The Seer

by Kirsten Jones

  ‘Five, is that all?’

  ‘Hmm,’ he turned to look at her again, ‘And I would like to fill them all, eventually.’

  Mistral laughed at his implied meaning, ‘Well Prospero can have one for starters.’

  ‘He’s in one of them already actually.’

  They had reached the gates to the Council courtyard and joined Melsina and Vilius again to wait for the warlocks to open them.

  ‘So, tell me darling, just how are my boys? Are they dating anyone of note? Any signs of a double wedding perhaps?’ Melsina asked in a breathy voice while they walked through the gates and across the moonlit courtyard.

  Mistral closed her eyes. The last thing she wanted was an inquisition from Melsina on the twins, but before she had time to think of an appropriately bland response, Melsina suddenly emitted a loud squeal and dashed off to greet a portly Mage and his hatchet-faced wife.

  ‘Mage Rosenberg and Prudence! How super to see you both looking so … well –’

  Fabian laughed softly and Mistral exhaled with relief; saved from the grilling Melsina had been planning.

  ‘Trolls, manticores, cyclops; they have nothing on that woman!’ Mistral muttered under her breath while she watched Melsina’s critical gaze travel over the woman’s dress.

  ‘Red, Prudence? Really? What were you thinking? You should have asked for my help! Red will only accentuate your veins –’

  ‘She is slightly daunting,’ agreed Fabian with a quiet laugh.

  Taking her hand he led up the short flight of steps to the Council headquarters. The double doors were thrown wide open to reveal the white marble atrium, now filled with flamboyantly dressed Mages and their wives. Mistral shrank against Fabian’s side as they stepped into the noisy crush, flinching under a hail of blatantly curious stares.

  ‘De Winter,’ a cold voice greeted Fabian. Mistral turned to meet the emotionless grey stare of Mage Grapple. ‘Lady De Winter, you look positively radiant.’

  Mistral glanced uncertainly at Fabian while Mage Grapple took hold of her hand and lifted it to his lips. Fabian returned her gaze with frank amazement; obviously this was an unprecedented event.

  ‘Er, thank you,’ she muttered when Mage Grapple released her hand.

  He looked at her, his scarred face twisting into the briefest of smiles, ‘Enjoy the gala,’ he murmured and swept away to greet more delegates appearing in the doorway.

  ‘I told you he likes you.’ Fabian whispered into her ear while he led her further into the room. ‘I’ve never seen him do that before!’

  ‘That was the scariest greeting I’ve ever had,’ she muttered back, gazing around in wonder at the garishly dressed women and their preening husbands.

  ‘Mage De Winter!’ an unctuous voice exclaimed beside them.

  Fabian turned to meet the gaze of short, rounded Mage in lurid orange robes that gave him the unfortunate appearance of looking like a goldfish, ‘Good evening Mage Flowers,’ he responded solicitously.

  ‘Oh, this must be your good lady wife! I say! You are blooming, when are you due my dear?’

  ‘Your guess is as good as mine.’ Mistral replied, gazing longingly at a tray of champagne glasses being carried past by a purple-liveried waiter.

  ‘Oh-ho! These things can be a trifle hard to work out,’ he laughed dropping a lascivious wink in Fabian’s direction.

  ‘You have no idea.’ Mistral muttered while Mage Flowers laughed loudly at his own joke.

  ‘Now please excuse us my dear! But I need to talk to your husband about a rather delicate Council matter ... I’m sure it would bore you to tears!’

  Mistral cast a terrified glance at Fabian’s expressionless face. He nodded briefly before turning back to Mage Flowers. ‘Another time perhaps.’

  ‘I think we will be able to keep Lady De Winter company until you return Mage De Winter.’ Phantasm’s cool voice cut in smoothly.

  Mistral glanced around to see the twins gliding elegantly up on either side of her.

  Fabian held his gaze for a moment and then looked at Mistral again, ‘I will be back as quickly as I can,’ he promised softly.

  Nodding wordlessly Mistral watched him walk away, his dark head bending to listen whatever Mage Flowers was furtively whispering in his ear. Feeling abandoned and horribly vulnerable without any weapons, Mistral dragged her gaze back the twins, her expression a little wild. She noted vaguely that they looked devastatingly handsome in white shirts and black trousers with their blonde hair slicked back to display their high cheek bones and startling green eyes to full effect.

  ‘Oh now, that just won’t do at all!’ Phantasm frowned at her.

  ‘At last! Someone that agrees with me! Quick, give me your shirt Phantom!’ Mistral gasped.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Phantom snapped, recoiling from her frantically grabbing hand.

  ‘I was referring to you, not your dress, which is quite perfect by the way,’ continued Phantasm.

  ‘What about me?’ Mistral demanded in petrified whisper.

  ‘Precisely that! Stop looking like a mouse scuttling in the corner of a room full of cats!’

  ‘But look at everyone! I don’t belong here!’

  ‘You are right, you don’t belong here Mistral!’ Phantasm hissed in a furious whisper. ‘Because you are far better than every single one of these grasping, selfish excuses for living beings!’

  Mistral stared at him while he fixed her with his piercing green eyes and continued to berate her in a low voice.

  ‘Now lift your chin and carry yourself with a bit of pride! You are Lady De Winter! Carrying the son and heir to the entire De Winter estate. Your Mage should be proud of his wife, not witnessing her cowering in a corner! Do you have any idea how many women in this room would, quite literally, I assure you, kill to be in your position?’

  Mistral immediately stiffened and her eyes blazed. She glared around at the other women in the room with barely concealed aggression. ‘Them?’ She demanded in a scornful whisper. ‘Those … women … would take Fabian from me?’

  ‘Hmm, I’m not sure that there is anyone in the world that could actually cope with your Mage but you,’ mused Phantasm with a small frown. ‘However, yes I am fairly sure that every woman in this room would probably be willing to try, just to have the title, money and prestige that comes with being his wife. Ah! Now that’s more like it!’ Phantasm gave a satisfied nod as Mistral drew herself up and raised her chin defiantly, a fierce expression lighting her face. ‘But maybe just tone it down a little bit ... I think you’re frightening some of them!’

  ‘Am I really?’ she murmured, looking supremely unconcerned. ‘Shame.’

  ‘Easy now!’ Phantasm laughed, watching her meet the assessing gaze of one of the Council wives across the room and raise an eyebrow challengingly, making the woman flinch and turn away quickly.

  ‘I see he’s started giving you some of the De Winter diamonds then.’ Phantom said conversationally and reached out to collect three glasses of champagne from a waiter passing by, giving one to his brother and then holding one out to Mistral. ‘Oh sorry,’ he said when Phantasm shook his head at him. ‘I forgot that Mistral is banned from anything that makes her more bearable. I’ll just have two shall I?’

  ‘Er – back up a bit. Some of the De Winter diamonds?’ Mistral stared at Phantom, her hand curling briefly around the heavy stone. ‘There’s more?’

  ‘Oh yes.’ Phantom said, taking a long swallow of champagne. ‘That one you’re modelling is actually part of a set. There’s earrings and a bracelet to go with it. They’re very old, been in the family for hundreds of years. The emeralds are my favourite, obviously!’ he laughed, placing his empty glass on a tray and quickly taking another. ‘It’s quite a famous collection actually –’

  Mistral closed her eyes and fought the urge to strangle her brother while he droned on about the priceless collection of De Winter jewellery that she fervently hoped Fabian wouldn’t expect her to wear, no matter how many children they
had.

  ‘Enough champagne brother.’ Phantasm said firmly and took Phantom’s third glass from him. ‘Let’s not forget that we’re here to work tonight.’

  ‘Talking of which, I’d better get started,’ said Mistral quickly, glad of the chance to change the conversation. She exhaled slowly and cleared her mind, letting her gaze travel across the room and calling forth the multiple visions of auras, pushing her mind beyond the swirl of colours … to hear … to See – ‘Oh my!’ She murmured after a long moment and smiled, her unfocussed gaze drifting hazily back to meet the twins’ narrowed eyes. ‘But aren’t you two popular – gorgeous even –’

  ‘Well we are,’ agreed Phantom immodestly.

  ‘Oh, no –’ Mistral groaned, a look of repulsion cutting through her dreamy expression. ‘But that’s just disgusting!’

  ‘What is it? Who’s planning something?’ Phantasm demanded in an urgent whisper.

  ‘That woman there – with both of you –’ Mistral sighed and let her gaze wander across the sea of people once more as the twins glanced at the over-made up woman in a tightly fitting scarlet gown. She giggled and waggled her fingers at them.

  ‘Please focus Mistral!’ Phantasm hissed.

  ‘Or at least listen in on someone under five hundred years old,’ muttered Phantom, giving the woman a horrified look.

  ‘Greed … envy … lust … pride … vanity … ambition –’ Mistral intoned dully as she heard the thoughts of the gathered officials, delegates and their partners. She tilted her head fractionally towards a tall Mage with a moustache and smiled vaguely. ‘He wonders which of you is the father,’ she paused and gave a short laugh. ‘Now he wonders if I even know which of you is the father –’

  The twins rolled their eyes at each other before looking intently at her again.

  ‘Mage Rosenberg –’ Mistral frowned dreamily.

  ‘Yes?’ Phantasm prompted in a hushed voice.

  ‘He can’t believe I am the same scruffy assassin who caused all the trouble last year … he worries that I will cause trouble again tonight … especially since … No!’ Mistral’s eyes flew wide open and she stared uncomprehendingly into space.

  ‘What?’ Phantom hissed, his eyes staring impatiently into hers.

  Mistral frowned sharply, hushing him with a raised hand, ‘I need to See –’

  The twins fell silent; their pale faces drawn tight while Mistral’s eyes slid out of focus again. She stood completely still, her hands resting protectively over her unborn child as her mind searched through the murmur of thoughts for the one voice she heard in her nightmares.

  Suddenly her eyes narrowed to slits, the words escaping her lips in a savage hiss, ‘She’s here.’

  The twins watched her, both silent and tense. Mistral raised an eyebrow and tilted her head slightly, blanking out the other sounds in the room and focussing purely on one voice. ‘She is filled with hate … and envy … she sees me with you both … she is shocked … how can she be with child? She is a half-breed! If not … then what? … Is she Mage born? ... Is that diamond real? Mistral’s voice rose slightly, taking on the tonality of the thoughts she heard.

  ‘Damn! Where is that bitch!’ Phantom hissed, swearing uncharacteristically while his green eyes raked the room.

  ‘She is looking down from above –’

  Instantly both the twins tilted their heads to gaze up at the long balcony running along the back wall of the atrium.

  ‘There!’

  Phantasm’s green eyes narrowed, following his brother’s gaze to see the willowy form of Golden, leaning over the marble balustrade and staring straight at them.

  Mistral’s eyes abruptly snapped into focus to meet Golden’s hate-filled stare, ‘I will kill you,’ she mouthed silently, knowing that despite the growing level of noise and laughter around them, Golden had understood every syllable.

  Golden threw her a contemptuous look and turned away, weaving her way through the crowd on the balcony to be quickly lost from sight.

  ‘Damn it!’ Mistral cursed and turned sharply to look at the twins. ‘Give me a knife!’

  ‘What?’ Phantom demanded, looking quickly around to make sure no-one had heard.

  ‘You always carry a knife in your boot!’ Mistral hissed impatiently. ‘Give it to me!’

  ‘And if I did, where exactly would you hide it?’ Phantom snapped, looking pointedly at her dress. ‘Or would you just wander around with it in your hand – or maybe clenched between your teeth?’ he suggested sarcastically.

  Mistral swore at him and abruptly turned away, striding towards the stairs leading to the balcony, ‘I’ll just have to kill her with my bare hands then!’

  At once Phantasm’s hand was on her arm, holding her back, ‘Don’t you dare to pull a reckless stunt tonight Mistral,’ he warned her in a sharp undertone. ‘It’s about more than you!’

  Mistral spun around to glare furiously at him, ‘You know what she did!’

  ‘I know.’ Phantasm said softly. ‘But tonight is not the time for revenge.’

  ‘Yes it is! I will kill her for what she put me through!’ Mistral hissed, twisting her arm against his grip.

  ‘She did you no harm in the end … it was her that lost everything.’

  Mistral froze and stared at him, her face incredulous, ‘Did me no harm?’ She echoed in an astonished whisper. ‘She made me watch Fabian die over and over! She needs to pay for that!’

  ‘No, listen to me. You didn’t see Fabian die. It was all an illusion.’ Phantasm corrected sternly.

  ‘Just because it wasn’t real doesn’t change the way it made me feel!’

  ‘We’ve been through this Mistral! Let it go … let her go … Golden will always land on her feet, but there are only so many times she can switch allegiance so blatantly and get away with it. What is she now but the Rochforte whore? She will come to nothing, I know you detest the very air she breathes, but tonight is not the time for your vendetta… think of your son –’ Smiling his angel’s smile, Phantasm gently laid a hand on the swell of her pregnancy.

  Mistral scowled at him for making such an obvious play on her emotions but couldn’t help placing her hand over his, holding it briefly so that they both felt the baby kick in response to their touch.

  Phantasm laughed as she winced, ‘See, he agrees with his godfather.’

  ‘At least one of us does.’ Mistral muttered, casting a long dark look up at the balcony. ‘So … I wait. But I will have my revenge.’

  ‘You already have Mistral, why can’t you see that?’ Phantasm sighed.

  ‘How? When that bitch still breathes?’

  ‘Look at you!’ Phantasm exclaimed. ‘A Seer! Wait, I need to clarify that … The Seer… and if that wasn’t enough, you are Lady De Winter … and do I even need to point out the fact that you have successfully accomplished something she’ll never be able to do?’ he paused to give her a bemused look and shake his head. ‘You really need to stop being angry with Golden and start feeling sorry for her Mistral! She’s a pitiful creature that exists only as a reflection in the eyes of others – whilst you! You are wilful, strong, independent and, not least of all, with child; which she will never be.’

  Mistral regarded him silently for a moment and then sighed, ‘You have the gift of forgiveness brother,’ she smiled. ‘Which is probably why we’re still friends.’

  ‘You do realise that I must be the only one who hasn’t felt my godson demonstrate his fighting abilities yet, don’t you,’ said Phantom in a slightly petulant tone, wandering up to her side with another glass of champagne in his hand.

  Mistral cast a longing look at the narrow glass he was holding and quickly drew him towards her with a conspiratorial expression on her face, ‘I’ll make you a deal brother,’ she whispered, shooting a quick glance at Phantasm to see that he had been cornered by the predatory looking woman in the scarlet dress.

  ‘Oh yes?’ Phantom enquired innocently.

  ‘Give me that drink and I’ll let you feel
your godson trying to kick his way out anytime you wish!’

  Phantom gave her a long calculating look and suddenly grinned, ‘Done!’

  ‘Oh, thank you!’ she gasped, reaching out to grasp the stem of the glass.

  ‘Anytime!’ He laughed and took a long drink before passing it to her half-empty.

  While Mistral took a guilty sip of champagne Phantom hovered a hand over her belly and glanced at her uncertainly, ‘Is this right?’ he whispered. ‘And is anyone looking?’

  She laughed and promptly choked as the bubbles of champagne hit the back of her throat, ‘Here,’ she took his hand and pressed it firmly against her curved belly. ‘Ouch! There you are … say hello to your godson!’

  Phantom’s green eyes widened and a huge grin lit his face, ‘That’s amazing!’

  ‘For you maybe,’ said Mistral drily and took another sip of champagne. ‘But, believe me; it gets a bit wearing after a while –’

  ‘Why, whenever I leave you for the briefest of moments, do I return to find other men holding you?’ Fabian’s voice made her and Phantom both jump guiltily.

  ‘Oh, I do apologise Mage De Winter – I was just, er, feeling my godson?’ Phantom looked apologetically at Fabian.

  Mistral shoved the nearly empty glass of champagne into Phantom’s hand and forced a laugh, ‘There, you’ve felt him now, so I don’t need to hold your drink for you anymore!’

  Fabian eyed Mistral’s guilty face with an amused smile, ‘It’s time for the banquet, have you Seen enough?

  Mistral instantly grasped his meaning, ‘Yes, I’ve Seen quite enough so far.

  ‘Tell me,’ he murmured and took her hand led her towards one of the doors at the back of the room.

  ‘The usual nefarious delights of the Council, oh, and Golden’s here.’

  Fabian nodded, ‘I suspected she might be. She is, after all, Christophe’s lover.’

  ‘Why are they here anyway?’ Mistral asked with a scowl. ‘I thought the battle at Holdridge would’ve put pay to any good will between Mage Grapple and the Rochfortes.’

  Fabian shrugged, ‘The world is changing. Eximius knows that our kind cannot hope to exist freely amongst mankind for much longer. Despite all that has occurred with the Rochfortes, he is committed to the idea of the Isle being a sanctuary to all Mage and Arcane races, even those that persistently try to take his rule from him.’