The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams) (38 page)

‘Oh, I get it, I’m dreaming.’
 Mistral murmured sleepily and slumped back against him with her eyes
tightly closed.  ‘But that’s at the Council.  Why would I dream about
something so boring?’

Fabian kissed the top of her
head, ‘You are not dreaming Mistral.  We are at the Council.’

‘Oh?’  Mistral murmured,
sounding unconvinced.  ‘And what are we doing there?’

Fabian sighed, ‘Tell me what you
remember,’ he entreated her quietly.

Mistral groaned, ‘I hate it when
you ask me that!  It always means something bad has happened to me –’

There was a moment’s silence
while the events of the previous day crawled into Mistral’s sleepy mind. 
Suddenly she tucked her legs up and curled into a ball, tight against
him. 

‘Oh!  Oh!  So that
wasn’t a nightmare?  All those images of you ... all the things they did
–’

‘Weren’t real.’  Fabian
stated quietly, wrapping his arms protectively around her.

Mistral stayed tightly curled in
his arms, ‘I know.  And I knew it then.  But even though I kept
telling myself that I just couldn’t help reacting, feeling the pain each time I
saw you die –’

‘Hush.  Let it go.  It
was never real, it was just a spell.  This, here and now.  This is
real.’ he tilted her chin and kissed her.

A polite cough made them break
apart and the cool voice of Phantasm drifted across the room.

‘We thought we heard
voices.  We’ve been instructed to find out if you’re both awake and ready
for breakfast.’

Mistral opened her eyes
cautiously.  Bright sunlight was pouring in from two long windows directly
in front of her.  She blinked and lifted a hand to shield against the
glare, gazing around in frank amazement at her surroundings.  The entire
room was white.  The curtains, the thick carpet, the silk wallpaper, even
the velvet sofa she and Fabian were lying on were precisely the same shade of
brilliant white, except that the sofa now had more than a few black smudges on
it where Mistral’s boots had grazed the velvet.

‘Damn it,’ she muttered, quickly
shifting her boots off the sofa. 

‘Don’t worry.  It’ll give
mother an excuse to have another made.’  Phantasm said drily.

‘Mother?’  Mistral repeated
with a confused look.

‘Yes Mistral.  Melsina
De’ath is our mother.  This is the house we grew up in.’

‘Oh!’  Mistral looked around
with fresh curiosity at the plush white room.  It was beautiful, but
terribly unpractical.  She raised an eyebrow at a row of regimentally
arranged bone china figures on the mantelpiece and could instantly see where
the twins learned their obsessively tidy behaviour from.

‘She’s made breakfast.’
 Phantom began then stopped and gave a short laugh.  ‘But what am I
saying?  Allow me to amend that.  Mother has ordered breakfast to be
prepared for you.  It’s being served in the main dining room.’

‘Main dining room?  Er, no
offense, but I’m not really dressed for anything that formal sounding!’ 
Mistral said quickly.

‘Wesley?  Sheldon?’ 

The twins flinched at the sound of
their mother’s voice. 

 ‘Wesley!  Sheldon
!  Don’t you dare ignore me when I’m calling you!’ 

‘I feel like I’m six years old
again.’  Phantom muttered through clenched teeth.

‘Let me deal with this.’
 Fabian rose to his feet and strode through to the next room.

The twins watched him leave with
identical expressions of trepidation.

‘Brave man.’

Phantasm glided over to Mistral
and reclined elegantly on the sofa beside her, ‘How are you feeling?’

His angel’s
face was composed into a sincere mask of concern but Mistral wasn’t buying it,
‘Oh come off it Sheldon!  You don’t give a stuff how I’m feeling! 
You just want to know what happened.’

Phantasm gave her a pained look,
‘First of all, not so much of the Sheldon, and secondly, I care about
you.  Is that so hard to get into that thick lump of stone on top of your
neck?’

‘Whatever.’  Mistral
muttered and gazed broodingly around the perfect room.  ‘I’d rather forget
all about the last however long I was in that hell-hole … which was where by
the way?’

‘That hell-hole was the cellar of
the De Winter family home.’  Phantasm replied crisply.  ‘And we last
saw you five days ago, but you weren’t in there that long.  It would have
taken them at least a couple of days to get you there, and you’ve been asleep
here since yesterday … so I calculate that you may have spent one or maybe two
days in the pleasure of Golden’s company.’

‘Don’t mention that bitch to
me!  Damn it!  What’s keeping Fabian?’  Mistral leapt up and
began to pace agitatedly, leaving more dirty prints on the white carpet.

‘I’m here.’  Fabian strode
back into the room bearing a tray laden with food.  ‘Your mother is a most
generous hostess.’  he commented to the twins and set the tray down on the
sofa.

The twins shared a look of
disbelief. 

‘How did you charm our mother
into allowing you to bring food into this room?’ 

Mistral threw Fabian a sharp
look.  The emotions that had ravaged her were still too close to the
surface. 
Charm? 
A hundred images filled her mind, each lit
by the harsh glare of jealous fear.

Fabian met her look and smiled
with sad understanding, ‘I simply explained to her that Mistral has been
through enough ordeals for the moment and that we would be leaving straight
away.  Melsina was utterly horrified that I would leave her house without
having received the appropriate hospitality, hence the compromise.’

‘A tray.’  Phantom stated
flatly.  ‘I didn’t realise she knew how to lay one.’

‘Your cook did it.’  

Fabian sat down and immediately
pulled Mistral down next to him.  Protective, possessive,
reassuring.  Whatever his reasons, she was glad of the result and leaned
against him, letting his closeness soothe her raw emotions. 

‘However,’ Fabian continued,
glancing apologetically at her, ‘Melsina was insistent that she assist you in cleaning
up before we leave.’

‘Oh!  Right.’  Mistral
rubbed quickly at the smudges of dirt on the white velvet sofa.  ‘I guess
I owe her a clean sofa.  D’you think I should scrub it?’

‘No Mistral.  Mother wants
to clean you up, not the sofa.’  Phantom said heavily.

‘What?’  Mistral sank
against Fabian’s side.  ‘Haven’t I just had enough torture?’

‘Apparently not.’

‘What is it with your family and
wanting to dress me like some hideous life-sized doll?  Can’t we please
just go home?’  she begged, switching her imploring gaze to Fabian.

He smiled and touched her cheek
gently, ‘We will leave for home today, I promise.  But first you must eat
then gracefully accept Melsina’s hospitality and finally we must attend a brief
meeting with Eximius.’

‘He’s back?’ 

‘Yes, that’s why Golden and
Putreo were forced to leave so abruptly and, thankfully, without you. 
They fled before we reached the city – unfortunately.’  Fabian added in a
darker tone.

Mistral frowned, ‘They
fled?  But if you weren’t in the city to tell him, how did Mage Grapple
know where Putreo was?’ 

‘Warlocks.’

‘I don’t get it, how would they
know where to find me?’

‘Not you Mistral.  Putreo.
 Warlocks are strange creatures.  They can identify a Mage purely by
the scent of their Craft.  It’s unique to every Mage.  Putreo, Golden
and the cousins literally had to run for their lives and leave you behind.’

‘What about Columbine?’ 

‘She was not with Putreo when
they fled and has not been sighted yet, although Eximius has ordered a search
for her.  But enough talk of yesterday, please eat something.  We
have a long day ahead of us.’

‘And please hurry up.’ 
Phantasm whipped out a linen napkin and laid it over her lap.  ‘Mother
doesn’t like to be kept waiting.’

‘Especially not when she’s got a
new pet-project like you to be getting on with.’  Phantom added with a
worried glance towards the door. 

Mistral stared at him, noting the
darting looks both twins were throwing the door, ‘That bad huh?’ 

‘You have no idea.’

Mistral sighed and reached for a
cinnamon roll, ‘I think I’m going to need all the energy I can get.’

The twins watched disbelievingly
as she took a large bite, spreading crumbs across the sofa in the process.

‘We would so be killed for doing
that.’  Phantom muttered, reaching for one himself.

‘For less brother, for less.’
 Phantasm agreed quietly and took a slice of cold meat between his
fingers.

‘I still don’t get how you even
knew I was in the city.’  Mistral said, wiping her hands against her
trousers and reaching out for a cup of fresh orange juice. 

‘Saul found your tracks and
Prospero followed your scent –’ Fabian began only to be interrupted by an
excited squeak from Mistral.

‘Prospero!  Where is
he?’ 

‘A dog in the house would
possibly have pushed mother over the edge.’  Phantom gave her a raised
eyebrows look.  ‘I’m not sure anyone has actually sat on that sofa before,
never mind slept on it in dirty clothes.  Prospero is with the others, in
the Council hospitality house.’

‘Others?’ 

‘Yes Mistral.  We’re all
here.  Master Sphinx included.’

Mistral snorted into her orange
juice, ‘Guilt and investment protection.’

‘Must you always be so cynical?’

‘Realistic brother.’

‘Well you can be all hard and
ungrateful to us but try and say something nice to the Divinus.  We’d
never have found you if it hadn’t been for him.  He actually travelled all
the way with us, reading the thoughts of Golden, Putreo and the two Rochfortes
until he picked up something that gave their location away.’

Mistral looked up, her cup of
juice frozen half-way to her mouth, ‘Did he hear my thoughts too?’ 

Phantom grimaced, ‘Sorry.’

Mistral turned slowly to look at
Fabian, her expression agonised, ‘He spoke them out loud?’ 

Fabian nodded.

Mistral placed the cup down on the
table and stared at it, ‘So you know… you all know … what happened, what I felt
–’

Fabian took her hand, ‘Please
look at me Mistral.  I need to see you when I say this.’

Mistral dragged her frozen gaze
up to meet Fabian’s velvet eyes.

‘None of what you saw or felt was
real,’ he said slowly, his black gaze holding hers with utter sincerity. 
‘This, here and now, how much I love you, is real.  The fact that your
brothers rode through the night to find you is real.  You must forget
yesterday like it was a dream, because that’s all it was, a twisted figment of
Putreo’s imagination moulded by his desire to conquer your will.’

Mistral looked away to stare
unseeingly out of the window, her voice a strained whisper, ‘It – it was like
being in my own personal hell.  My every worst possible fear about you
bought to life over and over –’

Fabian let go of her hands to cup
her face, forcing her to meet his gaze again, ‘It was not real.’

She gazed at him, lost in the
starless depths of his eyes, ‘Is this?’

‘Yes.’  he pulled her gently
towards him and kissed her.

‘Mistral!’ 

Melsina De’ath entered the room
and paused, striking a pose while she smiled engagingly.  Her entrance
complete, she continued to move forward with liquid grace, seeming to flow
rather than walk across a room that paled before her glowing perfection. 
Mistral broke away from Fabian’s embrace and stared at her dumbfounded. 
She was the epitome of the twins, tall, slender, graceful, green-eyed, but so
beautiful that it almost hurt to look at her. 

‘Er, sorry about the mess Mrs
De’ath, I’ll clear it up.’  Mistral mumbled, brushing ineffectively at the
crumbs scattered across the sofa.

Melsina’s smile didn’t falter,
‘Please don’t worry.  I have servants to clean up.  Now,’ she paused
and reached out a perfectly manicured hand, ‘I need to show you to your
bathroom.’

Mistral threw a last desperate
glance at Fabian as Melsina’s hand fastened around her wrist, hauling her from
the sofa with surprising strength.  Ignoring her mute pleas for help,
Fabian smiled encouragingly while she was dragged across the room.

‘I’ll be right here,’ he
promised.

‘Safest place to be.’
 Phantom muttered while he and his brother watched Mistral being dragged
from the room with identical expressions of sympathy etched on their faces.

Melsina led Mistral through a
series of fabulously decorated rooms, giving her a running commentary on the
designer and decorator for each before she paused briefly at a huge picture
window to point out the view of the courtyard, three storeys below them.

‘Aren’t they sweet?’  she
murmured with a fond smile. 

‘Er?’  Mistral leaned
forward to gaze down at the two bored looking lions she had noticed when she
had ridden along the Council avenue previously.  ‘Sort of, I guess –’

‘Oh, don’t be afraid of
them!’  Melsina said quickly, turning to unleash the full force of her
beguiling green gaze.  ‘Leo and Delilah are perfectly well trained and
wouldn’t hurt a fly!’

Mistral bit her lips to suppress
the ironic laugh forcing its way out. 
Leo?
 

‘No, I’m sure they are just …
lovely,’ she agreed in a serious voice, privately thinking that the poor
creatures looked bored out of their minds and could do with either being
released or put out of their misery.

The bathroom that Melsina showed
her into was a sumptuous creation of marble and gold.  The bath alone
could easily have fitted Mistral, Fabian, Spirit, and Cirrus in it all at
once.  Mistral fought down the desire to laugh at that bizarre thought and
wondered wildly if her mind had actually become unhinged by her recent
experiences.

‘Now, let’s get you out of those
awful clothes.’  Melsina approached Mistral with a frightening expression
of intent on her face.  ‘A beautiful girl like you should never wear such
rags!’