The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams) (42 page)

‘Please remember that whatever
you chose is subject to final approval by Master Sphinx.’  Gleacher
interjected swiftly.

Cain muttered something
unintelligible under his breath that sounded like ‘control-freak’ and reached
out to grab a Contract at random from the desk.

‘Missing husband … wife wants him
back … preferably dead?  Is this an assassination Contract or a piece of
wishful thinking?’  Cain exclaimed, throwing it back down onto the table.

‘Pass me that.’  Xerxes
reached out for the Contract.

‘Do you want it?’  Cain
asked in surprise.

‘No, I want to go see the
wife.  She’ll be lonely –’

‘Xerxes!  Please take this
more seriously!’  Gleacher reprimanded in a sharp voice.

‘How about a mercenary Contract?’
 Saul asked quietly, looking up from the Contract in his hand.

‘Ha!  You mean you want to
get Mistral alone on some foreign shores and comfort her, you sly dog!’
 Xerxes grinned. 

Saul ignored him and returned his
attention to the Contract, ‘Getting her away from the Isle might not be such a
bad idea at the moment.’

‘That’s a dispute between two
warring tribes of vampires in Outer Mongolia.  I’m not too sure it would
fall into the category of “safe”.’  Phantasm murmured, reading the
Contract over Saul’s shoulder.

‘Definitely “distracting”
though.’  Phantom added.

‘Foreign travel is also out of
the question.’  Gleacher said firmly. 

‘There’s not a lot here that’s
suitable.’  Brutus complained, sifting through the pile on the desk.

‘What’s that one?’  Xerxes
asked, reaching for a scroll sealed with red wax stamped with the distinctive
emblem of a wolf’s head.

‘It’s not a Contract,’ said
Gleacher.  ‘It’s an invite.’

‘Oh yes?’  Xerxes said
distractedly.  He had found the Contract for the missing husband and was
trying to memorise the address details.  ‘What for?’

‘The Festival of the Arcane.’

At once the brothers were staring
at him with eager expressions on their faces.

‘You’re joking!’

‘I would kill to go to that!’

‘You already have brother, you
already have –’

A burst of laughter was quickly followed
by an expectant silence as Gleacher held the invite up in his hand and slit
through the wax seal with a knife.

His grey eyes raked the details
for a few minutes while the warriors waited with bated breath for him to speak.

‘Do you remember our full-blooded
cousins going to that?’  Xerxes hissed to Brutus, keeping his eyes fixed
greedily on the invite in Gleacher’s hand.

‘Of course I do!’  Brutus
whispered back.  ‘Didn’t one of them die?’

‘That’s right!  I
so
have to go!’  Xerxes breathed, his eyes shining with reverence.

Gleacher’s eyes snapped up from
the invite to meet their feverish stares.

‘Are you familiar with The
Festival of the Arcane?’

‘Yes!’  Xerxes, Brutus,
Cain, and Grendel chorused but the twins shook their heads.

Gleacher nodded, ‘Yes, your
upbringing at the Council will have left you ignorant of this event as Mage
attendance is strictly forbidden.  Well, for your benefit I shall
summarise.  The Festival of the Arcane is held once every five years in
the Vale of Belleville in the south of the Isle.  It is hosted by the
elven tribe that live in The Emerald Forests close to the Vale.  Their
chieftain, Bryden Wolfsnare, has formally invited the Ri to send a contingent
of warriors to compete.’

‘That’s us!’  Xerxes thrust
his chest out confidently.

‘What does this Festival entail
exactly?’  Phantasm asked suspiciously.

Gleacher glanced down at the
invite in his hand, ‘It’s a three day event.  Competition categories
include unarmed combat, swords, mounted target shooting with bows and crossbows,
a stamina and skills challenge and an unspecified test at the end between the
finalists –’

‘Well it certainly fits the
profile doesn’t it?’  Xerxes interrupted with a grin.

‘And the prize?’  Phantom
asked.

‘Five Hundred.’

‘Silver or Gold?’  Cain
demanded sharply.

‘Gold.’  

‘Now you’re talking!’ 

‘I think we’ve just found our
safe distraction for the Lady De Winter!’  Brutus declared, grinning
broadly.

‘Are we all in agreement?’ 
Xerxes asked, gazing around excitedly. 

‘Yes!’ 

The joint response rang out from
Cain, Saul, Brutus and Grendel with the twins’ more quietly spoken agreement
following a second later.

‘You have reservations?’ 
Gleacher asked with a slight frown.

Phantasm shrugged, ‘Only that
this is exactly the type of event that Mistral would obviously relish and
Columbine still hasn’t been found.’  

Xerxes waved a hand airily,
‘We’ll sort that b – that one out, no problem.’  

Gleacher eyed the twins for a
moment longer then nodded, ‘I will speak with Master Sphinx.  Should he agree
to your attendance, you will leave on Monday.  The tournament begins the
following weekend and you should allow plenty of time for the journey and to
rest when you arrive.’

‘Ah, now, who’s going to tell
Mistral?’  Xerxes asked with a wink.  ‘I bet she’ll be very grateful
–’

Brutus sighed wearily, ‘Please
don’t mention those trousers she was wearing again brother.’

‘She looked
good
!’

‘Yes, maybe so, but you really
didn’t need to mention it quite as often as you did.’

‘We will tell her.’
 Phantasm interrupted swiftly and held his hand out for the invite in
Gleacher’s hand.  ‘Now in fact ... come on brother.’

The moment the door closed behind
them the brothers immediately began discussing the categories, recounting the
many tales of heroic exploits at previous Festivals they’d grown up listening
to.

‘What do you think?’ 
Phantom asked his brother quietly while they made their way along the corridor
towards the stairs leading up to the dorms.

Phantasm pursed his lips
thoughtfully, ‘I think it’s exactly the type of distraction that Mistral needs
whilst Mage De Winter is away.  However, I also think that we are not
going to be the only ones to realise that.’

‘You think the Rochfortes will
try something?’

‘Maybe.’  Phantasm said
broodingly.  ‘But doubtful.  It’s an Arcane event and Mages are
forbidden.  It’s Columbine I’m more concerned about.  If the
information we received at the Council was correct then Putreo, Golden and the
two Rochforte cousins fled leaving Columbine behind.’

‘And we all know how she hates to
be parted from her beloved Golden.’

‘And who she’ll blame for it.’
 Phantasm finished darkly.

Phantom nodded, ‘So, we need to
keep an extra sharp lookout for the charming features of Columbine then.’

‘I fear so.’

They had reached Mistral’s door
and Phantom leaned his ear against the wood before he knocked.

‘You have to stop doing
that!’  Phantasm hissed.

‘I know, sorry.  Force of
habit.  Hang on ...  I think she’s crying –’

Phantasm frowned and rapped on
the door.

‘Come in!’  Mistral called
brightly.

The twins shared a puzzled look
and slowly pushed the door open, poking their blonde heads cautiously through
the gap to gaze into her room.

‘Are you alright?’  Phantom
asked, eyeing her cheerful expression dubiously.

‘Yes,’ she grinned.  ‘Why
wouldn’t I be?’

‘Only the obvious.’
 Phantasm stepped into her room and peered around suspiciously. 
‘Your Mage hasn’t stolen back in the night and hidden in your room has he?’

‘No!’  Mistral
laughed.  ‘But I have just spent the last hour with him.’

The twins spun round to stare at
her then Phantasm’s face cleared and he smiled.

‘Ah, but of course.  The
Divinus.’

Phantom let out a sigh of
understanding, ‘Your Mage persuaded the Divinus to read him every day for you.’

Mistral nodded happily.

‘Very clever.’  Phantasm murmured,
strolling over to sit down beside her. 

‘I know.  Fabian thinks of
everything.’  Mistral sighed contentedly and picked absently at a loose
thread in her old black shirt.

Phantom and Phantasm shared an
bemused look.  Phantom twirled his finger beside his temper, signalling
that Mistral was insane. 

‘We have some good news for
you.’  Phantasm moved over to sit beside her. 

Mistral looked at him eagerly,
her mind instantly filled with an image of Fabian riding into the Valley.

‘We are going to compete in The
Festival of the Arcane!’

‘What’s that?’

‘It’s a three day event in the
South.  Arcanes only, lots of fighting and bloodshed.  Just your type
of thing.  We’re leaving on Monday.’ 

Mistral’s face fell slightly,
‘Leaving?’ 

The twins frowned at her. 

‘We thought you’d leap at the
chance to spend three days trying to kill a variety of opponents in a different
location to the Valley!’  Phantom exclaimed.

Mistral sighed and gazed down at
the thread she had tugged from her shirt, ‘It just means I won’t be able to
hear Fabian, doesn’t it?’

‘Ah Mistral.’  Phantasm
sighed softly.  ‘I think Mage De Winter’s plan to give you something to
stay in the Valley for has worked a little too well.’

‘Come on Mistral!  It’s only
a few days and the change of people to beat up will do you good!  Those
poor first years are starting to flinch every time you walk past them!’

‘No they are not!’  Mistral
snapped. 

‘Not that the one you were
training with this afternoon was doing much walking.’

Mistral scowled, ‘Huh!  He
really annoyed me.  Can you believe he called me “Lady De Winter”?’

‘Such an insult.’  Phantom
murmured sympathetically.

Mistral gazed at the black thread
in her fingers, twisting it thoughtfully, ‘I suppose it would be fun.’
 she finally conceded.  ‘Oh, alright then – but on one condition.’

The twins eyed her dubiously.

‘Yes?’

‘Your gift.’

‘What about it?’

She gave them a supplicating
look, ‘Can you use it to tell Fabian something?’

Phantom cringed, ‘No Mistral, I
really don’t think I would be comfortable saying those three little words to
Mage De Winter –’

‘No!  Not that!’ 
Mistral burst out laughing.  ‘I want you to tell him that if he’s sees
Golden while he’s out there to stick a knife in her for me.’

‘Oh, we can do that, no problem.’
 Phantom said with a sigh of relief.  ‘We’ll have to tell him you’re
going to the Festival anyway.’ 

‘Well, we can try.  I don’t
want to get your hopes up Mistral, but we’ve only ever used our gift to
influence people actually in our sight.  I’m not sure how effective we are
yet over long distances.’  Phantasm warned. 

‘Well I appreciate you trying
anyway.’  Mistral leapt up with purposeful expression on her face. 
‘Right!  Time for an hour’s practise then down to The Cloak to rob those
brothers of mine blind!’

The twins sighed resignedly and
sat obediently side by side on the bed while Mistral stood before them and
began to read their auras, trying to force her mind to see beyond their
emotions and hear their thoughts.

By the end of the hour the twins
were bored and Mistral had a headache.

‘Anything?’  Phantasm
enquired without any real hope.

‘Nothing.’ 

‘Drink?’  Phantom suggested,
springing lightly from the bed and heading over to the door.

‘Several.’  Mistral sighed
and followed him out into the corridor

The following Sunday afternoon
the twins were once again in Mistral’s room.  Phantasm was packing for her
and Phantom was laid on her bed next to Prospero reading a heavy book entitled
“Sorcering Blood-lines: the Complete Guide”.  Mistral was sat cross-legged
on the floor staring intently at each of their auras in turn with a look of
intense concentration on her face.

‘Phantom!’ she suddenly
exclaimed.  ‘What are you reading?  You’re aura’s just gone bright
pink!’

‘Nothing!’  Phantom quickly
turned the page.

‘It’ll be the Lacey family tree.’
 Phantasm said without looking up from the neatly folded shirt he was
packing in Mistral’s saddlebag.  ‘We went to school with the daughters and
Phantom had a crush on one of them.’

‘Didn’t!’  Phantom snapped,
going faintly pink.

Mistral laughed, ‘Really?  I
just can’t imagine your mother thinking any girl was good enough for either of
you.’

‘That was the problem actually.’
 Phantom admitted uncomfortably.  ‘When mother found out that I liked
Eloise Lacey she actually invited her parents around for tea and began to
discuss wedding plans.  We were twelve!  It was horrendous!’

Despite the laugh Mistral had to
stifle she felt genuine sympathy for Phantom.  She had experienced
first-hand how overpowering Melsina De’ath could be.  The evidence was
gathering dust under her bed in the form of the most torturous piece of
underwear Mistral had ever worn. 

‘Enough chat.’  Mistral
frowned heavily and concentrated on Phantom’s aura again.  ‘I’m trying to
master my damned gift here –’

‘I think that’s part of your
problem actually.’  Phantasm’s muffled voice came from under the bed where
he was fishing out the black trousers his mother had given Mistral.

‘What do you mean?’  Mistral
demanded, hastily checking to make sure he hadn’t also grabbed the other
embarrassing item Melsina had given her.

‘Well, you’re going at this like
it’s a training exercise, all effort and intensity.’  Phantasm explained
patiently.  ‘I think you’re trying too hard.  You need to relax and
let your mind roam.’

‘You sound like Serenity.’
 Mistral grumbled.

Phantom looked up from his book,
‘Well its advice worth listening to then.  She really helped us improve
our gift.’