chatting animatedly to a green-faced Columbine, drawing pained looks from everyone within earshot of her piercing peals of laughter.

  Phantasm turned his head on his arms to look at Mistral, ‘Say it.’

  ‘I think you had better do the talking actually,’ she replied coldly.

  He raised his head from his arms, his expression a hundred shades of contrite and defiant, ‘I was rude to him, I know. But Mistral! The things that he has done! He has a past so dark he makes Konrad look like a saint!’

  Mistral glared at him, ‘And you think any of that matters to me? What am I? An angel? The past is exactly that Phantasm. Past. And it’s best left there.’

  ‘I didn’t want to see you hurt! I –’ he hesitated then sighed. ‘You’re like a sister to me Mistral.’

  Mistral met his emerald bright gaze and her anger instantly faded, ‘Oh, don’t get soppy on me brother or I will have to kill you,’ she warned with a half-hearted scowl, adding more gently. ‘You really don’t have to worry about me you know. I can look after myself.’

  ‘I don’t think you can where he is concerned.’

  ‘Then it’s a good job I’ve got you two looking after me for another year isn’t it?’ she responded flippantly.

  ‘You’ll always have us Mistral.’

  Mistral rolled her eyes, ‘Don’t depress me Phantasm –’

  Their conversation was cut short by the return of Phantom, clutching a piece of parchment in one hand.

  ‘Here we go,’ he said in a suddenly business-like voice. ‘One itinerary from hell. Monday morning promises the delights of Unarmed Combat/Close Quarters. Ugh! I hope I don’t get Grendel –’

  ‘Or Golden,’ added Phantasm wrinkling his nose in disgust. ‘She’s a nightmare to work with. She tried to tickle me last week. Inappropriate doesn’t even come close!’

  ‘I hope I get Columbine,’ said Mistral with feeling.

  ‘And in the afternoon we’ve got Sword Work. Ha! No problems there,’ Phantom continued. ‘Tuesday. Hmm, let’s see. Right, in the morning its Longbow and Crossbow –’ Phantom looked up from the parchment to give Mistral a worried look. ‘Can we do some work during lunch tomorrow please Mistral?’

  ‘No problem.’

  ‘Thanks! Right … Tuesday afternoon we’ve got Throwing Knife and Dagger … in partners … full armour needed there then. Wednesday is easy! Listen to this! In the morning it’s Basic Medical Care and then Poisons and Antidotes in the afternoon.’

  ‘Again, I hope I get Columbine to use as a tester for the afternoon,’ muttered Mistral.

  Phantom ignored her and continued to read off the list, ‘Thursday looks good. We’re out all day night. It’s a survival skills test taking us straight into the final day.’ Phantom paused while his eyes skimmed over Friday’s details.

  ‘What is it?’ Phantasm asked, looking at his brother for the first time.

  ‘A hunt,’ he said looking slightly perplexed. ‘We could all hunt before we even came here! I don’t really see what will be so difficult about that one. It’ll be a test of tracking and stealth, obviously, but I fail to see how bringing down a couple of deer will Qualify us as warriors –’

  ‘Does it specify what we have to hunt?’ Mistral asked, peering over the top of the parchment.

  ‘No. It just says “Prey to be announced at breakfast on Thursday”.’

  ‘There you go then,’ said Mistral with a note of satisfaction in her voice. ‘They’ll be bringing something really good in for us to hunt. I hope it’s a dragon! I’ve always fancied a go at one of them.’

  Phantom went white, ‘You don’t think they’d do that do you?’

  ‘No Phantom they won’t,’ said Phantasm in a weary voice. ‘The only dragons on the Isle are in the Northern Range and they’re all protected since overenthusiastic people like Mistral tried to hunt them to extinction.’

  ‘Still, I bet it’ll be something good,’ said Mistral with an excited gleam in her eye. ‘Right, I think you two need something to sort you out! Wait here while I go and raid Serenity’s storeroom. She’s got this great tonic that sorts out anything!’

  Phantom put down the parchment and wa
tched her go with a thoughtful look on his face, ‘I know you disapprove of Mage De Winter but you have to admit he does put her in a good mood, which makes our lives a lot more pleasant.’

  Phantasm lifted his head from his arms and looked broodingly at his twin, ‘She thinks he makes her happy, but so does the prospect of hunting a dragon. Mistral just doesn’t know when something is too dangerous for her to handle.’

  Breakfast the next morning was a subdued affair with none of the apprentices managing to eat much. The tension in the room rose noticeably when Leo Sphinx and his Training Lieutenants entered, immediately ending what little conversation had been taking place.

  He walked to the end of the Refectory and stood in front of the counter, facing them all with a cold, hard look on his face and deliberately drawing out the long moment of heavy silence before he spoke.

  ‘Today your Qualifying week begins. I hope that you are all sufficiently recovered from Saturday night’s disgraceful behaviour!’

  ‘What d’you reckon he did on the Saturday before his Qualifying week? Polished his armour?’ Phantom muttered to Mistral under his breath.

  ‘I expect more from my warriors than drunkenness and gambling!’

  ‘Hmm, like having affairs with them.’ Phantom whispered. Mistral stifled a laugh, causing Leo to glare icily at them for several long seconds.

  ‘I will be overseeing today’s assessments and there will be no second chances. This is no longer training!’ Leo paused to sweep the room with his cold stare once more. ‘I will see you all in the upstairs Training Room in ten minutes.’

  Mistral frowned and glanced out of the window at the clear sky. The snow that had fallen the week before was still clinging to the roofs and edges of the paths but the Arena was clear.

  ‘He doesn’t want Golden to catch a chill, how thoughtful,’ said Phantom in a simpering voice.

  ‘Or he doesn’t want unexpected onlookers,’ said Phantasm with a meaningful look at Mistral.

  ‘For your information Fabian is at the Mage Council this week,’ she said in with a haughty lift of her chin.

  ‘Good, because you’re rubbish when he’s watching,’ said Phantom and immediately ducked as Mistral’s hand whipped out to cuff him around the head.

  Leo and his Lieutenants left swiftly and the room was suddenly alive with noise and activity. The sound of nervous conversations mingled with the squeal of benches scraping the floor as the apprentices hurried to leave and get up to the Training Room.

  Mistral, Phantom and Phantasm shared a long look.

  ‘Ready?’ Phantasm asked.

  Mistral rose to her feet, ‘As I’ll ever be.’

  ‘Let’s get this over with,’ said Phantom with a determined look on his face.

  They reached the third floor and entered the vast torchlit room with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. Columbine bared her teeth at her from the other side of the room and Mistral grinned back, feeling adrenalin start to pulse through her.

  ‘Oh, you’ll get yours, I’ll make sure of it,’ she muttered under her breath.

  They joined the other apprentices sitting with their backs against the far wall to watch Leo walk into the room followed by Caleb, Barak and Cyrus.

  The three Lieutenants remained near the door but Leo strode into the centre of the room. Mistral watched Golden’s face as Leo called up the first pair of apprentices, noting that she looked distinctly smug.

  ‘Seen Golden’s face?’ she muttered to Phantom. ‘Bet she thinks this one is in the bag already.’

  Phantom looked over and made a disdainful sound at the back of his throat, ‘Bet she had her assessment on grappling last night –’

  ‘Oh please!’ Phantasm hissed reprovingly.

  Konrad and Xerxes were the first to be called up. They walked calmly to the centre of the floor and faced each other. Leo called for them to begin, immediately both apprentices started to circle. Each mimicked the others’ stance, crouched forward with arms slightly raised, looking for an opening to deliver the first move.

  Xerxes suddenly rushed forwards with his fists clenched. Konrad instinctively raised his hands to defend himself leaving his body unprotected and allowing Xerxes to drive a fist into his ribs. Konrad grunted in pain but remained upright. Quickly taking advantage of Xerxes’ close proximity he tried to grab at his throat. Catching the fleet movement, Xerxes reflexively grabbed both of Konrad’s wrists. Yanking them together he shifted his grip to hold them with one hand and slammed his free hand into Konrad’s throat and squeezed, restricting his breathing enough to make the half-drow start to turn red. Twisting sharply to the side, Xerxes flung Konrad to the floor and dropped down beside him, keeping the pressure against his throat until Leo called time on their bout.

  Xerxes and Konrad walked from the centre of the floor and resumed their seats against the back wall in total silence. Leo did not comment on their performance but immediately called out the next two apprentices. Konrad’s face was suffused with anger; he had come off worst in the bout and he knew it. By contrast Xerxes looked quietly pleased with himself and rested his head back against the wall to watch the next round.

  To Mistral’s disappointment Leo had called up Columbine and Grendel. The squat, muscular figure of the half-gargillian barely reached as high as Grendel’s chest but everyone in the room knew that she wouldn’t be daunted by Grendel’s size.

  Her face twisted into an ugly sneer when they faced each other in the centre of the floor. Leo’s curt order for them to begin had barely left his lips when she sprang forward and rammed a boot into his belly. Grendel grunted at the contact but didn’t stumble or even flinch; he merely growled and swung out a massive fist, catching Columbine around the side of her head with a force that sent her staggering back. Spitting a mouthful of blood onto the floor, she bared her teeth at Grendel and flung herself at him with her fingers curled into claws.

  Grendel didn’t even try to move out of the way but simply grabbed her belt as she rushed at him, lifting her above his head to hold her there, writhing furiously. The sight of her struggling and swearing caused a ripple of laughter to run around the room, easing the tension. With a sudden roar Grendel dropped Columbine onto the floor and lifted his boot to stamp down and end the fight but his boot landed on nothing but the padded floor. Columbine had rolled away and sprung to her feet. Before Grendel could do anything more than grunt in surprise she flew at him. Grabbing his ankle she tugged sharply and sent him sprawling backwards onto the floor and was on him in a heartbeat, kneeling on his chest and wrapping her strong fingers around his windpipe in a crushing grip, her snarling face inches from his. He choked just once then reached up with one massive hand and swiped her away like an irksome fly, sending her flying through the air to crash against the back wall of the room.

  ‘Time!’

  Leo barked out the order before Columbine could attack again. He had seen enough. Nobody could cope with Grendel for long.

  Leo’s icy blue gaze swept the assembled row of waiting apprentices again. A flicker of something passed over his face and Mistral instantly knew that he was going to call her out.

  ‘Mistral!’

  She rose to her feet and began to walk towards the centre of the floor.

  ‘And Saul!’

  Mistral felt herself falter half a step and glanced at Saul. He avoided her gaze, keeping his eyes downcast while he walked to the centre of the floor. She stared at him, willing him to meet her eyes so that she could somehow convey to him to get this over with as quickly and painlessly as possible, but he kept his gaze averted.

  ‘Begin!’ Leo snapped in a cold voice.

  Exhaling the breath she had been holding Mistral immediately stepped forward. Saul mirrored her move, stepping back and then to the side to keep out of reach, his hands hanging limply by his sides. Mistral quickly realised that Saul was just going to evade every effort she made to engage him and probably fail his Qualification in the process.

  ‘Come on Saul!’ she hisse
d under her breath and stepped forward again.

  He didn’t respond and slid back another pace.

  ‘Damn it Saul!’

  Finally lifting his eyes to meet hers, Mistral saw the look of resignation in them and shook her head angrily, ‘You are not failing because of me!’ she growled and immediately feinted to the left.

  When Saul moved the other way she slipped around behind him and quickly wrapped her right arm around his throat. Pressing her left hand against the back of his head, Mistral locked him into a choke hold. Saul made no move to dislodge her and Mistral knew for certain that he would rather fail the bout than work with her.

  ‘Are you just going to give up on me?’ she muttered angrily in his ear.

  ‘Never.’

  Grasping her arm in a hard grip he pulled sharply, releasing the pressure against his throat enough to allow him to tuck his chin down and force her arm away, at the same time driving an elbow into her ribs.

  Mistral flinched away from the glancing blow and lifted her boot to kick him in the back of the knee, knocking him down to the floor. Dropping down with him without relinquishing her hold on his throat she shifted her position to tighten her grip and began to squeeze, expecting to hear Leo‘s shout for their bout to end. A split-second passed, then another and Mistral realised that Leo was going to make her choke Saul to unconsciousness. With an angry hiss she released her grip and stood upright. Saul rolled over, gasping for breath, his eyes bloodshot.

  ‘I don’t recall telling you to break.’ Leo’s dispassionate voice carried clearly in the stunned silence of the room.

  Mistral shot him a look of pure contempt and reached out her hand to Saul. Holding her gaze he took the hand she offered and pulled himself upright.

  Wordlessly Saul and Mistral walked back to their places and sat back down.

  ‘Golden and Phantasm!’ Leo’s voice rang out immediately.

  Phantasm muttered a curse under his breath then sprang lightly to his feet and strode to the centre of the floor. The half-nymph took her time rising to her feet and straightening her shirt, flipping her long hair over one shoulder she finally walked over to join him.