The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams)

by Jones, Kirsten

  Xerxes watched the blonde twirling a strand of hair through her fingers while she giggled at Brutus, ‘I hope so. Then they won’t complain so much about my apparent lack of morals, or whatever the latest slur is on my good name.’

  Cain laughed and turned to watch Mistral throwing her opponent to the ground, ‘You know what brother, you’re lucky Mistral isn’t a feminist or she might’ve had some of your anatomy for jewellery by now.’

  Xerxes flinched, ‘Ouch! You’re making my eyes water!’

  ‘Talking of eyes watering, I’m not sure that first year is going to be able to walk after what Mistral just did to him –’

  Xerxes turned to see the new Training Lieutenant, Nereus, hurrying over to where Mistral was apologetically helping the apprentice to his feet. They watched Nereus begin to yell at her while she stood still, nodding absently and gazing into space over his shoulder.

  ‘She’s got that down to a fine art now.’ Cain commented.

  Xerxes grunted, ‘She’s had enough practise at riding out the windswept treatment over the last couple of years. I don’t envy her. It used to drive me insane having to stand there and take abuse from Caleb and Barak. I wanted to kill them!’

  ‘His Leoship is worse. He does that whole icy death-stare thing. It’s really unnerving.’

  ‘Oh, here she comes. Got time for a game of cards?’ Xerxes jumped down from the fence and called out to Mistral.

  ‘Maybe later. I’ve been summoned to go and see the Divinus.’ Mistral said with a roll of her eyes.

  ‘We’ll walk with you.’ Cain offered, automatically falling in step beside her.

  Mistral gave him an irritated look, ‘Don’t you think you’re taking this a bit far now? I’m sure I can walk up the path to the Main Building without being kidnapped by a marauding gang of Rochfortes.’

  ‘You can glare all you want Mistral but I’m far more frightened of Mage Grapple than you, and his instructions were most specific.’

  ‘Well I’ll be having a shower first, do you want to accompany me for that too?’ she snapped then glared at Xerxes. ‘Don’t even bother to answer that one Xerxes!’

  Xerxes laughed and began to hum his favourite goblin song. Mistral scowled to herself and ignored him. Fabian had only been gone for two days and already her brothers were suffocating her with overprotectiveness. She knew they felt responsible for her abduction and were desperate to make amends, but at this rate she was going to kill one of them out of sheer frustration.

  They walked into the Entrance Hall to be greeted by the stern features of the Ri’s Contracts Officer, Gleacher Shacklock.

  ‘Ah, Xerxes, Cain … good, could you please gather the rest of your brothers and meet me in my office immediately.’

  Xerxes and Cain watched Gleacher Shacklock’s tall figure retreat down the corridor then shared a puzzled look.

  ‘What’s that about? We’re signed up with Scrimshaw! We don’t take Training Contracts anymore!’ exclaimed Xerxes, looking offended. ‘It’s nothing short of a deliberate insult!’

  ‘I smell his Leoship behind this one.’ Cain muttered darkly.

  ‘Love to help, but I have my own problems right now.’ Mistral sighed heavily and began to climb the stairs. ‘See you in The Cloak later –’ she called, vanishing around a curve in the stairs.

  Mistral paused quickly to throw her weapons on her bed and let Prospero out of her room. Since Fabian had gone she had been forced to lock him away during training sessions as he’d suddenly taken it upon himself to attack whoever she was training with. She hurried into her bathroom for a rapid, ice-cold shower before dressing hastily and running up to the third floor where the Magnate each had a tower room. Slowing to a walk when she reached the stairs to the Divinus’ bleak room she began to climb with a growing sense of trepidation. Since her return to the Valley she had thrown herself into all aspects of training with renewed vigour, mainly to try and blot out the clawing ache of missing Fabian, but also in a determined effort to master her gift. Part of her training now included an hour in the company of the Divinus. Today was her first session and she wasn’t too sure what to expect.

  She knocked and listened carefully for the Divinus’ quiet order to enter. Drawing in a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped inside.

  ‘Good afternoon Mistral.’ the Divinus greeted her in his sighing voice. ‘Please, come closer.’

  Mistral took a couple of hesitant steps towards the frail figure on the high-backed wooden chair and halted, uncertain of what was expected of her during the hour of his time. In the short silence that followed his greeting Mistral gazed at the Divinus’ papery white skin. It looked so brittle that she almost expected it to crack whenever he spoke.

  ‘Before he left, Mage De Winter made a special request of me to see you for one hour a day until his return; to assist you –’

  I know! Like I haven’t had enough torture already …

  The Divinus stirred slightly at the unbidden thought in Mistral’s mind.

  ‘Forgive me Divinus. I meant no disrespect.’ Mistral mumbled quickly and cursed herself for not being more careful with her thoughts.

  The Divinus gazed unseeingly into space for a long moment before he spoke again.

  ‘Your apology is genuine. I am not offended by your impatient nature. However it does stand between you and your gift. You must temper your impetuosity before you can hope to embrace the lifelong commitment of Sight.’

  Mistral forced her mind to remain blank and not think the hundred negative retorts that instantly began to form.

  ‘Yes Divinus,’ she replied meekly.

  The Divinus sighed and stared sightlessly at her, his unsettling milky-white eyes always making Mistral feel as though he was looking straight at her. The silence lengthened into minutes while Mistral waited for him to speak again.

  ‘Er, do you wish me to read your aura?’ she finally asked.

  ‘No, I wish you to sit and listen.’

  Mistral looked around but there were no chairs or even any other pieces of furniture in the desolate room. Shrugging, she sat cross-legged on the floor and waited for the Divinus to begin.

  ‘Your Mage … he is travelling –’

  Mistral felt the breath freeze in her lungs. She stared at the Divinus with wide-eyes, ‘You See Fabian?’

  The Divinus nodded once and tilted his head slightly, as though listening to someone speaking in his ear.

  ‘The sun is warm … his horse is bothered by the flies.’

  Mistral watched him in silent rapture, drinking in every word; visualising Fabian, how Spirit would be kicking out irritably at the flies, how he would correct her with the slightest of touches …

  ‘He thinks of you … I See gold satin ribbons –’

  Mistral blushed and was careful to keep her mind blank when the Divinus smiled faintly and shifted on his throne-like chair.

  The hour passed too quickly for Mistral, sat entranced on the floor of the barren tower room listening to Fabian’s thoughts. Even the simplest of things such as Fabian suddenly realising that he was thirsty or noticing a change in the landscape was as soothing to her as the sound of his voice.

  When the Divinus eventually sighed wearily and motioned with one pale hand for her to stand, Mistral realised that her hour was up and she was being dismissed. She rose stiffly to her feet and gazed hesitantly at the Divinus, unsure of how to put into words how much the last hour had meant to her.

  The Divinus smiled and nodded, and for once Mistral was grateful for his ability to hear her every unspoken thought.

  ‘Can I come back tomorrow?’ she asked uncertainly.

  ‘Mage De Winter requested that you see me every day until he returns.’

  Mistral felt her face split into a wide grin that she knew the Divinus couldn’t see, but could also See more clearly than anyone else on the Isle. She floated towards the door in a state of blissful happiness, repeating in her mind every thought the Divinus had plucked from Fabian’s head and
spoken aloud for her to hear … gold satin ribbons featured more than once in her musings.

  Two storeys below her brothers were gathered around the desk in Gleacher Shacklock’s small office, gazing at the tall Contracts Officer with folded arms and hard expressions.

  ‘Training Contracts? Seriously?’ Xerxes raised his eyebrows.

  ‘These are not Training Contracts Xerxes but a selection of Group Contracts from all three agencies. Master Sphinx has requested you select one and in return you will each be paid the full Contracted amount, in cash, up front.’

  The atmosphere in the room shifted to one of disbelief.

  ‘Master Sphinx said that?’ Phantom frowned.

  Gleacher nodded curtly and spread a sheaf of parchments across the desk, ‘However, there are one or two special requirements that need to be added to any Contract you choose.’

  The twins shared a knowing look and Xerxes made a growling noise.

  ‘And what are these “special requirements” exactly Master Shacklock?’ Cain enquired carefully.

  Gleacher regarded him coldly, ‘Firstly, that the Contract you choose is taken by you all –’

  ‘Yes, a group Contract, we understood that part already.’ Xerxes snapped impatiently.

  Gleacher fixed him with a stony look, ‘The Contract must include Mistral. It must also be something that is both distracting and … safe,’ he finished stiffly.

  Cain looked at Gleacher, ‘Distracting and safe are not really two compatible concepts where Mistral is concerned.’

  ‘Now if you’d said “distracting and life-threatening” then we’d have been onto a winner.’ Xerxes agreed. ‘But I can’t really see anything that would be both of the things you want to a girl who tries to stab a cyclops to death with a short-bladed dagger just because she was a bit bored.’

  Gleacher nodded, ‘Exactly the type of situation Master Sphinx is trying avoid happening again. He understands that by her very nature Mistral will not stand being confined to the Valley for long, hence the supervised Contracts. And please note the word supervised. I cannot stress enough to you the importance of Mistral’s continued safety while the situation with the Rochfortes remains unresolved.’

  The warriors shared a look of surprise.

  ‘He’s letting her out?’

  ‘I guess it’s either that or risk her exploding again.’

  Cain smirked, ‘Make an awful mess for his Leoship to clean up –’

  ‘When you are in my presence I would prefer it if you could please refer to a member of the Magnate by their correct title and standing!’ Gleacher snapped frostily.

  ‘Sorry Master Shacklock, won’t happen again.’

  Brutus leaned over and spread the parchments across the desk, ‘Right, let’s see if we can find something that fits the quite frankly unattainable requirements of being both “distracting” and “safe” to old stroppy-pants herself.’

  They all laughed and leaned across the desk to select a Contract.

  ‘Knucker hunt.’ Brutus dropped the parchment onto the floor with a snort of disgust.

  ‘Bodyguarding.’ Phantasm looked up thoughtfully. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Sounds promising.’ Phantom peered over the top of the parchment in his brother’s hand. ‘On second thoughts forget it. That’s a Councillor known for his sympathies with the Rochforte tribe.’

  ‘Sounds ideal! We can get rid of another one!’ Xerxes rubbed his hands enthusiastically.

  ‘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.’