The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams) (49 page)

The elf laughed softly, ‘Yes, I can
see that you would not be able to conceal a truth from me.  Tell me
sister, do you know who bought the Contract on my kinsman?’

‘No.’  Mistral frowned
hazily.  ‘But it does seem to bother my brothers here.  They can’t
understand why anyone would buy a Contract on an elf.  Apparently you lot
usually sort out your own differences.’

The twins winced at her
tactlessness but the elf merely laughed and shook his head, ‘Guileless. 
How rare.  You are correct.’  he continued in a clearer voice.
 ‘But we have since discovered that Xavier was in the pay of the Ri to
carry goods.’

Mistral looked at him blankly,
‘Sorry.  That means nothing to me.  Who?  What goods?’

‘Xavier was our kinsman and the
goods I refer to were items of a sensitive nature.’

The twins stirred.  Mistral
could almost feel their inquisitive natures flare while she remained drunkenly
ignorant.

‘Do you refer to …
ingredients?’  Phantasm asked in a low voice.

The elf snapped his gaze up to
meet Phantasm’s and nodded slowly.

Phantasm exhaled slowly, ‘I see
–’

‘And as usual, I don’t.’
 Mistral sighed, sinking to the ground and wrapping her arm around
Prospero.

‘Xavier was keen on coin.’ 
the elf explained, his voice hard with disapproval.  ‘It drove him to
undertake work that no tribal elf should lower themselves to.  He agreed
to become a carrier for a member of the Ri and transport illicit goods from the
Valley to a location we can only guess at.’

‘The Council.’  Phantasm
breathed.

The elf favoured him with a long
look before nodding slowly, ‘We believe so, yes.’

‘Fine.’  Mistral looked up
with a weary frown.  ‘So what were these illicit goods then? 
Weapons?’

‘Not as such, although they could
become extremely powerful weapons in the right hands.’

Mistral leaned her head into
Prospero’s dense fur and sighed sleepily, ‘I hate riddles.’

‘You believe that someone with a
high enough position in the Ri to act without being questioned was using your
kinsman to carry ingredients for illegal potions?’  Phantasm asked in a
cautious whisper.

The elf held his gaze steadily,
‘I do.  The items on their own appear unusual of course, but innocuous
enough; powdered bestra horn, manticore poison, gargoyle eggs –’

‘I had to fetch some of them
once.’  Mistral murmured drowsily.  ‘For Malachi … he never even
thanked me –’

The twins shared a meaningful
look.

‘She speaks of the Magnate
member?’  the elf asked sharply.

The twins nodded once, reluctant
in their forced betrayal.

‘Then we have our answer. 
We wish you well in the festival brothers, and bid you goodnight.’

The elves melted silently into
the darkness leaving the twins alone with Mistral, fast asleep against
Prospero.

Phantasm gave his brother a bleak
look, ‘This is a bad business.’ 

‘I agree.  How are we going
to move her away from that dog without him attacking us?’  

Mistral woke at dawn the next day
to find that she was curled up against Prospero with her face pressed into his
heavy fur.  With a groan she moved her head and felt the tell-tale ache in
her temples that only one thing would cure. 

Looking around blearily she saw
the twins rolled up in their travelling cloaks close by.  They had
obviously spent the night outside to continue with their babysitting
duties.  Mistral immediately felt a bit better for having caused the
comfort-loving pair some hardship, seeing it as just payback for forcing her to
wear clothing she’d thought safely hidden under her bed.

Standing up quietly, Mistral
decided to take advantage of her brief freedom and sneak off for a cold swim
without their unnecessary company.  Patting her leg to call Prospero to
heel she stole from the camp.  It was early and very quiet.  She
strode quickly past rows of tents with their flaps drawn tight against the
heavy dew, their occupants still sleeping off the excesses of the feast.

The feast … Mistral cringed,
dimly recalling getting drunk and fighting with a goblin.  What was it
with her and goblins?  She never seemed to be content to just kill one,
but seemed to need to roll around brawling on the ground with them like school
children in the playground.  Fabian would not be impressed, or maybe he
would just laugh.  Mistral smiled longingly at the thought of her Mage
laughing and remembered the stories she’d been told the previous night. 
Nothing had shocked or even surprised her.  He had freely admitted to
having a dark past, and it was just that to her, the past.  Mistral only
cared about the future; his return from France and the moment she finally
gained Sight … though probably for all the wrong reasons.

Thoughts of the wrong reasons
occupied her all the way to the pool at the northern end of the Vale.  She
sat down to pull off her boots then looked around carefully to make sure that
the twins hadn’t followed her before taking off the rest of her clothes. 
She stood up and walked to the edge of the pool and paused for a moment,
enjoying the sun’s warm touch on her skin before diving into the cold water.

Breaking the surface with a gasp
Mistral let out a loud laugh at the sight of Prospero plunging in after
her.  He paddled across the pool towards her, blowing jets of water from
the sides of his mouth, trying to catch sunlight reflecting on the
surface.  Smiling at her dog’s ridiculous antics she swam across to the
waterfall to wash away the last vestiges of her headache.  The water sluiced
over her head and neck in an icy torrent, so cold it felt as though it were
choking her.  And suddenly it was. 

Hands gripped her throat,
dragging her backwards into the cave behind the waterfall.  In the cave’s
abrupt darkness Mistral couldn’t see anything and thrashed blindly against her
unseen attacker, clawing at the hands that held her in a suffocating grip,
slowly dragging her under.  With a loud snarl Prospero burst through the
waterfall and lunged at her attacker, sinking his teeth deeply into their
arm.  A piercing scream reverberated around the low cave and Mistral
instantly felt the tension on her windpipe slacken.

Gasping in a much needed lungful
of air she spun around in the water to see Columbine struggling to free her arm
from Prospero’s jaws.  She screamed, her ugly face twisting in rage and
punched Prospero in the head but he just growled and clung on.  The sight
of Columbine hurting Prospero galvanised Mistral into action.  With a
shout of rage she kicked out and lunged through the water, reaching for her
throat.  Columbine jerked away and dived, wrenching her arm from
Prospero’s mouth.  The sound of her cut-off shriek echoed eerily in the
cave.  Prospero paddled around Mistral in a circle, his muzzle stained
with blood.  Mistral trod water, breathing in rapid gasps, her eyes moving
over the dark surface.  Suddenly she gave a shout of surprise then
vanished below the water, pulled sharply under by Columbine. 

They struggled in the black
water, blinded by the streams of silver bubbles that erupted from their
screaming mouths.  Mistral felt Columbine’s hands wrap around her throat
again and lashed out wildly.  She felt her elbow connect and Columbine’s
grip instantly slackened but Mistral had no air left to stay and fight. 
She kicked frantically for the surface, desperate to ease her aching
lungs.  Columbine grabbed her legs again, pulling her back down. 
Mistral felt the burning need for air intensify and began to panic.  She
kicked madly, trying to free her legs, twisting her body left and right,
slamming her own head into hard rock in her efforts to escape.  Spots of
light exploded in front of her vision.  Her mouth opened in an involuntary
shout of pain but instead of noise coming out, water rushed in, bringing with
it abrupt blackness.

Suddenly something was pushing
her up to the surface.  She felt her knees scrape the bottom of the pool
and crawled her way onto the rocks.  There she collapsed and vomited water
before rolling onto her back, taking deep shuddering breaths of air while she
stared up into the pale blue eyes of her dog.

‘Good boy,’ she croaked and then
Prospero was gone, bounding away with a loud bay that signified the start of a
hunt.  Mistral pushed herself up onto her elbows and watched him chasing
Columbine through the tangle of tents.

‘Damn!’

Hastily dragging on her clothes
with shaking hands, Mistral drew her dagger and stumbled after Prospero. 
She suddenly heard her name being called above the blood pounding in her ears
and spun round wildly to see the twins running towards her.

‘What’s happened!  Why are
you running around half-dressed and armed?’

‘It’s Columbine!’  she
gasped hoarsely.  ‘There’s a cave behind the waterfall!  I thought I
saw something there yesterday – it must’ve been her.  She just tried
strangle me while I was swimming … Prospero saved me –’

‘Phantom!  Get her back to
the camp now!  I’ll search for Columbine!’ 

‘No way!  I want that
bitch!’

‘No Mistral!  I want you
back at the camp where I know you’re safe!’  Phantasm snapped and ran
after Prospero, vanishing into the sea of brightly coloured tents.

‘Let me go!’  Mistral
howled, struggling against Phantom’s grip. 

‘No Mistral.  My brother can
cope with Columbine.  He’s armed –’

Mistral immediately rounded on
him, her face sharp with suspicion, ‘Armed?  Why is he armed?  You
two never carry weapons unless you’re going on a Contract!’

Catching the tell-tale flash of
guilt in his eyes Mistral swore and began to fight against him again, ‘Damn
it!  This is what you’ve been hiding from me isn’t it?  You
knew
Columbine was going to be here!’

‘We didn’t know, we suspected.’
 Phantom corrected.  ‘Columbine’s an Arcane, she knows about the
festival and she knows it’s just your sort of thing.  We guessed she might
show up at some point.’

‘You could have told me!’ 

Mistral shook him off and stalked
off to retrieve her boots from the edge of the pool.  Phantom quickly
caught her up and reached out to grab her arm again, steering her back to their
camp.

‘And what good would that have
done?  You’d only have gone looking for her!’

‘Better than having her leap on
me whilst I was having a swim!  I’m going to be scarred for life!’

‘Come on, it’s only a couple of
bruises on your neck!’

‘That’s not what I meant!’

Phantom laughed and immediately stopped
at the look of fury on Mistral’s face, ‘Sorry, couldn’t help it.  If it’d
been anyone but Columbine I think you would probably have just fulfilled all of
Xerxes’ fantasies in one go, talking of which, you’d better do your shirt up
before we get back to then tent or you might end up having another fight when
he sees you.’

Mistral snorted disgustedly and
stormed off but made sure she’d buttoned her shirt up before they got back to
the tent. 

‘Morning sunshine!  Dream of
goblins did we?’  Xerxes called cheerfully while he stirred the contents
of the pot suspended over the fire.

‘What happened, did Phantom not
pass you the towel quick enough after your morning swim?’  Brutus asked,
eyeing her stony expression warily.

‘No, but Columbine tried to drown
me!’  Mistral snapped, pointing to the red marks around her throat.

‘She’s here?’  Brutus cried
and leapt to his feet.  ‘Where?’

‘Prospero and my brother are
chasing her, but I think she’ll be long gone.’  Phantom frowned. 
‘This campsite is like a maze.’  

‘We’ll see about that. 
Prospero could find a needle in a haystack.’  Mistral muttered and dropped
down near the fire to wait for Xerxes to finish cooking breakfast.

‘So, you were swimming when she
attacked?’  Xerxes asked casually while he carried on stirring the
porridge.

Mistral gave him an icy look,
‘What of it?’

‘Not dressed?’ 

‘No Xerxes, I always swim fully
clothed!  Of course I wasn’t dressed!’  Mistral snapped, adding
maliciously.  ‘And neither was Columbine.’

Xerxes’ leer slid away to be
replaced by a look of repulsion, ‘Did you have to ruin it?’

‘Yes!  And if I
ever
see you looking at me with that expression on your face again I will kill you
with the smallest, bluntest object I can find!’

‘Sorry sister, it’s in my blood.’

‘That’s Lady De Winter to
you!  Now where’s my damned breakfast?  I’m starving!’

Xerxes laughed and ladled out
some porridge for her, ‘So are you still racing this morning or are the twins
going to lock you in the tent until Columbine has been found?’

‘Racing of course!’ 

Phantom frowned at her over his
bowl of porridge, ‘I think that we should probably wait until my brother gets
back before we agree to anything Mistral.’  

Mistral ignored him and
concentrated on her breakfast.  Silence reigned until Saul and Cain
emerged from the tent looking dishevelled and grumpy.

Brutus looked up with a grin,
‘Too much wine last night?’ 

‘Apparently.’  Cain
muttered, rubbing his head with a pained expression. 

‘What did we miss after Mistral
ruined our night for us?’  Phantom asked, giving Mistral and pointed look.

‘Only the usual when a group of
Arcanes get together and drink too much.  The fight got broken up. 
Hermes gave the goblin back his money and we made friends, then to celebrate
our new friendship we had  a drink … and another … then Grendel started
dancing with the nymphs on the tables and broke one –’

‘A nymph?’  Mistral asked
hopefully.

‘No Mistral, a table.  Then
the dryads from the registration tent came over and started shouting at the
nymphs … something about impropriety … and they started fighting –’