The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams)

by Kirsten Jones

  ‘He revolts you!’ she said. ‘I’ve seen it.’

  Phantasm put down his tankard and stared at her with open interest.

  ‘You can read auras?’

  Mistral nodded smugly and took another drink from her goblet.

  Phantom eyed her for a moment then let out a low whistle, ‘Really? You’ll be a nightmare to play cards with then.’

  ‘But, before you go getting a superiority complex –’

  ‘Which really wouldn’t suit your modest and retiring personality –’

  ‘We must tell you that you are not alone in having a special skill –’

  ‘Quite, you see, my brother and I are gifted too –’

  ‘Is it the power to annoy people to death?’ Mistral interrupted irritably. She hated it when they shared a conversation like that. It was hard to follow and their ability to finish each other’s sentences was more than a little disturbing.

  ‘No, she got that one,’ said Phantom with a wince when an irritatingly high-pitched peal of laughter rang out across the room.

  ‘We,’ said Phantasm leaning across the table and speaking in a low voice, ‘possess the power to influence thoughts!’

  Mistral scoffed into her goblet of wine.

  The twins looked offended. ‘Want us to prove it?’ Phantom demanded.

  ‘No thanks,’ said Mistral quickly then cringed at another loud squeal of laughter. ‘But you could try getting whoever’s laughing like a wounded donkey to shut-up! It’s giving me a headache.’

  ‘That’s Golden,’ Phantom said with a disdainful look on his face.

  ‘Have you met her yet?’ Phantasm asked.

  ‘No,’ said Mistral, looking around vaguely. ‘Which one is she?’

  The twins leaned apart slightly to allow Mistral a clear view across the room. Sitting at a table right in the centre of the room was the strangest pairing Mistral had ever seen.

  One obviously had nymph in her blood-line; she was tall and slender with flawless alabaster skin and long silky blonde hair that fell in smooth waves to the middle of her back. Mistral guessed she must be the one called Golden since the name fitted perfectly. Her companion was the complete opposite to her radiant beauty. Squat and dark-featured, she blinked up at Golden in a way that reminded Mistral of a toad caught in bright sunlight. Her heavy features were strangely misshapen, like wax that had melted and set again. Golden laughed again and turned her head to flip her long hair, catching Mistral’s curious gaze in the process. Giving Mistral an openly contemptuous look, she swung around to face her companion and firmly turned her back to Mistral.

  Phantom gave a theatrical gasp, ‘Oh my! I’m surprised you haven’t been turned to stone by that look Mistral!’

  ‘Quite a reaction wasn’t it?’ Phantasm raised an eyebrow. ‘It appears that Golden doesn’t appreciate competition.’

  Mistral scowled, ‘Meaning what?’

  ‘I rather think she likes being the centre of attention Mistral. You can quite clearly see that her companion is less attractive than a mud slug, but you, however,’ Phantasm tilted his head and regarded at her thoughtfully, ‘are quite pretty when you smile.’

  Mistral pulled a face and turned her attention back to her drink, ‘Remind me never to smile again then because I didn’t come here to learn how to look pretty. But talking of pretty … who’s the raging beauty sat with her?’

  ‘Columbine,’ said Phantasm with a slight grimace. ‘She’s of gargillian blood, which aren’t very pleasant creatures. They have the nick-name “Jenny Green Teeth”. If you’re unlucky enough to catch her snarling then you’ll notice the distinctive greenish tinge to her teeth.’

  ‘Lovely,’ murmured Mistral faintly.

  Phantom laughed and leaned back in his chair, surveying the gathered newcomers with a gleam in his eye.

  ‘I do hope there are some card players in that bunch! With our skills we’re going to make a fortune!’ Leaning forward suddenly he fixed Mistral with a mischievous look and whispered to her, ‘Tell me what Golden is thinking!’

  Mistral sighed, ‘I’m not really up for doing party tricks, and anyway, I can only see what she’s feeling, not what she’s thinking.’

  ‘It’s pretty much the same thing isn’t it?’ said Phantom, looking slightly sulky before suddenly leaning across the table on his elbows, resting his chin on his folded hands. ‘Go on ... please,’ he wheedled and smiled beatifically at her.

  ‘Your charms don’t have the same effect on me as they do on sad old seamstresses!’ Mistral shook her head but grinned all the same. ‘Oh, I suppose a quick peek won’t hurt –’

  Phantom’s face erupted into a wide grin. He leaned back in his chair again, settling into a more comfortable position before gazing expectantly at Mistral.

  Mistral glanced between the twins at Golden’s back. It didn’t matter that the half-nymph wasn’t facing her, eye-contact wasn’t necessary to read a person’s aura. Forcing her attention on the shiny blonde hair of Golden’s head, Mistral slowed her breathing and emptied her mind of every thought, blocking out the conversations going on around her and the constant clunk of tankards hitting table-tops until a gentle haze began to shimmer into view above Golden’s head. Breathing deeply, Mistral focussed on the aura until it became clearer and then suddenly, it was there.

  A swathe of pink encircled Golden’s head, tighter rings of deepest ruby swirled within it like wheels within wheels, spinning with dizzying speed. Mistral narrowed her eyes, fighting against a sudden wave of nausea to see smaller rings flying around madly inside the ring of ruby, a vivid lime green and a smaller slower moving ring of brown, spinning in the opposite direction. Blinking quickly to break the sickening vision, Mistral groaned and dropped her head into hands as her own head span. Reaching blindly for her goblet she took a large gulp, sighing with relief when the heat of the drink began to settle her churning stomach.

  ‘What did you see?’ Phantom was almost beside himself with excitement, gripping the sides of his chair to stop himself from leaping up.

  ‘Never, ever ask me to read her again,’ Mistral muttered. ‘That was worse than when I drank too much home-made cider as a child –’

  ‘A story I would love to hear!’ Phantom hissed. ‘But back to the present day if you please!’

  Mistral sighed and set her goblet back down on the table. Squinting cautiously up at Phantom’s eager face she was pleased to see that the room had stopped spinning.

  ‘Take your time,’ Phantasm said gently. ‘Ignore my brother. He’s always been the more excitable one.’

  ‘She’s got a revolting aura,’ said Mistral, pulling a repulsed face. ‘It spins round crazily like a whirlwind … but in different directions … really horrible –’

  The twins said nothing but Phantom looked as though he was going to explode. Mistral sighed again and fiddled absently with the stem of her goblet while she repeated her vision.

  ‘Loads of pink; that’s love, but I couldn’t say who for ... maybe her new companion, maybe herself ... you see why I didn’t want to read her aura? It’s all too ambiguous … a ring of ruby signifying desire for something or someone … a really vile shade of lime green which indicates strong envy … or greed, oh and a small amount of brown representing a dislike for something or someone … again, I can’t say either way,’ Mistral shrugged and picked up her goblet, draining the remnants in one swallow.

  Phantom looked frustrated and ecstatic at the same time, his face worked comically while he tried to apply explanations to the various emotions Mistral had seen in Golden’s aura.

  ‘Don’t bother,’ Mistral sighed. ‘You can waste hours of your life trying to work out why someone is feeling what they are, or who it’s about – in the end you just have to give up or it’ll send you mad … or I suppose you could just pop over and ask her.’

  Phantom’s face cleared suddenly as he seriously considered her suggestion and looked about to rise from his seat when the door to the tavern suddenly opened with a drama
tic bang. A tall, broad-shouldered figure stood framed in the dark doorway. He paused for a moment then stepped into the tavern and strode confidently over to the bar, closely followed by three burly figures. An expectant hush immediately fell across the tavern as all eyes were drawn to the imposing figure and his menacing entourage.

  ‘Master Sphinx,’ breathed Phantasm, his eyes fixed on their Training Captain.

  Mistral looked curiously at their fair-haired Training Captain. His ice-blue eyes swept the room appraisingly, pausing to linger briefly on Golden who arched her eyebrow provocatively and stared brazenly back.

  ‘Apprentices of the Ri. Welcome to the Valley,’ Leo Sphinx spoke in a ringing voice that filled the room. ‘Tomorrow you are all invited to the Main Hall to Register your intention to commit a year of your lives to becoming a Ri warrior. I will see you all at first light. Do not be late.’

  Turning abruptly on his heel, he swept from the room with his three scowling Lieutenants following in his wake.

  ‘Early night then,’ said Phantasm with a sigh. He placed his tankard down on the table and made to rise to his feet before pausing and giving Mistral a hopeful look. ‘Shame really, I’d got another game with Xerxes planned and I was hoping to have Mistral sat next to me so she could read him and tell me what he was feeling before I bet.’

  ‘Not ever going to happen,’ said Mistral shortly. ‘I might end up reading how he felt about the dinner he’d eaten and not the cards in his hand. Then it’d be all my fault when you lost your money.’

  ‘Fine, fine,’ said Phantom grumpily and stood up, waiting for his brother to join him. ‘Boring early night it is then … see you at some hideously early hour –’

  Mistral watched them go and sighed, leaning back on her chair and swinging her feet up onto the chair that Phantom had vacated. She was tired but not ready for bed yet. She sipped at her goblet, content to lazily watch the other apprentices talking excitedly about Registration when a tall dark figure suddenly appeared before her. It was an apprentice she hadn’t met yet, the one who Phantom had claimed had yarthkin blood.

  ‘Mind if I sit down?’ he asked, smiling easily at her.

  ‘Help yourself,’ Mistral said, swinging her feet from the chair and sitting up.

  ‘Saul,’ he introduced himself with another smile.

  ‘Mistral,’ she replied, looking at him curiously. He looked more like a sorcerer than an Arcane, his pale skin and dark eyes reminded her of someone she had met before but couldn’t place.

  Saul nodded towards a table near the back of the room where Xerxes, Brutus and Cain were playing a game of knucklebones.

  ‘Sorry to ask this, but Xerxes has a bet on that you and one of the twins are an item. I’ve been sent to establish the truth,’ he shrugged and had the grace to look slightly abashed.

  ‘Neither I’m happy to say! They’re both too high maintenance!’ Mistral laughed, not in the least offended. She’d expected everyone make that assumption considering that she and the twins had been inseparable during the last week.

  ‘Looks like I won the bet then,’ he grinned, then added. ‘I saw you out on that black horse today, he’s a handful! You’re a good rider.’

  Mistral nodded, accepting the compliment, ‘He’s definitely a handful,’ she said with a rueful smile. ‘I think my bruises have got bruises of their own now.’

  She’d spent most of the last week as much on Cirrus’ back as being thrown off it onto the frozen ground. He was proving a difficult horse to master but Mistral refused to be daunted by the challenge. Lifting her goblet and draining the last mouthful, Mistral set it down and yawned, suddenly feeling every ache and sore muscle.

  ‘Sorry,’ she muttered, yawning again. ‘Long day falling out of the saddle … see you in the morning Saul.’

  ‘Goodnight Mistral,’ he smiled, adding softly. ‘Sleep well.’

  Rising wearily to her feet, Mistral slowly climbed the stairs to her room with thoughts of tomorrow’s looming Registration occupying her tired mind.

  Registration

  Mistral awoke in the darkness. It was not yet dawn but she could hear people already stirring in their rooms. With a lurch she remembered that today she would be registering with the Ri to become a warrior. She promptly leapt out of bed and reached automatically for the only clothing she now possessed. Throwing her scattered belongings haphazardly into her saddlebag, Mistral grabbed her swords and strapped them on; it was easier than trying to carry them. She paused and looked around her room, peering carefully in the semi-darkness to make sure she hadn’t left anything behind. Making an impatient noise in the back of her throat she walked back over to her bed and slid her hand beneath the pillow to retrieve her short-bladed dagger, chiding herself on how foolish it would have been to leave that behind.

  To her surprise the twins were dressed and waiting for her outside her door, both looking ghostly pale in their new black clothes.

  ‘Ready?’ Phantasm asked softly.

  Mistral nodded, she was starting to feel slightly nervous. The last week had been like a holiday; riding Cirrus, drinking and playing cards in The Cloak and Dagger – but now it was all quickly becoming very serious. Her stomach felt full of butterflies as they quietly descended the wooden stairs and she was grateful to find that they were the first ones up and could escape the tavern unhindered.

  None of them felt like breakfast so they quickly settled their bill with Floris. Mistral tucked her nearly empty leather purse away inside her shirt and suddenly decided to spend the remainder on some really good armour from Toothe and Nayle. Cheered by the thought of an excuse to go back and look at the butterfly knives another time, Mistral felt her nerves lessen slightly.

  They walked across the deserted tavern and out through the door into the bitterly cold morning. Huddling deeper into their cloaks they hurried across the empty village square beneath a sky stained with the first tinge of pale pink. A heavy frost had formed during the night and their booted steps crunched noisily in the silence. The only other sound was of their quiet breathing, rising up around them in misty clouds. For once the twins were silent as they walked quickly up the winding path towards the Main Building. Mistral guessed they were feeling nervous too.

  Mistral looked up at the strangely elongated castle-like structure when it appeared out of the frail dawn light ahead of them. Lights were blazing on the ground floor, turning each window to a square of bright gold. She hadn’t been inside this building yet and fell back slightly, following Phantasm and Phantom up the short flight of stairs and into a wide Entrance Hall. Mistral briefly noted another flight of stairs rising up to the second story before Phantasm abruptly turned right into a long corridor. She followed him and entered the torchlit depths of the Ri’s headquarters.

  The twins entered the Main Hall ahead of Mistral and stood quietly to one side so that when Mistral walked in she had a clear view of the long, high ceilinged room. It was rectangular in shape with one of the narrow ends completely taken up by a huge inglenook fireplace. The lofty ceiling was vaulted and decorated with plasterwork of such an intricate design that Mistral couldn’t take it in without staring. The long mullioned windows afforded an arresting view of the Valley right down to the village, still cast in shadow by looming might of the Western Range. As Mistral’s gaze swept the long room again she noted with a start that someone was stood directly in front of the blazing fire, silhouetted against the brightness of the flames.

  ‘Be seated,’ the hard ringing tones of Leo Sphinx were instantly recognisable and the three apprentices moved silently to take chairs set out in a neat row across the centre of the room. They sat without speaking, listening to the sounds of more apprentices approaching along the wooden corridor, their booted steps sounding unnaturally loud in the heavy silence.

  Xerxes, Brutus and Saul entered together, still talking loudly about a card game from the night before. They abruptly fell silent when they saw the impressive figure of their Training Captain stood at the front of the hall.
He did not need to instruct the three apprentices to cease talking; the sheer force of his presence was enough to instantly quell their conversation. Looking slightly awed, they quickly took seats next to the twins and Mistral.

  Golden appeared in the doorway next, walking with a deliberate undulating grace to take a seat at the front directly facing Leo Sphinx. Columbine followed behind, walking with ungainly stamping footsteps to take the seat next to her.

  Silence fell again and the tension in the room grew noticeably until it was broken by the sounds of something heavy moving along the corridor. Before he had even entered the room Mistral smelt Grendel’s unmistakable odour and hoped he wouldn’t sit near them. Grendel lumbered into the room and hesitated for a moment before moving to stand behind the rows of chairs not built to take his weight.

  Cain, the slight apprentice with hob blood, appeared in the doorway next. He was with another apprentice that Mistral had not met. The newcomer was older than the rest of them. In direct contrast to the nervously excited expressions on the faces of the other apprentices, he appeared calm and serious. Wordlessly they took seats next to Saul.

  Silence fell again. The fire burning at Leo Sphinx’s back crackled loudly. Mistral shivered, the heat of the flames did little to dispel the cold air in the cavernous Main Hall. Its benefit could only be felt by their Training Captain, who seemed in little hurry to begin proceedings and put them out of their cold misery.

  A barely audible sound from the door made them all look around. Another figure entered, slipping into the room like a shadow to slide quietly into the nearest seat. Mistral looked at him curiously; she had not seen him in The Cloak and Dagger and assumed he must have arrived late last night. He was thin and sallow-skinned. His face had a sunken, lifeless look akin to that of a corpse. Mistral immediately wondered what blood he had but didn’t dare whisper the question to the twins.

  Finally the two elves that had been in The Cloak and Dagger entered and strode confidently to take seats at the back, folding their long bodies onto the hard chairs with lithe grace before gazing expectantly at their Training Captain.