‘I may also have a less noble reason for agreeing for you to take this Contract,’ he frowned slightly. ‘Or do you know that already?’
‘Is it what you and Leo were arguing about on the ride north?’
Fabian nodded, his expression guarded.
‘Then, no, I don’t know.’ Mistral shook her head. ‘I blocked both of you out. It all got a bit too tedious to be honest.’
Fabian smiled, ‘Perfectly understandable. Nothing is less interesting than other’s quarrels. However, in my defense, I must point out that I know how much you hate to be confined to the Valley, even if it is for your own safety. This Contract presented you with an opportunity to achieve an ambition with both my protection and that of all of your brothers, and I had hoped that in doing so you would perhaps be more amenable to a request –’
‘Of yours or Leo’s?’ She interrupted, frowning at the thoughts she could hear in his mind.
Fabian said nothing but looked at her closely for a moment before he spoke, ‘How do you feel?’
‘Fine. Why?’ Mistral replied, looking slightly bewildered at the abrupt change in subject.
‘Well, there is one way we can know whether any plans have been made to try and have you and the twins killed – if you are feeling well enough to try that is –’
‘There’s nothing wrong with me Fabian! Now what’s that I can hear in your mind? Something about Leo?’
Fabian hesitated, his expression slightly reluctant, ‘Do you think you could try to read into a mind remotely?’
She frowned, ‘Anywhere on the Isle? Like the Divinus could you mean?’
He nodded but kept quiet while she considered the question.
‘I don’t know … I haven’t really tried yet. I can hear you and my brothers, and probably Leo too, if it was absolutely necessary, but no-one else. Who did you have in mind anyway?’
Fabian hesitated.
‘Sorry, let me rephrase that. Who did Leo have in mind?’ Mistral amended irritably.
‘He’s keen for you to focus on Bellicose and Malachi.’ Fabian admitted. ‘However, I think it would be beneficial if we could also hear the thoughts of Christophe and Etienne Rochforte, however, I refused to allow Leo to ask you to try either until you felt well again.’
Mistral felt her shoulders droop at the prospect of dedicating the next year of her life to their personal obsessions; Leo’s paranoia about Malachi’s campaign and Fabian’s desire for revenge on Christophe and Etienne Rochforte. It was going to be a long year.
‘Can you recall their faces clearly enough to be able to reach into their minds?’ Fabian continued, oblivious to her dejected slump against his chest.
‘Oh, yes, perfectly,’ she responded with a sigh. Every detail of Etienne and Christophe’s faces staring in horror at their dead cousin on the floor of the Council chamber was indelibly etched into her memory.
‘Then we shall start with those two when we have finished today’s trek,’ he concluded in satisfied tone. ‘Now, back to the matter in hand.’
‘Dragons.’
‘Yes, Mistral, the small matter of the two female dragons we’ve been Contracted to cull.’
Mistral untwined herself from his arms and smiled. Taking his hand they walked together into the cabin to catch the end of a conversation about dragons. Mistral’s mind was instantly inundated with curious thoughts from Phantasm which she ignored and focused instead on what Phantom was saying.
‘– and if the claws and teeth don’t get you there’s the breath to watch out for!’
‘Is it worse than Prospero’s?’ Mistral asked, wandering over to the fire to warm up again.
‘Infinitely! According to that book we read, dragon breath is a powerful narcotic. One blast of that and you’re off to sleep while they enjoy a meal! Mind you, if you’ve got to the being breathed on stage, you’re pretty much already a goner.’
‘Narcotic breath is a bit of a waste of time isn’t it?’ Cain asked with a frown. ‘Surely they’d just toast you instead!’
‘Only the males breathe fire.’ Fabian said quietly.
Mistral suddenly remembered an unusual scar he had on one of his arms, rippled like sand at low tide. A burn.
‘Right, time to get furry!’ Xerxes started throwing random items at each of them, a long hat with a white fur trim landed on Cain’s head making him look even more pixie-like, eliciting a roar of laughter from his brothers.
Mistral walked over to Xerxes and picked out the suede trousers Brutus had held up to her earlier then started to grab items without really looking at them.
‘Allow me.’ Phantasm’s cool voice murmured in her ear. ‘Then you can just relax and tell me all about why you felt the need to shiver on the doorstep to talk to your Mage.’
Mistral sighed and let Phantasm take over while she pulled the suede trousers on over her own, ‘You’ll laugh I know, because I’m sure you two saw this days ago, but it’s just dawned on me that I’ve practically painted big targets on us and sent us out into an archery contest at the wrong end!’
Phantasm said nothing for a moment but continued to pluck items from the pile of fur in front of him, ‘There, these should fit,’ he finally turned to face her, meeting her troubled look with a smile. ‘Of course we knew it. But Mistral, if we weren’t together on this particular Contract then it would only be another one, more than likely at the Council. And I think I fancy my chances of staying alive on a dragon hunt more than if it were a Contract to spend time with some of the Councilors I’ve met! We’re just going to have to face the truth here. We’re all going to be looking over our shoulders until the Rochfortes are either annihilated or brought under Mage Grapple’s rule, so please stop being such a martyr and put these on, we’re already late!’
By the time Mistral had completed pulling on boots, hat, gloves, scarf, a fur-lined jerkin and finally a long cloak she was feeling slightly suffocated by all the extra clothing, ‘Now I know how Cirrus feels when he gets his winter coat!’
Phantasm tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, running a critical eye over her before he finally smiled, his angelic face glowing with the look she detested; the one where he was pleased with the outfit he’d dressed his life-size doll in, ‘You know Mistral, white does suit you. You should wear it more often.’
‘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 Pros
pero, 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.’
&nb
sp; ‘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.
The Seer Page 20
