The Seer (25 page)

‘In your dreams,’ she muttered and immediately scowled at Xerxes. 
‘Don’t even go there brother!’

Fabian looked up and smiled appreciatively at her.  She heard his
thoughts and rolled her eyes, ‘Not you too.  Right, where does your mother
live Brutus?  I think I’ll take Prospero over now and make sure he’s
settled in before we go.’

‘I’ll take you.’  Brutus’s voice was slightly muffled by the long fur
scarf he was winding around his neck.  ‘It’ll be easier than trying to
give you directions and anyway, I’m quite fond of your dog since we shared a
bath together.’

‘You did what?’  Mistral laughed, falling in step beside him as they
walked towards the door.

‘Well, nearly.  I had the job of bathing him for your wedding, and put
it like this, if I’d got in the wooden tub with him I think I’d have got less
wet!’

Mistral laughed and whistled Prospero while she followed Brutus out into
the empty village street.  They both paused to look over at the eastern
sky where the first streaks of pink were starting to show in the darkness.

‘We’d better hurry.  We need to be leaving soon.’  Brutus strode
off.  ‘It’s this way.’

They walked quickly down the street, pulling the fur-lined hoods of their
cloaks up against the bitter cold with Prospero trotting along quietly at their
heels.  Diannah’s house was indistinguishable from the other stone and
timber houses adjoining it.  Brutus paused on the spotless doorstep and
knocked lightly.  It was still very early but a light was glowing through
the downstairs window and Mistral was relieved to see Diannah opening the door
fully dressed.  She hadn’t particularly relished the thought of waking up
Brutus and Xerxes’ rather frightening mother to ask her to dog-sit Prospero,
who was actually half-wolf and had also just attacked a Council employee.

‘Good morning mother, I trust you slept well?’  Brutus enquired
solicitously.

‘Come in Brutus and –?’  Diannah raised an eyebrow questioningly at
Mistral.

‘My apologies, this is Mistral.’

Mistral’s smile of greeting froze on her lips as she met Diannah’s coldly
assessing look, ‘Er, nice to meet you?’  she managed to mumble. 

‘Likewise I’m sure.’  Diannah returned coolly and stepped back to
allow them into her home, not commenting on Prospero who padded softly in
behind Mistral and immediately headed for the fire.  Mistral followed
Brutus into a warm living room and instantly regretted the herd of chimera she
was wearing.

‘You must stay and have some breakfast, although I am surprised that you
are still here.’ Diannah followed them into the room a few moments later
carrying a tray of hot drinks.  ‘Do you have something important to tell
me Brutus?’ 

Brutus gave her a guiltily look, ‘Well, I would’ve come to say goodbye
anyway, but er, we do have a favour to ask actually –’

‘Oh Brutus!  No!  Not you as well!  Can’t you just
marry?  I don’t think I can lie for you as well as your wayward brother!’

Brutus and Mistral shared a confused look before Brutus’ face cleared and
he roared with laughter, ‘No mother!  Mistral’s already married!’

‘Then that’s even worse!’  Diannah cried, looking aghast.

‘Wait! I should’ve said
happily
married, to Mage De Winter in fact.’
 Brutus clarified, still grinning.

‘Oh!’  Diannah looked flustered and turned to Mistral.  ‘I do
apologise!  I thought my one good son had, well – Oh! What can I say to
excuse my stupidity La –’

‘It’s fine really!’ Mistral said quickly, ignoring Brutus’ grin.  ‘I’m
not offended, honestly.’

‘Well, now that’s sorted, would you mind looking after Prospero till we get
back?’  Brutus casually dropped the question while he passed Mistral a cup
from the tray.  ‘He’ll be no bother, I promise –’

Mistral took a sip while Brutus highlighted Prospero’s good points; it was
some kind of sweetened herbal brew that immediately sent a wave of nausea
crashing over her, ‘Can I use the bathroom?’  rising quickly to her feet
she fled from the room in the direction of Diannah’s pointed finger.  She
returned a short while later to see Prospero resting his head on Diannah’s
knee, drooling and staring fixedly at her piece of bread, oozing with butter
and ... Mistral slapped a hand to her mouth and ran straight back to the
bathroom, away from the cloying scent of honey. 

Diannah was stood with her son by the fire when Mistral finally walked
unsteadily back into the room and sank onto the sofa. 

‘Better?’  Brutus asked, looking concerned. 

‘Much,’ she lied and forced a smile.  ‘Sorry about that, it’s just
that honey disagrees with me.’

Brutus gave her a doubting look but wisely kept his mouth closed. 

‘I know that look.’  Diannah regarded her closely then smiled. 
‘I was that way with both my boys.’

‘No mother!’  Brutus shot her a pained look.  ‘Mistral is one of
us.
’

Diannah instantly looked mortified, ‘Oh heavens!  I do apologise –
again, oh dear!  I’m not doing very well this morning am I?’

‘Don’t worry about it.  We’ve got to go now.’ 

Brutus’ tone was sharp and Mistral glanced at him in surprise.  She
felt too ill to take in the exchange between Diannah and her son but could see
that Brutus was angry with her for some reason.  He bundled Mistral out of
the door, calling back curt instructions not to let Prospero near any Mages,
chickens, bears or female dogs.  Slamming the door behind them with
uncharacteristic bad-temper, he immediately began to stride back along the
street, dragging a bewildered Mistral along with him. 

‘Sorry Mistral, she didn’t mean to offend you.  You know what
full-bloods are like,’ he muttered angrily. 

‘S’fine Brutus.  Don’t worry about it.’ Mistral mumbled back, fighting
down another retch and failing she fell to her knees in the snow to be sick
again.

Brutus waited quietly until she had finished and then pulled her to her
feet, ‘You know you can’t go today Mistral.  You’re ill.’

‘Can go.’  Mistral whispered faintly.  ‘Be alright in … minute –’
she drew in a deep breath, the cleansing sharpness of the air easing the
churning in her stomach.  ‘It’s just Phantom’s cooking that’s all. 
He probably chucked a whole jar of honey in the damned porridge while he was
making it.’

‘Hmm.’ Brutus looked unconvinced.

Mistral narrowed her eyes at him, ‘Tell anyone, including that mouth on
legs you call a brother and I swear I’ll
beat
you to death at the first
opportunity – with something small, like a spoon.’

Brutus held his hands up and laughed, ‘As long as you promise not to
mention my mother’s two glorious slip-ups this morning!  I would hate for
her reputation of always being right to be ruined.’

‘My lips are sealed.’  Mistral agreed easily.  Apart from
accusing Brutus and her of having an affair, she couldn’t see what else Diannah
had said that was so bad. 

‘Not quite.’  Brutus tilted his head towards the stained snow. 
‘But, better out than in I always say.’

Mistral pulled a faced at him and stalked off.  Reaching the door to
the cabin before him she marched in and headed straight for the bathroom to
rinse her mouth out before Fabian came anywhere near her.  When she came
out the sense of excitement in the cabin had intensified until it was almost at
fever pitch.  Last minute preparations were being made in a rush of high
spirits; Xerxes was singing a song about dragons, his usual buoyant mood
resurrected by Fabian’s suggestion that he should lead the second party. 
Mistral looked at Fabian, so silent and serious while he packed his saddlebag,
yet he showed a side to her that no-one else would ever see; humorous, kind,
generous, selfless and intuitively compassionate about others emotions. 
She had no doubt that he had recommended Xerxes as leader to restore his
moral.  How, she wondered for the thousandth time, had she, an abandoned
half-breed, stubborn, reckless and irresponsible, been so fortunate to find
such love? 

‘Of course the queen is the one to be wary of.’  Phantom remarked from
the depths of the fur cloak he was pulling on.  ‘She’s the true herd
leader, not the male.’

‘Is she up for the chop then?’  Cain asked casually.

‘Not advisable.’ Fabian said curtly.  ‘The queen is, as Phantom says,
stronger than any male.  She holds the herd together when the males are
hibernating.  If we cull the queen the other females will either kill each
other or fly off to make a territory for themselves, leaving no females for the
males to breed with when they awake in the spring.’

‘Right, so how do we tell this queen apart from the others then?’

‘She’ll be much larger and a completely different colour.’  Phantom
advised knowledgably.  ‘The other females will still have their juvenile
skins, they’re a sort of greeny colour, according to the book, but the queen
will have her adult hide.  The book was a bit wishy-washy about the exact
colour.  It just gave some poetic drivel about “royal shades of the
queen’s hide” or something equally unhelpful.’

‘Red and gold.’  Fabian said quietly.  ‘The queen has red and
gold scales.’

Suddenly they were all leaving, walking towards the stables wrapped up in
their borrowed fur clothing to meet Castor and collect their three
bestra.  The two Mages were waiting for them, both swathed in full length
black fur cloaks.  Mage Powers wore his left arm in a sling and looked
pointedly at Mistral as she approached.

‘I hope you realise that I shall be formally reporting that savage and no
doubt illegal hybrid you’re trying to pass off as a dog to
the Department for
the Control and Maintenance of Dangerous and Endangered Beasts
!’

Mistral eyed him coldly, ‘Oh yes?  That’s your department isn’t
it?  And just who will you be reporting him to?  Yourself? 
Perhaps you should consider surviving the next couple of days before you make
such threats.’

‘Now who’s making threats?’  Mage Silver snarled.

‘Me.’ Mistral locked gazes with the Mage.  Forcing her anger to abate
she let his aura fill her mind.  It foamed into view in a swirling cloud
of black and red ...
no surprises there
… but his thoughts, well. 
They were a revelation in themselves.  She abruptly turned away and walked
over to where Fabian was talking with Castor, their conversation immediately
making her forget what she’d Seen.

‘I have instructed the retrieval party meet you at the base of the eastern
ridge.  They’ll have the log sled ready to carry the culled dragons. 
I’m sure you won’t have too much trouble moving them that far, on this
occasion.’  His gaze rested on Grendel, grunting loudly while he slung
heavy saddlebags full of provisions over the docile bestra.

Fabian nodded his thanks, ‘If you have no objections, I would like to use
the gift of the Gemini to inform you of our progress.  It will save your
kinsmen having to camp out unnecessarily.’

Castor dipped his head in acceptance, ‘Most considerate of you, my
friend.  It only leaves me to wish each of you a safe return.  Who
knows?  Maybe this cull will be the one!’  He laughed warmly and
clapped Fabian on the back before turning and striding away across the street.

‘What did he mean by that?’  Mistral asked curiously.

Fabian gazed at her steadily, ‘There are always losses on this Contract
Mistral.  That’s why it’s so highly paid.’

She said nothing but immediately looked over at her brothers.  Xerxes,
so proud, whistling a jaunty tune while he checked his bow, his brother
laughing at him; the twins, swathed in fur, only their beguiling green eyes
visible beneath their hoods; Cain’s impish smile as he showed Grendel the full
gourds of liquor he’d saved for the journey.  Which one wouldn’t be coming
back?  Finally she turned to look at Fabian, meeting the dark velvet gaze
that never failed to rob her of all her senses.  To lose him would be
utterly unthinkable.  

They left the village just as the first rays of sun erupted over the
eastern horizon, illuminating the mountains in a dazzling blaze of gold. 
Fabian led them along a rough track towards the Northern Range.  Mistral
walked beside him with the twins following, talking quietly between
themselves.  Next came Xerxes, Brutus and Cain, leading the bestra by
their rope halter, behind them were the two silent Mages.  Grendel stomped
along at the back, doing his best to repeatedly tread on the back of the Mages’
long fur cloaks.  Mistral glanced repeatedly at the three bestra. 
She couldn’t help feeling sorry for them, knowing what their fate was going to
be.  They were dull, biddable creatures whose only discernible feature was
a large single horn protruding from between their ears, the rest of their
bodies were covered in coarse hair that hung to the ground in thick twisted
locks the colour of mud.  Xerxes was singing a love song to his bestra,
making his brother and Cain laugh.  The twins were gossiping about yet
another Councilor Mistral had never heard of and didn’t want to if what they
were saying was true.  Grendel was humming loudly to himself to the
obvious discomfort of both Mages who had still not spoken since leaving the
village.  Fabian and Mistral spoke little, but both were entirely at ease
with silence and anything Fabian really wanted her to know she heard in his
thoughts anyway.