The Seer

by Kirsten Jones

They reached the top of the stairs and joined Leo and the twins.

  ‘What do you require of us today Master Sphinx?’ Phantasm enquired quietly while they waited to be greeted.

  ‘To observe only. Today is merely a formality. I will be declaring my intention to stand as the next Divinus and no decision will be made today. However, it will provide me with the opportunity to know how much favour my case is met with, therefore I will need to know everything that you See,’ he looked at Mistral briefly. ‘So please try to concentrate.’

  Mistral kept her face blank and nodded. Insults from Leo were such an expected part of his speech pattern that they barely registered with her anymore. Fabian’s thoughts rushed into hers in an angry stream, he obviously didn’t share her indifference to Leo’s rudeness. She glanced at him and raised an eyebrow, giving him a half-smile of amusement to prevent him from arguing with his brother on the steps to the Council, mere minutes before they were supposed to present the Ri in a united and professional front. Fabian didn’t return her smile but held her hand more tightly, managing to walk through the open doors into the white marbled atrium with Leo’s wished for decorum. They entered the vast room to be met by the scarred and unsmiling features of Mage Grapple himself.

  Mistral watched Mage Grapple greet Leo cordially and realised with a jolt that she was looking at father and son. She studied them more carefully, looking for similarities. There were none at first glance. Mage Grapple’s heavily scarred face left no evidence of the features that must once have been handsome and compelling enough to have drawn Fabian’s mother to him. Admittedly, he and Leo were of the same build, straight-backed and broad shouldered and both bore themselves with characteristic regality that spoke of a liking for power. Although Leo’s blue eyes must have come from his mother, the iciness in them was reflected exactly in Mage Grapple’s cold grey stare. She concentrated harder, calling forth the image of their auras before pushing her mind further, to See. She listened first to Leo and then to Mage Grapple. Their thought patterns were mirror images, both unemotional and utterly logical but whereas Leo’s burned with a strong desire to achieve his ambitions, Mage Grapple’s were focussed on maintaining the ambitions he had already achieved.

  She looked at them again, father and son, and was suddenly struck by the blatantly obvious likeness that she was surprised the atrium wasn’t filled with shouts of recognition. Mistral blinked and let their auras vanish from sight and instantly the similarity faded. It was their thoughts that made them so alike, and only she could See them.

  Mage Grapple greeted Fabian briefly before turning to speak to her and the twins, ‘I cannot permit your presence in the chambers today. It will not meet with protocol to allow a Seer and the Gemini to be present. You must wait outside whilst De Winter accompanies the candidate.’

  Mistral was left staring at his black robed figure sweeping across the atrium with a mixture of irritation and relief.

  Fabian immediately turned to face her, taking hold her hands and holding her gaze with eyes of darkest night, ‘I will be back as quickly as I can,’ he promised, touching his lips to hers in the briefest of caresses before he was gone, striding across the atrium to join Leo and Mage Grapple at the door to the Council chamber.

  Mistral watched him go with a sudden ache of longing. It was frightening her how much she missed him when he wasn’t there, yet how much she completely took him for granted when he was. Like a part of her body, something so integral to her very being it was only in absence she realised how great her need truly was.

  ‘Come on Lady De Lovelorn.’ Phantom teased and grabbed her arm, wheeling her around to march her out of the atrium and into the cold empty courtyard. ‘We know our place in this riveting affair.’

  A Trip to the Ballet

  An hour later they were still sat on the steps outside the Council waiting for Fabian and Leo to return. Conversation had given way to long periods of bored silence. Phantom had paced the top step until Mistral was sure he had worn a groove into the marble.

  ‘Well, I never thought that being the three most gifted beings on the Isle would be quite so uneventful,’ he grumbled and dropped down to sit beside Mistral.

  Mistral blew her cheeks out and gazed listlessly across the Council courtyard, ‘Do you think we could sneak off and join the others?’

  Phantasm sighed wearily, ‘For the twentieth time – no.’

  ‘They could have at least put some chairs out here for us.’ Phantom complained, shifting uncomfortably on the stone step.

  Mistral turned the point of her sword in the thin layer of snow at her feet and sighed in agreement.

  ‘How much longer do you think they’ll be?’ Phantasm asked with barely concealed irritation.

  Mistral lifted an eyebrow and looked disinterestedly over her shoulder at the huge black doors to the Council, letting her mind travel where her body could not, ‘Oh ages, they’re still going through the pleasantries,’ she muttered after a few seconds of listening to Fabian’s thoughts.

  The twins sighed deeply and Mistral continued to draw patterns in the snow with her sword, ‘I really am bored to tears,’ she finally exclaimed in disgust.

  ‘Go on, it’s been ages since you’ve had a cry … it’ll break the boredom up a bit, in fact, I think I might even join you!’ Phantom muttered bitterly.

  Another silence fell. Mistral yawned and tried to balance her sword on its point.

  ‘Just why are we stuck out here again?’ Phantom demanded crossly, resting his elbows onto his knees and dropping his chin into his hands.

  ‘They could’ve allowed us into the meeting.’ Phantasm agreed in an aggrieved tone. ‘I know we haven’t been overly forthcoming about the power of our gifts, but surely even that bunch of over-fed windbags realise we could run the cursed meeting from out here as easily as if we were standing in the middle of the room!’

  There was a long pause before Mistral pulled a face and shoved her sword roughly back into its holster on her back, ‘No, I’d rather be out here, at least I can talk to you two and not have to even pretend to be interested in their aimless drivel.’

  ‘What’s happening now?’ Phantom asked in a bored tone.

  Mistral heaved another sigh and let her thoughts turn to the meeting, her eyes misting over and her face becoming unintentionally blank as she Saw into the mind of her Mage, ‘The good ship Leo has set sail,’ she said with a roll of her eyes. ‘He’s delivering a speech … oh no! I can’t believe he actually said that!’

  ‘What?’ Phantom sighed, with a vague attempt at sounding interested.

  ‘“Endeavour to provide the Ri with the necessary leadership skills to lead us forward into a brighter future and further strengthen existing bonds with the Mage Council for the mutual benefit of the richly diverse lives of all who call the Isle a home.”’

  ‘Oh, it’s so embarrassing being here with him,’ groaned Phantom. ‘Who actually says that kind of tripe?’

  ‘Hmm, you’d never think that he and Mage De Winter were brothers.’ Phantasm mused. ‘I can’t imagine him coming out with a phrase like “leadership skills”.’

  ‘No, he’d be more likely to kill anyone in the room that disagreed with his “leadership skills”.’ Phantom added darkly.

  Mistral hid an indulgent smile and twisted the wedding ring on her finger, ‘Well I wish he’d kill that lot in there so we can get out of here,’ she sighed and sat up, stretching her arms above her head and yawning.

  ‘I usually don’t condone violence for the sake of it, but in this case, I think I’d actually go in and lend a hand,’ Phantom agreed.

  They sat in silence for a while. Mistral gazed dully around the courtyard. It was stark and austere, a direct reflection of Mage Grapple’s character. The only other occupants in the courtyard were two brooding warlocks on duty at the gate. She gazed at them indifferently, studying their long black robes and heavily hooded faces.

  ‘What’re they thinking?’ Phantom asked, following her gaze.


  Mistral lifted her eyebrows, ‘Let’s find out shall we brothers?’ she focussed her attention on the black cowls hiding their faces from view. After a few moments her brow creased into a small frown and she tilted her head, realigning her unfocussed gaze onto the two warlocks. ‘That’s odd.’

  ‘Do share.’ Phantasm murmured lethargically.

  ‘They’re not thinking anything,’ she frowned and blinked, focussing on Phantasm’s green eyes as he looked at her with a faint flicker of interest.

  ‘No, actually that makes perfect sense,’ he said, regarding the warlocks more closely. ‘They’re just empty vessels to be filled with the will of the ruling Mage, no more than tools, well, weapons really.’

  ‘It’s fortunate we have the steady hand of Mage Grapple ruling the Council,’ commented Phantom with a glance at the burly warlocks. ‘Imagine what Putreo would’ve done with them at his beck and call!’

  ‘Or a Rochforte.’ Phantasm added quietly.

  ‘Oh please, not another duller than dull subject!’ Mistral closed her eyes and sighed.

  They sat in silence for a few minutes until Phantom turned to Mistral with a glint of mischief shining in his green eyes, ‘Nothing in there at all you say?’

  ‘Emptier than a cask of ale after one of our card games in The Cloak,’ she confirmed flippantly.

  ‘So, totally open to a random suggestion just being popped in there then?’

  ‘Oh now brother, let’s not be childish.’ Phantasm chided softly. ‘We’re here representing the Ri. We simply cannot be seen to be misusing our gift in such a way,’ he added, but pursed his lips and gazed thoughtfully at the statue-like warlocks.

  Mistral ducked her head to hide the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She could hear his thoughts and knew he was already warming to the idea of a little amusement to distract them.

  ‘You know brother.’ Phantom said conversationally. ‘I’ve always thought the Council was a haven to the cultured arts.’

  ‘Ah, indeed. Theatre, dance –’

  ‘The ballet.’

  ‘Ah, the ballet,’ said Phantasm longingly. ‘Grace, power, precision. Such beauty.’

  ‘Have you ever been to the ballet Mistral?’ Phantom enquired politely.

  Mistral met his sincere green eyes and shook her head, looking sorrowful, ‘No, but I would so love to go. Maybe one day I will,’ she sighed wistfully.

  ‘Hear that brother?’ Phantom exclaimed in tones of mock horror. ‘Lady De Winter has never been to the ballet!’

  ‘It’s a tragedy that I feel should be rectified.’

  ‘With immediate effect,’ agreed Phantom firmly.

  Mistral bit her lips to stop herself from laughing out loud when the warlock on the right hand side of the gate sudden twitched and slowly raised its arms into an arc. It stood there frozen for a moment before silently lifting up onto the tips of its steel-capped boots and performing a slow pirouette.

  ‘Of course.’ Phantasm murmured. ‘A true dance takes two.’

  ‘Ah, the grace of a pas de deux,’ agreed Phantom with a simpering smile.

  Mistral snorted as the second Warlock shuffled gracelessly on the tips of its boots towards its companion, ‘What’s that move called where they bend their knees?’

  ‘Ah yes, a plié! Nice idea Mistral!’

  Pausing in front of its counterpart, still revolving in a slow pirouette, the warlock delivered a clumsy plié.

  Mistral choked back the bubble of laughter threatening to erupt as the first warlock ceased twirling and lowered its arms, placing both hands around the other’s middle it proceeded to lift the huge creature slowly above its head. With arms outstretched the second warlock held its body in an ungainly imitation of a bird in flight and hovered precariously in the air.

  ‘No more!’ Mistral gasped, giving in and laughing helplessly.

  ‘Brother, I feel that a suitably dramatic climax to the performance is in order.’

  ‘I agree. Nothing stirs the soul of the ballet lover like a grande jeté.’

  Still holding the second warlock above its head in an unnaturally stiff pose, the first warlock took three heavy strides and leapt through the air, doing the full splits and revealing frighteningly hairy legs in the process.

  Mistral was howling with laughter, tears streaming down her face, ‘Oh! That’s hideous!’ the warlock landed and dropped its partner onto the ground with a dull thud.

  ‘Are you ready?’

  Fabian’s soft voice made her jump and turn guiltily. She leapt to her feet, hastily wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

  ‘Mistral!’ Fabian ran lightly down the steps towards her. ‘Why have you been crying?’

  ‘It’s the boredom Fabian.’ Mistral avoided the twins’ eyes. ‘It just really got to me.’

  ‘Since when does boredom make you cry?’ Fabian frowned and glanced at the twins but their faces were carefully composed into expressions of brotherly concern, giving nothing away. He glanced across the courtyard and saw the dropped warlock lumbering to its feet. ‘Please tell me that you haven’t been amusing yourselves by goading the warlocks!’ he demanded in a low voice. ‘They are incredibly dangerous and violent creatures!’

  ‘I actually think they’re quite beautiful … graceful even.’ Mistral disagreed, forcing her face into a serious expression.

  Phantom snorted with laughter and Fabian glared at him before switching his gaze back to Mistral, giving her a long assessing look. She did her best to appear innocent but could hear his unspoken suspicions and couldn’t conceal a flash of guilt when she heard him correctly guess that they’d been using the twins’ gift to make the warlocks perform for their amusement.

  He caught her guilty look and narrowed his eyes, ‘I don’t think I want to know what you’ve been doing,’ he growled. ‘But I sincerely hope that you’ve done nothing to jeopardise the reason we are here.’

  ‘Please rest assured that we have behaved with impeccable propriety Mage De Winter.’ Phantasm lied effortlessly.

  Fabian raised an eyebrow and took hold of Mistral’s hand, pulling her up the steps towards the Council, ‘No more games,’ he muttered flatly, not looking at her while he strode through the open doors, towing her along beside him.

  ‘No Fabian,’ she quickly smothered a grin when she caught Phantom performing a plié for his brother. She glanced at Fabian to see if he had noticed but he was staring straight ahead, his beautiful dark eyes full of tension. She was instantly filled with guilt. There she was, the Ri’s Seer, taking part in childish pranks while her husband had selflessly endured a dull Council meeting for a future that he only cared about because he wanted to share it with her. ‘Fabian?’

  He turned to look at her, his face tightly drawn.

  Mistral looked into the eyes of the man she adored and bit her lip, ‘I’m sorry about that, er, slight deviation from my usual professional behaviour.’

  Fabian snapped his gaze round to stare rigidly straight ahead again and didn’t acknowledge her apology for a moment. They continued to walk across the gleaming white marble floor of the atrium in stiff silence, ‘What did the twins make them do? A dance of some kind?’ he finally demanded in a terse mutter.

  ‘Ballet actually.’ Mistral mumbled shamefully.

  Fabian’s lips twitched and Mistral stifled a smile, ‘I’m really sorry,’ she whispered.

  ‘No, I’m sorry Mistral.’ Fabian sighed and turned to look at her, raising her hand to his lips to brush the skin with a kiss. ‘I know how boring you find all this, and so do I! But it was vital that Leo’s case was presented following the correct protocol.’

  Mistral nodded, barely aware of a word he had spoken, she gazed into his velvet eyes, ‘I’ve never seen a ballet before,’ she murmured vaguely.

  ‘More boring than twenty Council meetings in a row.’ Fabian replied with a smile.

  ‘I don’t know, the one I saw was quite entertaining.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it,’ he laughed softly and bent his head to
kiss her.

  ‘What is our remit in this devastatingly exciting affair?’ Phantom enquired, inconsiderately interrupting them as usual.

  Mistral sighed and slipped out of Fabian’s arms to take his hand and walk beside him again.

  ‘None.’ Fabian responded quietly and continued to walk across the atrium. ‘Leo has formally declared his intention to stand.’

  ‘We heard.’ Phantom rolled his eyes.

  ‘And now he has other business dealings to attend to which we are mercifully not required for, so –’ he left his sentence unfinished.

  ‘So?’ Mistral prompted half-heartedly, expecting news of more long waits or worse, a Council meeting to suffer.

  ‘So –’ Fabian repeated, suddenly smiling disarmingly at her.

  She frowned and then gasped out aloud at the thoughts she heard in his mind, ‘We’re finally free to hunt dragons?’

  Fabian laughed at her reaction, ‘Yes. But first you all need to register your names and collect the license. I’ll show you where to go.’

  ‘You’re not coming with me?’ Mistral’s face instantly fell.

  ‘Of course I am,’ he smiled at her dismayed expression and lifted a hand to gently stroke her cheek. ‘There’s a small matter I need to attend to first.’

  ‘Oh that –’

  ‘Yes. That,’ he finished quietly.

  She smiled and took his hand again, letting him lead her over to one of the featureless black doors set in the back wall of the atrium.

  ‘This is the office. I will join you shortly.’

  Mistral nodded then quickly reached up to whisper words of love into his ear before kissing him and stepping back, watching him stride away to disappear through one of the other doors.

  ‘Where, what and why?’ Phantom demanded irritably.

  Mistral grinned smugly at him, ‘Bet you wish you hadn’t nagged me to get my gift sorted now don’t you?’

  ‘Definitely. Now do share or I will get seriously tetchy.’

  ‘And that’s never a pretty sight.’ Mistral pulled a face. ‘Well, in answer to your question ... the vaults … a bag of money … to put it back,’ she answered succinctly.