The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams)

by Kirsten Jones

  ‘”To hear is to sign” is a phrase used between Agents and potential clients, particularly when a case is –’

  ‘Of a sensitive nature. Sometimes merely knowing the details of a potential Contract can be too dangerous and therefore the Agent is literally bound to undertake the Contract for one of their warriors just by hearing what it entails.’

  ‘Master Sphinx knows we are inexperienced –’

  ‘Which is putting it mildly to say the least!’

  ‘He was being generous by giving us time to consider our options before hearing the details and unwittingly committing ourselves to the Contract.’

  ‘As to your second question, well,’ Phantasm paused and looked at Mistral with raised eyebrows, ‘I would have thought you would be better able to answer how Mage De Winter was feeling than either of us, or were you just admiring his hair cut?’

  Mistral felt her cheeks redden, ‘I might have checked on his aura,’ she snapped, ignoring their smirks. ‘But only in the interests of trying to understand the situation. I do not pry on people’s emotional states,’ she finished, glaring at them haughtily and crossing her arms.

  ‘Of course, we know that,’ said Phantom in a placating tone, then, more urgently. ‘But what did you see?’

  Mistral uncrossed her arms slowly and placed her palms against her knees, she closed her eyes and called up the image of Fabian De Winter’s aura, clear as if it were in front her now. With her eyes still closed she described her vision.

  ‘Black, lots of despair and streaks of purple … that’s frustration … then red, that’s anger. Pale green, which signifies sadness or loss; the two are subtly different, then – ’ she opened both her eyes and pulled a face at Phantasm, sat on the bed opposite her. ‘Love,’ she said with a helpless shrug of her shoulders.

  The twins exhaled in unison, their eyes wide as this small and seemingly irrelevant piece of information was absorbed into their quick minds.

  ‘Ah, but of course,’ said Phantom, leaving his position at the door and walking over to his brother.

  ‘That explains quite a lot,’ Phantasm agreed and slid across the bed to make room for his brother.

  ‘Well not to me it doesn’t,’ said Mistral in an exasperated voice.

  ‘No of course not, allow us to continue.’

  ‘Mage De Winter is in love with Mage Grapple’s sister. A woman we met only once, but she struck us as quite remarkable. Think of her as a Golden with guts. Anyway, she is now the wife of Marcus of St Martine, whom she was introduced to by none other than our slippery friend Count Putreo Darke. I am sure it would amuse him immensely to thwart Mage De Winter in any way he could since–’

  ‘There really is no love lost between the two families. It’s a blood feud that goes back centuries; a most fascinating tale, but–’

  ‘The tale of the two tribes is not one that we have time for now. So, to our final question, why us?’

  ‘Staggeringly simple I’m afraid. We’re unqualified and therefore not registered with any Agents which means that should we fail we are–’

  ‘Untraceable. The Ri would be blameless. And should, by some miracle, we succeed in whatever Master Sphinx has planned for us then the Ri can remain anonymous and continue running its own show without any interference from the Council. And finally, sadly, we are totally–’

  ‘Expendable.'

  The three apprentices sat in heavy silence as that last, incontrovertible truth, sank in. Mistral was shocked. Was life really of so little value to their Training Captain? Had he really become so numbed by years of administering and carrying out Contracts that he no longer cared what means he used to achieve the desired outcomes? Leo had always given her the impression of being a strict but fair Captain. He pushed them hard in training but never beyond their capabilities and didn’t seem to relish others’ physical pain in the same way his Lieutenants did. Had she really been so mistaken?

  Leo was suddenly like a stranger to her, as cold and aloof as the shadowy figure of the Divinus. She was struck again by how young he was to hold such a powerful position. He must have been a very impressive warrior to have risen through the ranks of the Ri to be a member of the Magnate so quickly. A wave of angry betrayal enveloped her. Leo was no better than the scheming Count Putreo Darke! He too had no qualms about cruelly using others just to advance his own career. A sudden thought struck her and she gasped excitedly.

  ‘Wait a minute! To hear is to sign right? Well we haven’t heard have we, so we haven’t signed! Surely we can just go back and thank Leo very much for considering us for whatever it is he wants us to do, but respectfully decline due to our lack of experience … or something like that –’

  Mistral leapt off the bed and looked eagerly at the twins, her sudden surge of hope ebbing when she took in their glum expressions.

  ‘Hmm, we’ve been thinking that one through too ourselves,’ said Phantasm quietly.

  Phantom rubbed his forehead distractedly, as though he had a headache, ‘And we don’t really think we can decline this one – whatever it is.’

  ‘I don’t understand! We haven’t heard the details, surely we can decline! It’s our right!’ Mistral was almost shouting in frustration.

  ‘Did you hear Master Sphinx’s parting words to us?’ Phantasm asked in an uncharacteristically sharp voice.

  Mistral frowned, ‘Of course I did! He said he’d give us an hour, so what?’

  Phantasm let out an exasperated sigh and Phantom rolled his eyes, ‘When will you learn to listen?’ they chimed in unison. ‘It’s always the details that matter.’

  Phantasm lapsed back into brooding license while Phantom continued speaking, ‘Master Sphinx’s exact words were “I invite you back in one hour”. Do you see the emphasis is on the word invite? I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we three have all made it known to him, as our Training Captain, that we wish to continue as apprentices into the second year.’

  ‘And a second year happens only by invitation from a member of the Magnate and must be seconded by the Training Captain,’ finished Phantasm bitterly.

  ‘Oh,’ Mistral sank back down into the bed. She had seriously underestimated Leo Sphinx. He was far more devious than she’d given him credit for.

  Phantasm took a deep breath and stood up. He began pacing the small room, watched by Mistral and Phantom.

  ‘So,’ he began, still pacing, ‘to summarise. We can decline the Contract and effectively ruin any chances we have of continuing our apprenticeships into a second year and doom ourselves to a career of low-grade Contracts of –’

  ‘Pest control, being a mercenary and other insalubrious work,’ finished Phantom glumly.

  ‘Or,’ continued Phantasm, pausing to turn and look at the other two. ‘We could accept the Contract and –’

  ‘Or we could tell him to stick it and leave the damned Valley for good,’ muttered Mistral, looking mutinous.

  Phantasm and Phantom both turned to look directly at her, their gazes pitying.

  ‘I am sure you know that is not an option,’ said Phantom solemnly. ‘That would make us a terrible liability to both Mage De Winter and Master Sphinx. Think about what we have already seen and heard tonight. A member of the Mage Council here in the headquarters of the Ri confessing to having information of treachery on the part of another member? Mage De Winter could not risk us taking that information to Count Putreo and asking for protection ... which would be the only safe thing to do by the way.

  ‘Master Sphinx has not achieved a position of such responsibility and power simply through being handsome and handy with a sword. Do not be fooled Mistral, he’s as cold and ruthless as any of the assassins he’s trained. He would not think twice about having us eradicated to ensure our silence.’

  Phantom lapsed into a gloomy silence, his words, although quietly spoken, rang in Mistral’s ears. She felt angry and bewildered. Everything she had been certain of was suddenly alien to her.

  ‘Leo wasn’t giving us time to conside
r out of generosity was he?’ she asked dully. ‘He wanted us to work out for ourselves that we were trapped so that he didn’t have to incriminate himself by spelling it out to us.’

  The twins had obviously reached the same conclusion and nodded silently.

  Mistral suddenly threw her hands up in exasperation, ‘Look, this is stupid! We could be getting all wound up over nothing! It’s got to be a simple Contract hasn’t it? I know the bigger picture is a mess but surely all we’ll get is a small role to play? I mean, we’re not trained to do much more than dispatch hairy trolls and swamp dragons are we?’

  Phantom looked at her thoughtfully, ‘You may have a point there,’ he conceded finally. ‘My guess is that we’ll get to be some sort of messenger service – deliver a cryptic warning to Mage Grapple that he’s being set-up, or something along those lines.’

  ‘See?’ Mistral cried. ‘A messenger service! That can’t be too hard! Surely we can do this?’

  Phantasm frowned and shook his head slowly, ‘I don’t know, I don’t know,’ he repeated uncertainly. ‘Something just doesn’t ring true here; there’s a lie somewhere … we are being used, I’m sure of it.’

  Mistral snorted, ‘Oh come on! You see conspiracies everywhere! Anyway, I thought you had it sussed? We’re “expendable” or something aren’t we? Anyway, let’s look on the positive side,’ she said, suddenly brightening up. ‘We wanted to go to The Desert Lands for that mercenary work didn’t we? Well, the way I see it, we have a win-win situation; you breeze in and meet the Head of the Mage Council and practise your smooth talk – and if you stuff up we get the chance to go abroad for a fight!’

  Phantasm shook his head in disbelief, ‘It really is that simple to you isn’t it?’

  ‘Pretty much,’ she grinned.

  The twins shared a long look before sighing in unison.

  ‘Ready?’ Mistral prompted eagerly.

  They nodded mutely, their faces resigned.

  Mistral bounded to her feet in a single motion, ‘Good! Let’s go tell Leo he’s got a deal.’

  The three apprentices left the room, closing the door quietly behind them before making their way back along the stone passage.

  The Contract

  In no time at all the three apprentices were back outside the closed wooden door to Leo Sphinx’s tower room. After a moment’s hesitation it was Mistral who lifted her clenched fist and gave two resounding knocks on the door. The noise echoed loudly, mimicking the booming of her raised heartbeats. Phantasm’s reservations about the Contract made Mistral feel slightly nervous but she was resolute. And in some strange way, the situation had a feeling of inevitability that gave her enough confidence to carry her over the threshold and into the chilly torchlit room again.

  Leo welcomed them in with a cold smile, ‘Welcome back. Please be seated.’

  Fabian De Winter was stood with his back to them, gazing out of the long window into the black night. Most of the torches in the tower room remained unlit and the light was so poor that he barely cast a reflection in the glass but Mistral couldn’t help staring at him as she walked over to the table. Leo waited until they were seated then sat down opposite them. A pot of ink and a quill had been placed onto the table since their last visit. Mistral’s eyes were drawn to Leo’s hand which rested lightly over a piece of parchment; the Contract.

  ‘Tell me,’ he said, leaning forward on his elbows and locking his fingers together. ‘What is your decision?’

  Without glancing at the others, Mistral spoke. Her voice was clear and firm.

  ‘We will accept the Contract.’

  Mistral noticed that Leo raised his eyebrows briefly. She thought with a spurt of anger that he was probably surprised that it was she who had responded and not one of the more eloquent twins.

  ‘Very well. Fabian, would you be so kind as to join us?’

  Fabian De Winter made remained a frozen statue by the window. As the silence stretched into seconds Mistral wondered if Leo would be forced to do the unthinkable and repeat his request then Fabian abruptly turned. His gaze fell upon her and it was all she could do not to gasp out loud. His eyes were burning black pits set in a mask of torment. He seemed to have aged ten years in the single hour since they had last seen him and moved with slow steps to sit beside next to Leo.

  Leo did not look at him but continue to stare coldly at the three apprentices, ‘Your decision has been made. You accept the terms that will be binding.’ he pushed the piece of parchment across the table towards them. ‘Please sign so that we may proceed with the details.’ he sat back in his chair, regarding them silently with folded arms.

  Mistral picked up the Contract and scanned it quickly. She barely read most of the Contracts issued to her by Gleacher Shacklock, trusting instead in his judgement. As the words slid meaninglessly under her eyes Mistral knew she had made a terrible mistake in being the one to accept the Contract. The twins were much more adept at deciphering the complicated language used in Contracts. Mistral felt a bubble of anxiety rise up inside her and realised that once again, she had backed them into a corner. If she passed the Contract to them and asked them to read it she would make herself look woefully inept and she was determined not to display any kind of weakness in front of Leo Sphinx. Mistral took a deep breath and reached for the quill. Willing her hand not to tremble and betray her, she dipped the quill into the pot of black ink then wrote her name across the bottom of the Contract. She watched the ink drying on her scrawled name then slid the Contract over to the twins for them to sign.

  Phantom signed it without a second glance and passed it to his twin. Mistral thought she saw a frown flicker across Phantasm’s face as his eyes swept over the Contract, but he signed it with his usual flourish and folded it neatly before sliding it back across the table to Leo.

  ‘Good,’ said Leo in a satisfied voice. ‘Now, down to business. You will need to pack swiftly, I recommend the following provisions –’

  While Leo listed the variety of weapons, supplies and clothing they would need Mistral felt her attention slide. She was always bored by details. Feeling a sudden irresistible desire to look at Fabian De Winter’s aura again Mistral glanced at the silent Mage. He was such an enigma to her, his obvious suffering and dark brooding features drew her like a moth to a flame. Fabian was staring into the gloom of Leo’s tower room with a tortured expression on his face, not seeming to pay any attention to what Leo was saying. She focused on the air around his head once more and his aura quickly became visible, shimmering out of the half-light like a rainbow in a grey sky. Contrary to his facial expression, bright pinks and golds shot through with silvery blues surrounded his dark tousled hair. Mistral frowned and concentrated harder, confused by what she was seeing. Suddenly, Fabian turned his head and looked straight into her eyes with a jolting, shocking intensity. Their gazes locked and Mistral knew that she should drop her eyes, look away; try to pretend that she was actually listening to Leo’s inventory, but she felt utterly compelled to stare straight back into those burning black eyes. A second as long as a minute, an hour even, passed before the corner of Fabian De Winter’s mouth twitched into the smallest semblance of a smile and he snapped his gaze back to staring off into the gloom.

  Mistral blinked and quickly looked down at the table while she struggled to gather her thoughts. Her heart was thumping so fiercely that she was sure the others could hear it. Had anyone noticed? Mistral tried to listen to Leo’s voice above the pounding of her heartbeats. With a burst of relief she realised that he was still talking about which weapons to take and seemed to be deliberating between a goblin forged dagger or a longer, curved version favoured by the fighting elves of the north. Mistral tried to focus on what he was saying, but everything seemed utterly irrelevant compared to what she’d just experienced.

  What had she just experienced?

  Another second longer than a lifetime ticked past while Mistral tried to force her stupefied mind to function rationally. Fabian De Winter was, after all, a powerf
ul Mage. Had he weaved some sort of illusionary spell over her? She didn’t think so. There was no tell-tale ozone scent in the tower room to indicate that any spells had been cast. Was he a Seer too? Mistral quickly discounted that idea too. In her one brief meeting with the Divinus he had told her that true Seers were rare. Mistral doubted a creature as all knowing as the Divinus would have failed to have noticed another Seer in Fabian De Winter.

  Then what had she had felt?

  ‘Now, down to the details!’ Leo’s voice suddenly cut across her thoughts, dragging her back to the cold room and their looming fate.

  ‘As with all overseas Contract work, our travel arrangements have been approved by the Council. It might surprise you that there have been no questions raised, but perhaps when I tell you that Count Putreo Darke is, rather conveniently, the Councillor responsible for authorising foreign travel you will understand how this has happened. So, for the time being, Mage Grapple is ignorant that he is sending his warlock army to do battle with the Ri.

  ‘Now, time is of the essence. Mage Grapple and his army of warlocks are already heading down from the Council stronghold in the north. His most likely destination is a small port on the south east corner of the Isle, known only to the locals. Mage Grapple docks his warship there to avoid drawing attention to his actions. The port is called Blackneath –’ Leo stood up and strode across the room to where a large piece of parchment was pinned onto the stone wall. Mistral noticed for the first time that it was a map of the Isle. ‘There,’ he pointed to an insignificant dip in the Isle’s coastline on the south eastern side. ‘Travel north west towards The Velvet Forests – but stay on the outskirts of the forest itself. I’ve been receiving reports of a large pack of Blackheart Wolverines hunting in that area. Now, try to cross paths with Mage Grapple and his army here,’ Leo pointed to an insignificant black dot on the map, ‘at the small rural village of Nevelte. It’s a Mage settlement, so he might stop to rest the horses there.’