The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams)

by Kirsten Jones

  ‘And right here!’ Mistral interrupted angrily. ‘And also damned well not interested!’

  ‘Exactly my point!’ Phantasm said passionately. ‘Golden doesn’t seek power directly; she only seeks to align herself with it. She will always take the easy path to get what she wants rather than work for it, whereas Mistral will hack her way through a forest of thorn bushes to get what she wants.’

  ‘Which isn’t – and never was – Leo Sphinx!’ Mistral muttered through clenched teeth.

  ‘No, and I’m not saying it was,’ Phantasm said soothingly. ‘But it is an interesting insight to his character –’

  ‘What day is it today?’ Mistral asked suddenly.

  ‘Tuesday,’ Phantom replied, giving her a strange look.

  Only Tuesday ... three more days to go … Mistral thought with a deepening sense of gloom.

  Mistral rolled out of bed at dawn on Wednesday and dragged on her clothes feeling less than enthusiastic about the day ahead. She had stayed in The Cloak and Dagger until closing time, missing Fabian desperately and drinking more than was probably advisable to dull the ache. She had also reluctantly submitted to allowing the twins to practise their Gemini skills on her and couldn’t decide whether the headache she had now was from them meddling with her will or from the wine. Deciding to skip breakfast, she wandered down to the stables to see Cirrus, feeling again the overwhelming urge to saddle him up and roam in the mountains, anything to escape the claustrophobic confines of the Valley.

  Wednesday’s assessment was Basic Medical Care, something Mistral had become necessarily adept at over the last year. She walked slowly up to the Infirmary, thinking how ironic it was that she was actually going there under her own volition for a change.

  The twins were already there, poking curiously at a tub of some ointment that seemed to be moving on its own.

  ‘Where were you at breakfast?’ Phantom asked looked peeved. ‘It was your favourite. Fish stew!’

  Mistral sat down heavily on one of the hard wooden chairs, ‘Yuk. Glad I skipped it.’

  Phantasm gave her a calculating look, ‘Mid-week blues?’ he murmured softly.

  Mistral scowled at him and looked away, staring out of the long narrow window by the bed she had occupied so many times over the last year.

  ‘Is it me or is this week going on forever?’ she asked and sighed morosely.

  ‘Qualifying week can be stressful and feel longer than a normal week Mistral.’

  Serenity’s familiar soft voice drifted out from the storeroom seconds before she appeared carrying a large crate of glass bottles.

  Mistral said nothing as Serenity set the crate down on the table and began unstacking bottles onto the table.

  ‘This morning,’ she said in a louder voice to gain the attention of the gathered apprentices. ‘I would like you all to correctly identify the contents and uses of each potion in these bottles.’ she paused and smiled kindly. ‘I do not advise tasting as a method of identification as some are most definitely poisonous and one or two are unfortunately fatal.’

  ‘Please let Columbine fall face-first onto that one then,’ muttered Mistral moodily, folding her arms and glaring bad-temperedly at the glistening row of bottles on the table.

  They worked in silence for most of the morning, sniffing and pouring out miniscule amounts of the brightly coloured liquids into small dishes and making wild guesses as to its purposes. The twins and Mistral had an unfair advantage over most of the other apprentices since Mistral had been force-fed most of the potions at some point during the year.

  ‘Yes, that’s belladonna, definitely,’ said Mistral, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the familiar smell.

  ‘You sure?’ Phantom asked, eyeing her beadily before he scribbled the name on a label and stuck it across the bottle.

  By lunchtime only Xerxes had been sick, having taken a bet to drink the entire contents of one bottle that smelled distinctly of rotten eggs.

  Mistral sat through lunch, picking disinterestedly at a plate of something even the twins couldn’t identify then dragged herself back to the Infirmary for the afternoon.

  The sharp, unsmiling features of Malachi Nox greeted them when they entered the brightly lit room, and they immediately fell respectfully silent. As a member of the Magnate that only deigned to oversee second year apprentices, Malachi Nox commanded an understandable amount of awe in the first years. His speciality was poisons, their subject for the afternoon.

  ‘I shall be overseeing the instruction Serenity has provided to you on the use of simple poisons this afternoon,’ Malachi announced in cold, clipped tones. ‘Select a bottle of poison from the tray and match it with the correct antidote.’

  By the middle of the afternoon Mistral felt that she was going to go crazy. She couldn’t concentrate; the different bottles of poisons and their antidotes were a blurred haze in front of her eyes. With a deep sigh she turned and stared out of the window, wishing herself anyway but where she was ... well, to be precise, about two hours ride away in a honey-coloured mountain house.

  Gazing wistfully out at the path that led to the North Gate Mistral was vaguely interested to see a figure on horseback approaching. The pale winter sun glimmered off the gold flanks of the horse, the rider a tall dark shadow of such heart-aching familiarity that Mistral could barely stop herself from crying out aloud with sheer joy.

  ‘Master Nox!’ she cried suddenly, leaping to her feet with a pained expression on her face.

  ‘Yes?’ Malachi responded impassively.

  ‘I – I accidently spilt some deadly nightshade on my shirt! I need to go change it!’ Mistral improvised wildly, ignoring the astounded stares of the twins.

  Malachi Nox eyed her coldly for a long moment before nodding curtly and turning away.

  Mistral leapt from her seat and ran from the room, sprinting down the corridor and leaping the stairs two at a time before bounding out of the Entrance Hall and running down the path to the stableblock. Her heart pounded as she forced her legs to run faster. Adrenaline and the wild urge to see Fabian seemed to give her wings and she flew across the cobbled village square, arriving at the stableyard to see the pale blonde tail of Spirit vanish into the gloom of the stables.

  Too out of breath to call his name Mistral ran straight in after Spirit, leaping quickly out of the way as the high-spirited mare kicked out nervously at the disturbance behind her. Fabian spun around with a startled look on his face that immediately changed when he saw her. Mistral flung herself headlong into his arms, burying herself against his chest to inhale his familiar scent.

  ‘I’ve missed you!’ he laughed, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

  ‘How could three days be so long?’ Mistral demanded breathlessly against his chest.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he murmured, pushing her away to look into her eyes. ‘But it was unbearable. Now, where are you really supposed to be at this moment in time?’

  ‘Poisons, but I told Malachi I’d spilt deadly nightshade on my shirt so I’ve got a bit of time.’

  ‘Good,’ he smiled and pulled her towards him again.

  Mistral wandered back to her Poisons assessment in a dreamy haze, smiling happily through the process of identification and selection of the correct antidote until Malachi finally released them all with a crisp dismissal at sunset.

  Mistral practically skipped along the corridor and flew down the stairs ahead of the other apprentices, heading straight for The Cloak and Dagger and a table right at the back.

  ‘Did she drink some of those potions today?’ Phantom asked his brother with a perplexed frown, watching her running towards the village.

  Phantasm shook his head bitterly, ‘Who makes Mistral behave like she’s insane?’

  ‘Oh, right,’ said Phantom with sigh. ‘Mage De Winter.’

  Mistral unlatched the door to The Cloak and Dagger and rushed inside, leaving the door to slam shut in the face of the person behind her. Fabian was waiting for her at the bar, smiling in amuseme
nt at her impatient entrance.

  ‘How was your afternoon?’ he asked, passing her a full tankard.

  ‘Long, boring … pointless,’ Mistral shrugged, ignoring the drink he had passed her and staring instead into Fabian’s dark gaze, satiating her starved eyes on the sight of him. She frowned slightly. ‘Why have I missed you so much Fabian?’

  ‘I’m offended! Shouldn’t you miss the one you love?’ Fabian smiled.

  Mistral pulled a face at him and looked down at her untouched drink. She picked the tankard up and swirling the amber liquid irritably.

  ‘It felt like three years, not three days! It’s not natural to feel like that,’ she said and looked at him again with something close to fear in her eyes.

  Fabian regarded her sombrely for a long moment before speaking again, ‘Come and sit with me.’ he took her hand to lead her to a small table.

  With his usual unfailing politeness, Fabian pulled out a chair for her and waited until she had sat down before taking a seat opposite her. Mistral had to smile. Despite whatever supposedly atrocious acts he had committed in the past, Fabian had the best manners she had ever seen.

  Fabian gazed sincerely at her and reached out to take her hands before he spoke.

  ‘While I was at the Council I took the opportunity to read up about Bonding in their Library. I’ve never had much cause to be in there before but it was very informative. Apparently Bonding is not uncommon in Mages but, of course, we call it by another name to try and appear superior to the Arcane races.’

  ‘You mean … love?’

  ‘Love, infatuation, obsession ... the different explanations for Bonding were endless, but it all adds up to the same thing in the end –’

  Fabian paused to take a drink from his tankard and Mistral studied his face while she waited for him to continue. He looked tired; there were dark circles under his eyes she hadn’t noticed before.

  ‘Fabian,’ she frowned suddenly. ‘If you were at the Council, how have you got here so fast? It’s at least a two day ride, three usually –’

  ‘Only if you stop for the night,’ he smiled and closed his eyes briefly. ‘I rode through the night on Sunday to suffer a long, boring Council meeting on Monday afternoon at the insistence of Eximius, then spent a few hours in the library before leaving to come straight here. I’m meant to be there all week meeting some foreign delegates and I’m certain Eximius will have a few choice words to say about my absence, but I think I’ve made my feelings plain about my place on the Council on enough occasions for him not to be too surprised.’

  Mistral said nothing. She knew Fabian hated to be involved in Council affairs but his name of De Winter forced him to attend on certain occasions, usually only when Mage Grapple demanded. Despite his intense dislike of the Council, Fabian still believed in the principles behind the creation of a ruling Council and reluctantly consented to attend when his presence was unavoidable.

  Fabian looked down at her hands where they rested in his, turning them over in his and running his fingers lightly over her palm, tracing her life-line.

  ‘Anyway,’ he continued softly, ‘whilst the meeting was a day of my life I will never get back again, my visit to the library was far more instructive.’

  Fabian looked up, fixing her with the intense black stare that never ceased to steal the breath from her lungs.

  ‘The books on the subject of Bonding were vast tomes that would bore even Mycroft Casterton, but, put simply, we cannot be apart. Apparently the agony of separating Bonded pairs is akin to death.’

  Mistral frowned, ‘When I worked out that I had … what was wrong with me –’ she paused, still struggling with saying the actual word “Bonded”. ‘I spoke with Serenity and she said pretty much the same thing.’

  Fabian sighed and smiled lightly, ‘It looks like I’ll be spending a lot more time in the Valley over the next year then.’

  ‘Or I could come and live with you,’ Mistral suggested tentatively.

  ‘I don’t think that would be a good idea. I only have one bed for a start.’

  ‘And how would that be a problem?’

  Fabian closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, opening them to give her a black look, ‘No, Mistral. We made an agreement. Second year of training remember?’

  ‘But you’re a perfect gentleman aren’t you?’ Mistral could hear the plaintive note in her own voice and was horribly reminded of Golden pleading with Leo in the hayloft.

  ‘I think even my restraint would be challenged if you were there on a nightly basis!’ Fabian snapped.

  Stung by the harshness of his tone Mistral instantly felt tears prick her eyes and looked down to prevent him from seeing. Immediately his hands cupped her face, lifting it to meet his soft gaze.

  ‘Believe me, there is nothing I want more than to start out life together, but we must allow your gift a chance to develop.’ Fabian’s eyes roved wonderingly over her face. He gently traced a finger down her cheek, following the trail of a single tear. ‘Mistral, we are destined to be together. Nothing can change that. And I’m sure that even someone as impatient as you will agree that one year of the life we are going to spend together is a fairly small price to pay.’

  A stubborn look stole across Mistral’s face while she deliberated whether to argue with him or not.

  He caught her expression and smiled, ‘It is only one year Mistral. One year. Can you bear to wait that long for me?’

  ‘Oh, I suppose so,’ she conceded with a deep sigh. ‘However I am going to insist that you stay here tonight. You look exhausted.’

  ‘It was a long ride,’ he agreed, taking hold of her hands again. ‘And I am very tired. So much so that I think even you would be safe tonight.’

  Mistral pouted sulkily, making Fabian laugh.

  ‘How is your Qualifying week going?’ he suddenly asked, released her hands to take a drink from his tankard.

  Mistral rolled her eyes, ‘Well, for starters Leo is being a complete –’ she stopped herself quickly. Leo Sphinx was still Fabian’s brother after all, ‘– tyrant. He tried to make me choke Saul into unconsciousness in the close-quarters assessment and then we only did one knife drill apiece yesterday! It’s a shambles. And tomorrow we’ve got to go traipsing off into the mountains on a two-day hunting trip for a prey we haven’t been told about yet.’

  ‘You’ll find out at breakfast tomorrow,’ said Fabian. ‘It was fairly much the same when I Qualified. We expected intense tests that really pushed us to our limits too and were marginally disappointed. The reality is that you’ve done the hard work already during the year. Qualifying is more about making apprentices realise that their training has been completed rather than about being assessed. And as for Leo,’ he paused and gave a satisfied smile, ‘I think he’s having a few problems with his choice of female company.’

  ‘You could say that!’ Mistral agreed with feeling. ‘Golden kissed Phantasm in the close-quarters assessment when she had him in a choke-hold. I thought Leo was going to erupt!’

  Fabian narrowed his eyes, ‘Leo would hate that. Making him look foolish in front of his apprentices is something he will not abide.’

  ‘I heard them arguing about it later. I think she was trying to make him jealous and guarantee that he recommends her for a second year, but if she was it failed. You’re right about him hating being made to look foolish, he was fuming with her!’

  ‘Have you ever read Leo?’ Fabian asked casually.

  Mistral looked at him, keeping her expression carefully neutral. She didn’t want to anger Fabian by confessing to prying on his brother’s emotions, but she didn’t want to lie to either.

  ‘Once,’ she admitted guiltily.

  ‘And?’ Fabian prompted, looking intrigued.

  Mistral studied his face, wanting to be sure that he wasn’t angry with her before she continued but Fabian’s expression was merely interested.

  ‘He’s an open book. Lots of ambition and purpose, some frustration and greed – or envy, I’d
have to spend more time reading him to be sure.’

  She deliberately left out the part about Golden evoking a strong reaction of disgust. She felt they’d already spent quite enough time discussing the half-nymph for one evening.

  The door to the tavern suddenly banged opened and the other first year apprentices streamed in. The twins wandered over to their table. Phantom was smiling but Phantasm’s face bore the same reserved expression of the last time he had spoken with Fabian.

  ‘Mage De Winter,’ he greeted Fabian politely with a nod of his head.

  ‘Phantasm, would you and your brother care to join us for a drink?’ Fabian asked amiably.

  Phantasm hesitated and Mistral glared at him, sure he was about to refuse.

  ‘Thank you,’ he murmured, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

  ‘I’ll get them,’ said Phantom brightly, turning and swiftly making his way to the bar to return a few seconds later with his hands full of tankards.

  ‘Mistral said you were at the Council this week,’ Phantom said conversationally as he set the tankards down on the table and took a seat. ‘How is the thriving centre of our Isle these days?’

  ‘The same,’ Fabian gave a dismissive shrug. ‘A lot of talk and not much action, although Putreo was looking decidedly chagrined. Eximius had stripped him of a few privileges since his underhand tactics with Rufus and St Martine.’

  ‘I’d like to have been a fly on the wall when he did that,’ chuckled Phantom. ‘I used to be terrified of Count Putreo as a child. He was so sinister! Always appearing from around dark corners when you least expected it.’

  Fabian smiled thinly, ‘Putreo does not have many redeeming features.’

  ‘Was Mage De’ath at the meeting?’ Phantasm asked in a deliberately light voice.

  Mistral glanced at him; Vilius De’ath was his mother’s husband.

  Fabian frowned while he tried to remember before shaking his head, ‘No, I haven’t seen Vilius for a while. I think he’s been sent on a long-term placement abroad.’

  Phantasm nodded tightly and Phantom hid his face in his tankard to take a long drink, reminding Mistral of a story she wanted to tell Fabian.