The Seer

by Kirsten Jones

  They spent the next hour outlining a route. Samson named three other warriors he felt were both loyal and had skills that would be beneficial to their mission. By the middle of the afternoon a plan had been decided upon and they rose from the table, agreeing to meet at the stables within one hour to depart for the Northern Range.

  ‘Phantom, Phantasm?’ Fabian looked meaningfully at the twins. ‘I would be grateful if you could inform the relevant parties.’

  The twins nodded and left without speaking to Mistral, who didn’t even look up from the cold meat and bread she was preparing for the journey.

  ‘I’m not sure my armour will fit any more.’ Mistral confessed as she opened her saddlebag to throw in a parcel of food.

  ‘You will be well protected.’ Fabian murmured, walking up behind her to wrap both arms around her.

  Mistral smiled and laid her head back against him with a sigh, ‘I can’t believe you’re letting me go! I thought you’d come over all chivalrous and make me stay in the Valley!’

  ‘Chivalrous?’ Fabian laughed. ‘I’m not sure I’ve ever been described as that before!’

  ‘Oh you are.’ Mistral turned in his arms to gaze expressively up at him. ‘But I promise to be careful. I won’t risk our son in battle, I’ll shoot crossbow from a distance –’

  ‘Yes, you will. A very great distance.’ Fabian murmured and bent his head to kiss her.

  Uprising

  ‘Liliana didn’t look too pleased.’ Mistral commented, reining Cirrus in beside Brutus’ horse to watch Prospero bounding ahead through the long grass.

  ‘No. I think that wedding nights in the Valley are doomed to be replaced by life-threatening situations,’ he agreed with a laugh.

  They were riding across the meadows towards the forests, the late afternoon sun hung low over the Western Range but sunset was still several hours away; they would be able to make a good start on their journey before night fell.

  ‘Are those really rose petals in Xerxes’ hair?’ Mistral asked, narrowing her eyes to study the red fragments trapped in Xerxes’ long hair.

  ‘Yes. Makes a change from straw doesn’t it?’ Brutus sighed. ‘I literally had to prise him off one of Liliana’s sisters!’

  Mistral laughed, ‘Did Marietta see him?’

  Brutus nodded, ‘You know Xerxes; subtlety is hardly one of his qualities. It was actually Marietta that told me where to find him! Whatever you Saw in Malachi’s mind is nothing compared to what she’s planning to do to him when we get back!’

  ‘Well I hope she doesn’t kill him because then you’ll be the only one still talking to me.’ Mistral cast sour looks at Cain and the twins, riding ahead of them.

  ‘Fallen out?’

  Mistral pulled a face, ‘Nothing worth wasting breath on.’

  ‘What’s Phantom done this time?’

  ‘Oh he’s done nothing! It’s his stupid brother! Expecting me to happily twiddle my thumbs in the Valley while you all go off to divert a disaster that I Saw in the first place!’

  Brutus sighed. ‘He’s just a bit over-protective of you Mistral. Try not to be so hard on him –’

  ‘Oh no! He doesn’t care about me!’ Mistral snapped. ‘It’s all about his damned godson! Well he can go to hell! If he wants a son so badly he should go and get himself a wife and have one of his own!’

  Brutus raised his eyebrows but wisely said nothing. It was normal for Mistral to bicker and squabble with Phantom, but for her to speak with such bitterness about his brother was unheard of.

  The small group entered the cool darkness of forests, riding single file along a narrow path with Fabian at the head followed by Samson and three warriors Mistral had with him in The Cloak on a number of occasions. Behind them rode the twins, followed by Grendel, Xerxes, Cain and Brutus. Mistral had made sure she was right at the back to avoid the dark looks she was getting from Cain and the twins. After much debate Gleacher had been convinced by Fabian to remain in the Valley. The election had caused a rift in the Valley that was still too fresh for the Ri’s complete loyalty to be relied upon. Should it come to another stand-off between Malachi and Leo, Gleacher would provide a steadfast and trusted figure for the warriors to follow. Neither of the twins or Cain has spoken to Mistral since leaving the Valley, but that suited her perfectly. She was still so angry with Phantasm that she’d forced the constant patter of his thoughts from her mind, refusing to even hear what he was thinking, which, she mused blackly, would only be something uncomplimentary about her. Gazing moodily up at the branches overhead, Mistral jumped when Fabian’s quiet voice spoke next to her.

  ‘Could you please read Malachi while we are riding Mistral? I will lead Cirrus for you.’

  Mistral frowned at him, ‘What, now? Why can’t it wait till we’re resting?’

  ‘It is important.’ Fabian insisted quietly, leaning over to take Cirrus’ reins from her hands.

  Mistral sighed and released her grip on the reins. Holding onto the pommel of her saddle for balance she closed her eyes and called up the image of Malachi Nox’s features. The connection between their minds was instant; within a heartbeat she was sucked back into the same sparkling black void of his subconscious. Turning in a slow circle through the liquid blackness, Mistral looked around uneasily, waiting for the deluge of his unspeakable desires to assault her eyes again.

  Lights flickered in the disorientating darkness; a snarling face flashed before her eyes then vanished again. Voices echoed in her ears, guttural and rasping. More like animal noises than spoken words, they grated painfully against her eardrums.

  ‘You have failed!’

  ‘A temporary set-back. We revert to our original plan –’

  Mistral recognised Malachi’s voice, clipped and icy. She stared through the darkness, trying to see the speakers, but she was trapped deep within Malachi’s subconscious and could only hear their voices. The guttural voice laughed chillingly, a sound like nails on slate that set her teeth on edge.

  ‘This is good! We are hungry for some unrest!’

  ‘Remove that puffed up Mage from his temporary office as Divinus before the Council can confirm his position, and I shall be elected to power with no further obstacles!’

  ‘I relish the opportunity to remove all obstacles,’ the dark voice growled.

  ‘The Gemini can go. We do not need their skills.’ Malachi continued in a cold voice. ‘Fear offers a more lasting and effective control that their pathetic gift could ever offer.’

  ‘What of the Seer?’

  Mistral saw a startling flash of her own face appear in the darkness.

  ‘She would be beneficial to our cause but is a difficult creature to master, too self-destructive. The key to her is that Mage she is wed to. We need them both.’

  ‘That may be difficult. Once the tribe are unleashed the bloodlust is too powerful to control. You must secure the two you wish to remain alive before that happens.’

  ‘It shall be. We leave once you are prepared.’

  ‘We must feed first. I can see the hunger in your eyes my son! You have denied it for too long! It is time to embrace your true nature, be free of the constraints you have struggled so hard against! Our time is coming!’

  The blackness lightened suddenly and Mistral saw images looming out the depths, faceless figures, their heads turned away to expose long white necks, pulsing with life –

  ‘Enough!’ Mistral gasped her eyes flying wide open as she ripped her mind out of Malachi’s fantasy.

  Fabian wordlessly passed her a skin of water, waiting until she had taken a drink and recovered fully from her trance before speaking

  ‘Tell me,’ he said softly.

  ‘Malachi is with the tribe. I think he was talking to Bellicose, because he called him “son”’.

  ‘Couldn’t you see him?’ Fabian asked with a frown.

  Mistral shook her head, ‘The Sight, I think it’s connected itself to Malachi’s subconscious … I can’t really explain it, but it’s like I can’t go
anywhere but there –’

  ‘Malachi Nox deceived your gift with his consciousness, but now the Sight has found a connection that is undeniable it will always seek the same path.’

  Mistral looked up in surprise to see Imperato next to her. She glanced behind her to see that Dravite and Faras were with him too. ‘Oh! What are you doing here?’

  ‘We live in the forests daughter, or had you forgotten?’

  Thrown by the centaurs sudden arrival, Mistral gave Fabian a confused look but his face registered no reaction to the centaurs’ presence. His dark eyes were fixed intently on hers, waiting for her to continue.

  ‘Er, right. Well, Bellicose is going to clear the Valley of all obstacles, by that I suppose he means he’s going to have the tribe kill any warriors who come out in support for Leo when they attack. Then Malachi will be elected as the new Divinus without any resistance. Oh, and they want you and me alive for some reason that I didn’t get to hear, but not the twins.’ Mistral shrugged. ‘Can’t say I blame him there –’

  ‘Anything else?’ Fabian interrupted her sharply.

  Mistral shot him an angry look. What was the urgency? They had at least four days for her to relay the plans of the tribe. ‘Yes there was! And since you asked so nicely I shall tell you!’ she snapped. ‘They’re going to set off once they’ve fed and Malachi’s going with them! That’s everything unless you’d like me to describe how excited Malachi was at the prospect of getting something to eat!’

  ‘Not necessary, thank you.’ Fabian said shortly, and then abruptly reached over to hand her reins to Imperato.

  ‘Forgive me.’

  The kiss that brushed her lips took her by surprise but before she could respond he was gone, riding away without a backward glance and leaving her with the three centaurs. The shocking realisation that Fabian had conspired against her rendered Mistral momentarily speechless. By the time she had recovered her voice and her ability to swear, all that could be seen of Fabian was a flash of gold weaving between the trees, cantering after the rest of the group.

  The three centaurs waited silently until her outburst of angry curses and dark promises of what she was going to do when he dared to return were completely finished and she was left fuming in silence, staring at the empty trail, abandoned like her.

  ‘Come, my daughter.’

  Imperato did not comment on her language despite remonstrating her during the Tournament for swearing. His proud face was typically composed as he led Cirrus away through the trees. Mistral’s mind was working furiously, alternating between mad plans to rip her reins from Imperato’s grasp and gallop away or simply to have a complete tantrum and get off her horse and refuse to go another step until Imperato let Cirrus go.

  With a burst of frustration she realised that neither would work. Thanks to Fabian very cleverly asking her to read Malachi whilst they were travelling, she had no idea which direction they’d taken through the forests. She listened to his thoughts for a few moments before giving up; he was carefully not thinking about their route. Heaving a defeated sigh Mistral realised that she had absolutely no idea where she was. The centaurs shunned paths and trails of any sort, preferring to travel through the thick undergrowth to appear like ghosts at their chosen destination. She looked up at the patches of sky appearing through the branches to gauge her whereabouts from the position of the sun, but it had now set and all she could see was the soft inky blue of a twilight sky. Her notions of escape dwindled completely when Faras and Dravite caught her calculating looks and moved closer. Mistral glanced at the unspeaking statue-like centaurs flanking her. Their rigid expression were definitely uninviting of any polite questions regarding their current whereabouts in relation to the lying husband of hers who was going to be deaf by the time she had finished screaming at him. Mistral spent a few satisfying minutes planning her imaginary outburst at Fabian then glanced at the stern faced centaurs around her and rolled her eyes. A stay of undetermined length with the fun-loving centaur tribe ... how could Fabian do that to her? She was definitely going to kill him when he came back. If he came back …

  She fell to fretting over the battle. The vampire tribe inhabited a remote region of the Northern Range. Mage Grapple had purposefully chosen an isolated location to keep them away from the temptations of their former lives, but in doing so had made it difficult for the Council to keep a precise tally of the tribe’s numbers. Bellicose was required to present an annual census to the Council and according to Phantom, he had produced the same figure of eighteen for the last three years running. Either there had been an exact matching number of births and deaths in the tribe or Bellicose was lying. Mistral hadn’t enquired how many of that eighteen were male or female; having seen the way they fed she didn’t even want to think about their breeding habits.

  Eighteen. She narrowed her eyes and worked out the odds. Assuming roughly half the tribe were males of a fighting age, and also assuming that eighteen was a genuine number, that would leave eleven warriors facing nine vampires. She comforted herself with the maths. They were good odds, especially when five of the Ri’s party were well-seasoned warriors. Lost in her musings it wasn’t until Mistral heard Imperato greet the centaur on lookout duty that she realised they’d reached the tribal settlement. Gazing around at her prison for the foreseeable future with a sinking feeling, Mistral was marginally gladdened to see Alyssa walking towards her with a platter of meats in her hands. Her stomach gave a loud rumble at the sight of the food.

  ‘Eat, we will tend to your horse.’

  It was the first time Imperato had spoken to her since her foul tirade at Fabian. She glanced warily at him. His face was impassive, but his voice had held a definite note of displeasure. Lowering herself from Cirrus’ saddle with a sigh Mistral realised that she had offended her father and was completely at a loss of how to rectify it.

  Did she even want to?

  No.

  The twins were obviously responsible for Imperato mysteriously appearing to whisk her away, no doubt on Fabian’s instruction. But Imperato should’ve refused! Wasn’t he all about destiny and being free to follow the path of your life? And wasn’t Fabian the path of her life? Striding away from Cirrus and the three centaurs without looking or speaking to them, Mistral reached Alyssa and took the platter of food from her. Without even saying thank you, she turned and marched straight to the hut where she’d stayed before. Flinging open the door she strode in, followed by Prospero padding along quietly at her heels.

  She sat down on the bed to share the platter of meats with Prospero, at least grateful that Alyssa had correctly read that she wasn’t in the mood for company. Her gratitude abruptly vanished with the sound of the door being closed and bolted. Mistral stared in disbelief at the inside of the windowless hut, lit by the glow of a single candle placed on the floor beside the bed. She was abruptly reminded of the oubliette she’d Seen in Etienne Rochforte’s mind and gazed unhappily at her bleak dungeon. The only way in or out was through the door that was bolted from the outside, and probably guarded by one of the centaur tribe too.

  She was trapped.

  Ah … but her mind was not.

  Finishing her meal Mistral lay back onto the pallet bed and dropped a hand down to feel Prospero’s comforting bulk stretched out on the floor beside her. She closed her eyes with the intention of reading Fabian’s thoughts, and the twins’ if she really had to. She would find out where they were, and then she would formulate a plan of escape. But before the vague whisperings of Fabian’s voice filled her ears she had fallen asleep.

  Prospero barking and the sound of the door opening woke her a short while later. She immediately sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, one hand reaching automatically to her belt for her dagger with the vague notion of holding whoever was coming in at knifepoint and forcing them to take her to Cirrus. The stars shining in the patch of sky visible through the open door lit the figure stepping through the door and instantly made Mistral abandon any ideas of dramatic knifepoi
nt escapes.

  ‘Are you awake my daughter?’ Alyssa called softly across the hut.

  ‘I am now.’ Mistral replied caustically. She wasn’t sure if she was up to enduring some kind of mother-and-daughter chat.

  Alyssa walked forwards into the circle of light cast by the candle. She was carrying Mistral’s saddlebag in her hands. Mistral could see a look of sympathy on her mother’s face and also something else, some subtle, less definable emotion. While Alyssa placed the saddlebag down onto the floor by the bed, Mistral swiftly called forth the shimmering mirage of her mother’s aura, quickly analysing the vibrant display of colours that swirled in the air above her head.

  Ah … guilt. Now that was an emotion she understood only too well … and one she might be able to manipulate to her own ends too … Mistral smiled to herself and quickly hid her reaction by pressing her hands to her face, as though wiping away tears.

  ‘Oh, my daughter! Please do not cry!’

  Alyssa’s voice was strained; she reached out a hand to gently stroke Mistral’s head, no doubt meaning the touch to be comforting but it was all Mistral could do not to recoil in irritation.

  ‘How can I not cry?’ Mistral demanded with genuine ire. ‘I’m a prisoner!’

  ‘No! Oh please do not see it like that!’ Alyssa begged; her honey-dew voice thick with suppressed emotion. ‘It is your home!’

  ‘Great, I’ve got three now.’ Mistral said sarcastically. ‘I don’t suppose you’d let me go and stay in one of the others would you?’

  Alyssa didn’t reply but gazed sadly down at her.

  ‘I’ll take that as a no then.’ Mistral muttered angrily.

  ‘I will come and see you again in the morning.’ Alyssa said softly and bent to collect the empty platter from the bed.

  ‘Wait!’ Mistral cried, realising that her mother was going to leave before she’d had a chance to put her hastily thought out plan into action.

  ‘Yes, my daughter?’