The Seer

by Kirsten Jones

  ‘Another one of those mysterious vanishings that will go unsolved due to lack of proof,’ said Phantasm quietly. ‘Mage Grapple is well aware that Bellicose and his tribe take advantage of the winter snows to pick off isolated tribes, but he can’t act without any evidence. And as you rightly pointed out, there never is any.’

  ‘Never mind the doom and gloom! What about his plans?’ Phantom asked eagerly.

  ‘Double-cross and then some.’ Mistral smiled bitterly. ‘That’s his plan! He thinks that he has enough immunity to my gift to conceal his thoughts, and yours too, so we need to try it out at the first opportunity –’

  ‘Hang on.’ Phantom interrupted with a perplexed look. ‘Why would he think he had any sort of defense against your gift, never mind ours?’

  ‘Malachi knows that I couldn’t read his aura last year. He must’ve seen me trying during my lessons with him and worked out that he was protected by his vampire blood. Anyway, he’s assumed that it offers him some protection from Sight too ... and he definitely thinks that I won’t be able to read him without physically being able to see him because he’s been totally free with his thoughts since I’ve left the Valley – which made interesting listening I can tell you. Oh, there’s been another small bonus.’ Mistral gave a small smile. ‘Malachi must’ve told Bellicose that vampire blood offers protection against my gift, because he also thinks that I can’t read him. But I can.’

  The twins shared a look of triumph but kept quiet while Mistral continued to relate everything she’d Seen.

  ‘Bellicose is planning to assist Malachi in becoming the next Divinus by any means necessary … and I mean by any means necessary, but Malachi is holding him off. Even Malachi knows that having his father suck the life out of anyone that doesn’t seem inclined to vote in his favour won’t do much to increase his popularity. Once Malachi is installed as the new Divinus with us in his employ and a nice seat at the Council … and you’re really not going to believe this next bit … but Bellicose is planning to replace Mage Grapple.’

  ‘With who?’ Phantom asked sharply.

  ‘With himself brother.’ Phantasm murmured, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. ‘But how?’

  ‘With our help of course.’ Mistral sighed. ‘Bellicose plans to force us to do his bidding by threatening those closest to us ... Fabian, Melsina – he even knows the names of our brothers. Malachi has been feeding him information about us for months, since before I had even gained the Sight actually. They’ve been planning this for a long time.’

  ‘Hence the money making operation with the potions.’ Phantasm said. ‘Mage De Winter has suspected as much for a while now. I should imagine Master Nox is becoming insufferable at the prospect of all his plans finally coming to fruition.’

  Mistral nodded, ‘Hmm, Fabian’s been asking me to read him a lot this week and, you’re right, he’s been even more smug than usual.’

  ‘Told you that’s what she’s been doing all week!’ Phantom muttered under his breath.

  Phantasm shot him a warning look and turned back to Mistral, ‘You mentioned that Master Nox is planning a double-cross?’

  She rolled her eyes, ‘Oh is he ever! You remember the anti-Council eulogy Malachi gave at the Divinus’ funeral?’

  The twins nodded.

  ‘Well, he’s intending to gain the support of the warriors and win the elections held in the Valley based on the notion that he’s going to sever all ties to the Council … and he’s even going to lead them to believe that one day the Ri will challenge the Council for rule of the Isle! But here’s the double-cross; in reality he and Bellicose scheme to rule between them.’

  ‘Bellicose La Monte as the Head of the Council and Master Nox as Divinus of the Ri? Now there’s a chilling scenario!’

  ‘I know! It’s a future so dire it’s almost laughable and I unwittingly gave Malachi a head start by forcing Leo to give me the cull!’ Mistral shook her head angrily.

  ‘Hmm, regrettable, but I’m sure we can resurrect our gleaming leader somehow.’ Phantasm said. ‘But never mind that now; tell me what’s been happening in the Valley since we left.’

  ‘Not a lot. Thankfully the heavy snow’s halted Scrimshaw and Scuttle’s messenger service, so Malachi’s request for dragon blood hasn’t made it to the Council yet. No-one knows about the cull, so for the moment, Leo’s still as popular as he ever was.’

  ‘Not very then.’

  Mistral shrugged, ‘You know how it is with Leo, no-one likes him but everyone respects him.’

  ‘Have you read him recently?’

  ‘Only when Fabian asks.’ Mistral pulled a face. ‘He’s stuck at the Council and is pretty peeved with us for getting snowed-in up here. I take it you two informed him?’

  The twins nodded in unison. ‘First thing your Mage asked us to do once he knew you were going to survive swan-diving off a mountain ledge into a dragon’s open mouth.’ Phantom remarked cheerfully.

  ‘Thanks for reminding me about that.’ Mistral wrapped her arms around her drawn up knees and turned to watch the fire while the twins went on to gossip about what she’d told them. Fabian hadn’t spoken about the hunt since the brief conversation they’d had in Diannah’s house; but he had dreamed about it every night since. Mistral had awoken each morning filled with a deep sense of anguish that wasn’t hers and knew Fabian had felt more than just disbelief when he’d watched her leap.

  ‘Are you coming to the tavern tonight for a game of cards and something to eat?’ Phantom asked, breaking into her thoughts. ‘Only it’s getting a bit dull to tell you the truth. I thought we could liven things up with our trick of messing with our brothers thoughts; you read them and we change them. Never fails to amuse me!’

  Mistral lifted her head to grin at him, ‘Are you missing me brother?’

  Phantom shrugged, ‘No … just bored.’

  ‘Of course we’re missing you Mistral.’ Phantasm sighed, rolling his eyes at his brother. ‘But you and Mage De Winter deserve some time together. I think you’ve barely had a moment’s peace since you were married.’

  Mistral smiled and rested her chin back onto her bent knees, ‘It has been quite nice not to have anything to worry about for once. Oh I know it’s all still out there, pending … the battle between Malachi and Leo to be the next Divinus, the restless vampire tribe, the Rochfortes, my year of servitude to Leo and no doubt Mage Grapple … but for now, thanks to the snow, there’s nothing to do.’

  ‘Nothing, huh?’

  Mistral turned her head to give Phantom an arch look, ‘You know brother, I think I’m washing my hair tonight. Sorry, but I won’t be coming out. Maybe another time.’

  ‘Well it could definitely do with it.’ Phantom muttered, looking pointedly at her disheveled appearance.

  Mistral scowled at him, ‘In fact, I think I’m washing my hair every night until the snow eases enough for us to leave.’

  Phantom was immediately repentant, ‘Oh please come out! I’m so bored with drinking cider and listening to Xerxes bragging!’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe –’

  ‘Come on Mistral!’ Phantom wheedled. ‘What can I say to make you?’

  ‘Tell me you miss me.’

  ‘No chance!’

  ‘Not coming then.’

  Phantom’s shoulders drooped in defeat, ‘Oh alright then. I miss you. There, I’ve said it. Satisfied now?’

  She grinned at him, ‘No, but I will be when I’ve robbed you all blind at cards! Tell Fabian I’ll be there in a bit, I am actually just going to wash my hair –’

  Snow continued to fall heavily for another week. They fell into a lazy routine of rising late, eating a huge breakfast together at Diannah’s house and laughing at her tales of the youthful mishaps of her sons. Then Fabian and Mistral would leave her brothers to engage in a fierce snowball fight that went on until noon when they would retire to the tavern, glowing with cold and covered in snow, to pass the afternoon gambling, drinking and telling endless stories. Mistral spent
her days with Fabian in the peaceful warmth of their log cabin, forcing herself to devote some time each afternoon to reading the thoughts of whoever Fabian wished her to. The twins would sometimes visit and a strange four-way conversation would ensue between Fabian and Leo using the twins’ and Mistral’s gifts to communicate. She repeated her attempts to try and read either Christophe or Etienne Rochforte, but was no more successful than she had been in the mountains. It was frustrating that her gift had not yet become powerful enough to accomplish what she knew Fabian needed from her. After everything she’d put him through on the dragon cull Mistral wanted nothing more than to please him for a change. When she admitted this to Phantasm he had made her blush by replying tartly that Mage De Winter had looked nothing but pleased for the last two weeks.

  Each evening Fabian and Mistral would reappear and join the others in the tavern to play cards over a lengthy meal of roasted meat and yet more cider.

  ‘You know – ’Phantom hiccupped and placed his tankard down onto the table next to a row of empty ones. ‘We nearly fell out during the first week, but I think I’m developing a new appreciation for cider. It grows on you after a while.’

  ‘You have worked pretty hard at it.’ Mistral said sarcastically, taking a sip of her own and grimacing. ‘Personally I can’t stand the stuff. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever spent so much time in a tavern sober before.’

  ‘And I don’t think I’ve ever seen you looking so healthy Mistral.’ Cain said looking at her thoughtfully. ‘Maybe enforced rest and not drinking suits you. Definitely makes you less grouchy.’

  ‘And you’re no longer throwing up every five minutes.’ Brutus muttered into his tankard.

  Mistral gave him a warning glare and glanced quickly at Fabian, but he was deep in conversation with Phantasm about a plan to bolster Leo’s reputation once the news about the cull got out. In truth, she had been sick again, but only when Diannah insisted on producing the foul, over-sweetened herbal drink at breakfast time. Mistral was sure she’d successfully hidden her need to be violently sick under the pretense needing the bathroom for normal reasons. In any event, Fabian hadn’t appeared to notice, leaving Mistral relieved, but also confused as to why she couldn’t stomach the smell of honey any more.

  ‘You do realise it’s the first of February tomorrow don’t you?’ Cain said and gazed broodingly at the snow-filled window.

  ‘No! Really?’ Mistral exclaimed and instantly looked troubled.

  Cain nodded and sighed, ‘This place is a time-trap. I can see why Brutus and Xerxes wanted to get out so badly. It would drive me insane to be stuck here for months at a time.’

  February! Mistral couldn’t believe so much time had passed. Something was definitely wrong with her … she sighed and pushed her tankard away; a trip to the infirmary beckoned when she returned the Valley.

  Three more days of snow followed then on the fourth day Mistral awoke to bright sunshine and blue skies, ‘Wake up Fabian!’ She climbed back onto the bed and whispered excitedly in his ear. ‘It’s stopped snowing! We can go home!’

  Fabian regarded her through half-open eyes, ‘I’m not sure I like you appearing over-joyed that our honeymoon is over.’

  ‘It’s not yet,’ she grinned and slid back under the covers.

  Breakfast at Diannah’s was a riotous affair with Xerxes insisting on them finishing the last of Floris’ liquor in a series of increasingly random toasts, finally ending with one for Prospero.

  ‘The most, loyal, obedient and … fluffy … dog I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting!’ He declared, raising his glass in an exuberant toast to Mistral’s dog, happily crunching his way through a dragon bone on Diannah’s spotless kitchen floor.

  ‘To Prospero!’

  Mistral rolled her eyes and took a sip of water, catching Fabian’s amused expression she smiled. He looked so relaxed and, there really was no other word for it, happy. She wondered idly if he’d ever had a proper holiday in his life. Probably not she decided with a wry smile. She was sure he would consider a mercenary contract somewhere hot to be a holiday.

  Diannah became tearful when it was time for them to leave, alternating between hugging her sons tightly and berating them for not coming back sooner, ‘I miss you both so much! Please visit me again … and do try to settle down a bit Xerxes! You’re getting too old to be such a rake! Don’t turn into your father –’

  Xerxes muttered something about stable doors and bolting horses and hugged his mother back, turning away quickly to let Brutus receive a similar bone-crushing hug and pep talk.

  ‘Please try to control your brother Brutus, he looks up to you! You always were the more sensible one –’

  Brutus patted his mother awkwardly on the back, ‘I’ll do my best, goodbye mother.’

  ‘He forgot to add that Xerxes is actually a lost cause.’ Cain muttered to Mistral as they ploughed through calf deep snow towards the stables. ‘Can you imagine trying to control Xerxes? It’d be like trying to restrain a charging bull!’

  Mistral laughed. There were many similarities between Xerxes and a charging bull, and none of them complimentary.

  The ride back to the Council passed by in a drunken haze for the warriors but for Mistral it was filled with exhilaration at being out in the open air again. Much as she’d enjoyed the chance to spend time alone with Fabian, she was more than ready to escape the confines of the tiny mountain settlement. The horses were skittish and irritable from being stabled for so long; Spirit tried to throw Fabian several times and Cirrus was impatient to let off steam, pulling strongly and trying to bolt at every opportunity. They arrived at the Council in ill humour, with the twins clutching their heads and everyone wearing pained expressions.

  ‘Tavern.’ Xerxes declared shortly, dismounting and throwing his reins bad-temperedly to the young stablehand that scurried towards him.

  Brutus, Cain and the twins made noises of agreement and dismounted stiffly, their muscles unused to riding after a long break. Grendel stomped past looking smug. Having no horse to battle with, he was in slightly better shape than the others.

  ‘We need to see Eximius.’ Fabian said quietly and swung himself down from the saddle.

  Mistral nodded and handed her reins to a frightened looking stablehand, ‘He’s a bit grumpy today,’ she said over her shoulder and hid a smile at the boy’s responding look of terror. ‘And could you feed my dog please? He’s only had a dragon bone today and he’s still hungry.’

  Taking Fabian’s hand, Mistral walked beside him up the steps to the Council building. She was already so familiar with the huge white marble atrium that the grandeur barely registered. Mistral could hear Fabian’s thoughts growing in tension with every step they took. She sighed, she’d grown used to her Mage’s thoughts only being full of her and it was an unpleasant shock to hear him think of other, darker matters once again.

  He halted in front of one of the many featureless doors set in the back wall of the atrium and rapped smartly on the polished black wood. There was a brief silence before footsteps sounded from the other side and it was opened by the same stern looking woman Mistral had met at Mage Grapple’s house.

  ‘I need to see Eximius on an urgent matter. It cannot wait.’ Fabian snapped without preamble.

  She raised an eyebrow coldly but said nothing and opened the door wider to admit both Fabian and Mistral into the austere surroundings of a waiting room, furnished with the same lack of attention to comfort that Mistral recognised from Mage Grapple’s house.

  ‘I shall inform him of your request.’ The woman swept from the room, vanishing through yet another black panelled door into what Mistral could only assume was Mage Grapple’s private office.

  ‘Is she his housekeeper or his secretary?’ Mistral whispered.

  ‘Both.’ Fabian replied in a low voice. ‘Eximius trusts few people and likes to utilise those he does fully.’

  Mistral thought for a moment, ‘Is she –?’

  ‘No.’ Fabian cut her off sharply
. ‘Eximius does not have a lover.’

  Mistral winced. As usual she had stuck her foot right in it. Fabian’s mother had been lovers with Eximius; Leo was their child. She closed her eyes and cursed herself for her insensitivity. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered.

  Fabian squeezed her hand, letting her know that he understood. The door suddenly opened and the secretary returned, motioning wordlessly for them to enter into Mage Grapple’s office.

  ‘Do you want me to wait here?’ Mistral asked, hanging back as Fabian strode forwards.

  ‘No.’

  Fabian dragged her firmly into the private domain of the Head of the Mage Council and turned to shut the door behind them, leaving her staring wordlessly into the heavily scarred features of Mage Grapple.

  'Lady De Winter,’ he greeted her politely then turned to Fabian. ‘Where is my consort?’

  Mistral started. Powers and Silver. She’d forgotten all about having to explain to Mage Grapple that his two Councillors were –

  ‘Dead.’

  Mage Grapple regarded Fabian steadily, ‘I see. Please explain.’

  ‘I killed Powers.’

  There was a short silence.

  ‘And Silver?’

  ‘He fell.’

  There was a short silence.

  ‘And why did you kill Powers?’ Mage Grapple finally asked in a cold voice.

  ‘Because he conspired to kill Mistral and one of the Gemini.’ Fabian replied in equally icy tones. ‘He was a Rochforte! A fact that you should have been aware of before electing to send him as one of our consort!’

  Mage Grapple raised a scarred eyebrow, ‘Was he really?’ He said softly.

  Fabian glared at him, the silence seemed to deepen to become almost tangible. Mistral shifted uncomfortably and wished she were outside with the sour-faced secretary.

  ‘I think you owe my wife an apology!’ Fabian finally hissed.