The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams) (5 page)

Mistral
frowned as she looked around the tavern, ‘How do they all know when to come to
the Valley now?  I mean, it’s not like the Ri advertise when training’s
about to begin.’

The twins
looked at her curiously. 

‘So, not
raised by your tribe then?’ 

Mistral took a
drink from her goblet of wine to hide her face and shook her head.  She
had not talked about her dull upbringing and had no real wish to. 
Everyone she had met so far seemed to have been raised by their Arcane parent
and had much more interesting stories of their lives to tell than she had.

‘All of the
Arcane tribes know of the Ri because most warriors are of Arcane blood. 
Its only sorcerers that treat the Ri as some kind of an unclean word, like
they’re ashamed of the Ri doing their dirty work for them,’ said Phantasm with
a rare scowl.

‘What do you
mean; “dirty work”?’  Mistral asked.

‘Most of the
Contracts the Ri undertake are issued by the Mage Council – hunting, tracking,
mercenary work, assassinations.  In short, anything they want clearing up
or hiding gets given to the Ri to sort out.  The Ri are like a cleaning
service to them.’

They all
looked up as the door opened again and a colossal form filled the
doorway.  The figure was so large that he had to bend his head to
enter.  Mistral found herself staring in frank amazement at him.  He
was massive, in every way; taller than anyone she had ever seen and broader,
with a kind of solidness that spoke of great strength.  He was also
incredibly ugly with a large domed head sat on top of a thick neck.  He
slouched across the room, his long arms swinging slackly by his immense sides.

‘Who is
that?’  Mistral asked with a gasp as a smell like an open sewer hit
her.  

‘Grendel,’
Phantom muttered shortly.  ‘He’s staying in the hayloft, which is why you
haven’t met him yet.’

‘Lovely chap,’
murmured Phantasm into his drink.

Mistral
narrowed her eyes at Phantasm.  She was beginning to notice that he never
seemed to say exactly what he meant and felt it was time for a little bit of
the truth to be told.  Focussing her attention on the air around his sleek
blonde head, she slowed her breathing and forced her mind to empty of every
thought until it was calm and blank.  Slowly, like steam rising from hot
earth after rain, a fine mist of colour began to appear around Phantasm’s head
as his aura revealed itself to her sight.  A cloud of deepest royal blue
tinged with silver encircled him just as she had expected; purpose and
excitement.  Staring deeper into the blue veil Mistral could just make out
turquoise streaks of amusement and then, as she had hoped, Phantasm’s true
feelings towards the newcomer were exposed in a violent splash of bright
orange.

She blinked
and laughed as the vision vanished, ‘Liar,’ she said confidently to Phantasm.

He frowned
over the rim of his tankard at her, ‘Excuse me?’

‘He revolts
you!’ she said.  ‘I’ve seen it.’

Phantasm put
down his tankard and stared at her with open interest. 

‘You can read
auras?’

Mistral nodded
smugly and took another drink from her goblet.

Phantom eyed
her for a moment then let out a low whistle, ‘Really?  You’ll be a
nightmare to play cards with then.’

‘But, before
you go getting a superiority complex –’

‘Which really
wouldn’t suit your modest and retiring personality –’

‘We must tell
you that you are not alone in having a special skill –’

‘Quite, you
see, my brother and I are gifted too –’

‘Is it the
power to annoy people to death?’  Mistral interrupted irritably.  She
hated it when they shared a conversation like that.  It was hard to follow
and their ability to finish each other’s sentences was more than a little
disturbing.

‘No, she got
that one,’ said Phantom with a wince when an irritatingly high-pitched peal of
laughter rang out across the room.

‘We,’ said
Phantasm leaning across the table and speaking in a low voice, ‘possess the
power to influence thoughts!’

Mistral
scoffed into her goblet of wine.

The twins
looked offended.  ‘Want us to prove it?’  Phantom demanded.

‘No thanks,’
said Mistral quickly then cringed at another loud squeal of laughter. 
‘But you could try getting whoever’s laughing like a wounded donkey to
shut-up!  It’s giving me a headache.’

‘That’s
Golden,’ Phantom said with a disdainful look on his face.

‘Have you met
her yet?’  Phantasm asked.

‘No,’ said
Mistral, looking around vaguely.  ‘Which one is she?’

The twins
leaned apart slightly to allow Mistral a clear view across the room. 
Sitting at a table right in the centre of the room was the strangest pairing
Mistral had ever seen.

One obviously
had nymph in her blood-line; she was tall and slender with flawless alabaster
skin and long silky blonde hair that fell in smooth waves to the middle of her
back.  Mistral guessed she must be the one called Golden since the name
fitted perfectly.  Her companion was the complete opposite to her radiant
beauty.  Squat and dark-featured, she blinked up at Golden in a way that reminded
Mistral of a toad caught in bright sunlight.  Her heavy features were
strangely misshapen, like wax that had melted and set again.  Golden
laughed again and turned her head to flip her long hair, catching Mistral’s
curious gaze in the process.  Giving Mistral an openly contemptuous look,
she swung around to face her companion and firmly turned her back to Mistral.

Phantom gave a
theatrical gasp, ‘Oh my!  I’m surprised you haven’t been turned to stone
by that look Mistral!’  

‘Quite a
reaction wasn’t it?’  Phantasm raised an eyebrow.  ‘It appears that
Golden doesn’t appreciate competition.’

Mistral
scowled, ‘Meaning what?’

‘I rather
think she likes being the centre of attention Mistral.  You can quite
clearly see that her companion is less attractive than a mud slug, but you,
however,’ Phantasm tilted his head and regarded at her thoughtfully, ‘are quite
pretty when you smile.’

Mistral pulled
a face and turned her attention back to her drink, ‘Remind me never to smile
again then because I didn’t come here to learn how to look pretty.  But
talking of pretty … who’s the raging beauty sat with her?’

‘Columbine,’
said Phantasm with a slight grimace.  ‘She’s of gargillian blood, which
aren’t very pleasant creatures.  They have the nick-name “Jenny Green Teeth”. 
If you’re unlucky enough to catch her snarling then you’ll notice the
distinctive greenish tinge to her teeth.’

‘Lovely,’
murmured Mistral faintly.

Phantom
laughed and leaned back in his chair, surveying the gathered newcomers with a gleam
in his eye.

‘I do hope
there are some card players in that bunch!  With our skills we’re going to
make a fortune!’  Leaning forward suddenly he fixed Mistral with a
mischievous look and whispered to her, ‘Tell me what Golden is thinking!’

Mistral sighed,
‘I’m not really up for doing party tricks, and anyway, I can only see what
she’s feeling, not what she’s thinking.’

‘It’s pretty
much the same thing isn’t it?’ said Phantom, looking slightly sulky before
suddenly leaning across the table on his elbows, resting his chin on his folded
hands.  ‘Go on ... please,’ he wheedled and smiled beatifically at her.

‘Your charms
don’t have the same effect on me as they do on sad old seamstresses!’
 Mistral shook her head but grinned all the same.  ‘Oh, I suppose a
quick peek won’t hurt –’

Phantom’s face
erupted into a wide grin.  He leaned back in his chair again, settling
into a more comfortable position before gazing expectantly at Mistral.

Mistral
glanced between the twins at Golden’s back.  It didn’t matter that the
half-nymph wasn’t facing her, eye-contact wasn’t necessary to read a person’s
aura.  Forcing her attention on the shiny blonde hair of Golden’s head,
Mistral slowed her breathing and emptied her mind of every thought, blocking
out the conversations going on around her and the constant clunk of tankards
hitting table-tops until a gentle haze began to shimmer into view above
Golden’s head.  Breathing deeply, Mistral focussed on the aura until it
became clearer and then suddenly, it was there. 

A swathe of
pink encircled Golden’s head, tighter rings of deepest ruby swirled within it
like wheels within wheels, spinning with dizzying speed.  Mistral narrowed
her eyes, fighting against a sudden wave of nausea to see smaller rings flying
around madly inside the ring of ruby, a vivid lime green and a smaller slower
moving ring of brown, spinning in the opposite direction.  Blinking
quickly to break the sickening vision, Mistral groaned and dropped her head
into hands as her own head span.  Reaching blindly for her goblet she took
a large gulp, sighing with relief when the heat of the drink began to settle
her churning stomach.

‘What did you
see?’  Phantom was almost beside himself with excitement, gripping the
sides of his chair to stop himself from leaping up.

‘Never, ever
ask me to read her again,’ Mistral muttered.  ‘That was worse than when I
drank too much home-made cider as a child –’

‘A story I
would
love
to hear!’  Phantom hissed.  ‘But back to the
present day if you please!’

Mistral sighed
and set her goblet back down on the table.  Squinting cautiously up at
Phantom’s eager face she was pleased to see that the room had stopped spinning.

‘Take your
time,’ Phantasm said gently.  ‘Ignore my brother.  He’s always been
the more excitable one.’

‘She’s got a revolting
aura,’ said Mistral, pulling a repulsed face.  ‘It spins round crazily
like a whirlwind … but in different directions … really horrible –’

The twins said
nothing but Phantom looked as though he was going to explode.  Mistral
sighed again and fiddled absently with the stem of her goblet while she
repeated her vision.

‘Loads of
pink; that’s love, but I couldn’t say who for ... maybe her new companion,
maybe herself ... you see why I didn’t want to read her aura?  It’s all
too ambiguous … a ring of ruby signifying desire for something or someone … a
really vile shade of lime green which indicates strong envy … or greed, oh and
a small amount of brown representing a dislike for something or someone …
again, I can’t say either way,’ Mistral shrugged and picked up her goblet,
draining the remnants in one swallow.

Phantom looked
frustrated and ecstatic at the same time, his face worked comically while he
tried to apply explanations to the various emotions Mistral had seen in
Golden’s aura.

‘Don’t
bother,’ Mistral sighed.  ‘You can waste hours of your life trying to work
out why someone is feeling what they are, or who it’s about – in the end you
just have to give up or it’ll send you mad … or I suppose you could just pop
over and ask her.’   

Phantom’s face
cleared suddenly as he seriously considered her suggestion and looked about to
rise from his seat when the door to the tavern suddenly opened with a dramatic
bang.  A tall, broad-shouldered figure stood framed in the dark
doorway.  He paused for a moment then stepped into the tavern and strode
confidently over to the bar, closely followed by three burly figures.  An
expectant hush immediately fell across the tavern as all eyes were drawn to the
imposing figure and his menacing entourage.

‘Master
Sphinx,’ breathed Phantasm, his eyes fixed on their Training Captain. 

Mistral looked
curiously at their fair-haired Training Captain.  His ice-blue eyes swept
the room appraisingly, pausing to linger briefly on Golden who arched her
eyebrow provocatively and stared brazenly back. 

‘Apprentices
of the Ri.  Welcome to the Valley,’ Leo Sphinx spoke in a ringing voice
that filled the room.  ‘Tomorrow you are all invited to the Main Hall to
Register your intention to commit a year of your lives to becoming a Ri warrior. 
I will see you all at first light.  Do not be late.’ 

Turning
abruptly on his heel, he swept from the room with his three scowling
Lieutenants following in his wake.

‘Early night
then,’ said Phantasm with a sigh.  He placed his tankard down on the table
and made to rise to his feet before pausing and giving Mistral a hopeful
look.  ‘Shame really, I’d got another game with Xerxes planned and I was
hoping to have Mistral sat next to me so she could read him and tell me what he
was feeling before I bet.’

‘Not ever
going to happen,’ said Mistral shortly.  ‘I might end up reading how he
felt about the dinner he’d eaten and not the cards in his hand.  Then it’d
be all my fault when you lost your money.’

‘Fine, fine,’
said Phantom grumpily and stood up, waiting for his brother to join him. 
‘Boring early night it is then … see you at some hideously early hour –’

Mistral
watched them go and sighed, leaning back on her chair and swinging her feet up
onto the chair that Phantom had vacated.  She was tired but not ready for
bed yet.  She sipped at her goblet, content to lazily watch the other
apprentices talking excitedly about Registration when a tall dark figure
suddenly appeared before her.  It was an apprentice she hadn’t met yet,
the one who Phantom had claimed had yarthkin blood.

‘Mind if I sit
down?’ he asked, smiling easily at her.

‘Help
yourself,’ Mistral said, swinging her feet from the chair and sitting up.

‘Saul,’ he
introduced himself with another smile.

‘Mistral,’ she
replied, looking at him curiously.  He looked more like a sorcerer than an
Arcane, his pale skin and dark eyes reminded her of someone she had met before
but couldn’t place.

Saul nodded
towards a table near the back of the room where Xerxes, Brutus and Cain were
playing a game of knucklebones. 

‘Sorry to ask
this, but Xerxes has a bet on that you and one of the twins are an item. 
I’ve been sent to establish the truth,’ he shrugged and had the grace to look
slightly abashed.