The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams) (27 page)

‘But if Mage De Winter ever finds
out we’ve seen her without a shirt and trousers on he’ll kill us!’ 

‘Are you a warrior or not? 
Do you really think he wants his bride to look like that?’  Phantasm jerked
a thumb scathingly in Mistral’s direction.  ‘We have to do this!’

‘Oh, he’s so going to kill
us!’  Phantom moaned fearfully.

‘No he’s not.  Now,
Mistral?’  Phantasm turned to speak gently to her, like a parent to a
distressed child.  ‘Can you please start getting undressed and put that
dress on?  We will be over here with our backs turned and we’ll help you
if you really need us to.’

Mistral watched them walk over to
stand and look out of the small window before slowly turning her gaze to stare
at the dress hanging on the wall.

A wedding dress …

A wedding … 

The seconds ticked by until
Mistral suddenly felt a spark of something flare inside her.  This was her
wedding day.  She was going to marry the man she loved.  What exactly
was she scared of?

Only everything.

Would he be there?  Or would
she be stood there in front of her brothers on her own?  A jilted
bride? 

No.  Fabian would never do
that to her. 

Would she trip over the stupid
dress and go flat on her face? 

Probably. 

‘Damn it.’  Mistral stood
up.  Unbuttoning her shirt she dropped it to the floor then stepped
quickly out of her trousers and reached for the dress.  It was made of
velvet and felt beautifully soft beneath her fingers.  She slid the
material through her hands, trying to work out how to wear it.  There were
no buttons on the front like a shirt.  Confused, she turned it around and
saw two long ribbons of gold satin lacing up the back.  Frowning with
concentration she began to unlace it and release the bodice enough for her to
step into the dress and pull it up.  Sliding her arms through the holes
she realised that she couldn’t lace the back up on her own.

‘Um, I need some help now,’ she
muttered to the twins’ backs.

Slowly they turned to face her,
their hesitant expressions instantly blazing into identical looks of triumph
that reminded her so strongly of Fabian that she almost smiled.

‘Well!  Didn’t we do a good
job?’  Phantom declared proudly.

 ‘I think you’ll find the
dress was my choice.’  Phantasm retorted crisply.

‘No, you wanted white and I said
she’d never go for that.’  Phantom argued, walking around the back of
Mistral to tug at the ribbons.

Mistral gasped as he laced the
ribbons, ‘It’s a bit tight!’

‘It’s a wedding dress Mistral,
it’s meant to be.  Now, do you want to see what you look like?’

‘No!’ she cried
automatically.  Catching the wounded expressions on their faces, she added
more hesitantly, ‘I - I meant … yes … please.’

‘Here you are.’

The twins turned her to face a
long mirror propped against the wall. 

Mistral stared silently at the
figure in the mirror.  She wore a fitted gown of palest gold velvet and
looked mockingly familiar but was far more elegant then her own image had ever
been.  She had glossy hair piled artfully on her head and wide, sparkling
eyes.  And there was also a frightening amount of skin left on display.

‘Where’s the rest of it?’ she
asked, pressing a hand to her exposed collar bones.

‘That is all of your dress
Mistral, it’s meant to look like that.’  Phantasm assured her firmly.

‘I can’t go out like this!’ she
whispered in a panicked voice, indicating to her exposed arms and frightening
amount of cleavage. 

‘Yes, we are equally surprised by
the fact that you have a woman’s body, but, honestly, the overall effect is
quite nice.  You look very unlike you today.’

‘Seriously, pass me my shirt!’

‘No chance!’

‘She’s getting
argumentative.  Time to go.’

‘Wait!  We’re not done yet!’

Mistral was promptly shoved back
onto the chair and held in place by Phantasm while Phantom rooted around under his
bed.  After some muttered cursing he finally pulled out a pair of gold
satin shoes.  Smiling in a way that made her want to hit him, he rammed
them unceremoniously onto her feet. 

‘There.  Now you are ready.’

Mistral stared down at the
elegant shoes.  They were so fragile she doubted they would survive the
walk from the twins’ room, never mind carry her all the way down to the village
square.

‘Can’t I just wear my boots?’

The twins glared at her,
boot-faced.

‘No.’

Holding her arms in a double
grip, the twins escorted her from the room, lifting rather than escorting her
along the corridor to the top of the stairs where they halted.

‘This could be a bit awkward.’
 Phantasm looked dubiously at Mistral, swaying dangerously at the stair
top.

‘If she’s never worn a dress
before there’s no way she can walk downstairs in that one!’

‘Here we go again.’  giving
a martyred sigh Phantasm swept Mistral into his arms and began to descend the
stairs.

‘What the hell d’you think you’re
doing?’ she demanded in a horrified voice.

‘I don’t think Mage De Winter
would appreciate you falling down a flight of stone stairs minutes before he is
due to marry you, and it would ruin your hair.  Now be quiet.’

When they reached the Entrance
Hall Phantasm set Mistral back on her feet.  She stared out of the doorway
and down the path leading down to the village … to where her wedding ceremony
was being held in just a few short minutes...

‘Going to be sick again!’ she
muttered frantically.

‘No you’re not.  Look who’s
here for you.’  Phantasm said soothingly. 

Mistral stared into the familiar
pale blue eyes of her dog, looking unusually clean and being held back from
jumping up at her by Brutus.

‘I don’t know what you’ve done
with Mistral but I think Mage De Winter’s going to be pleased with the
replacement!’  Brutus grinned.  ‘Here’s your bridesmaid, bathed and
brushed by my own fair hand, and he’s as difficult as your damned horse!’

‘Bridesmaid?’  Mistral
repeated weakly.

‘Yes.  Surprisingly, none of
us lot wanted the task and since Golden and Columbine are no longer around, the
job’s fallen to Prospero.  He seems quite keen actually.’

‘We really need to get going.’
 Phantasm snapped impatiently.

Mistral felt the double grip on
her arms tighten again, propelling her forwards.  The path slid away
beneath her stumbling feet.  She was aware, in a vague sort of way that it
was a beautiful day and strangely, she seemed to be able to hear the sound of
the sea.

‘What’s that noise?’ she asked in
a bewildered tone.  ‘It’s … like waves on the shore –’

‘Nothing for you to worry about.’
 Phantom said quickly.

Time seemed to operate outside of
the normal rules.  One moment every step seemed to take an age then
suddenly she was rounding the last bend in the path and the village square
appeared before her.  She halted abruptly, staring in terror.  The
sound of the sea had actually been the entire population of the village talking
while they waited for her to arrive.

‘No!  No!  I can’t do
that!’  she moaned, shaking her head and staring in wide-eyed fear at the
blurred mass of colour that packed the village square.  A clear walk-way
through the crowd led to an archway of flowers where Mistral could just make
out a figure in a white shirt. 

‘I knew we should have
blindfolded her.’  Phantom muttered.

‘I agree it would have been
easier, but unfortunately it is actually a legal requirement for the bride to
be able to see who she is marrying.’

‘Well you can’t carry her down
the aisle, or whatever you want to call that.’  Phantom glanced
disdainfully at the path through the crowd.

‘Why is it so bright?’ 
Mistral asked in a dazed voice.

‘It’s a wedding Mistral.’
 Phantasm explained patiently.  ‘Everyone has dressed up.’

She stared around wildly at the
twins to realise that they were wearing dark blue shirts and new-looking black
trousers.  She noted dimly that Phantom had been right, blue did suit them
… then her gaze was dragged back to the throng of people in front of her. 
There were so many!  And all of them looking at her.  She began to
shake uncontrollably.

‘How are we going to get her to
move?’  Phantom hissed urgently.  ‘Can’t we just use our gift?’

‘No.  She’s going to have to
do it herself.’

Mistral’s eyes moved jerkily over
the crowd, seeking out the one face that would make her even manage a single
step.  With a growing sense of panic she realised that she couldn’t see
the familiar black-shirted figure of Fabian anywhere.

‘Where is he?’  she cried in
a hysterical whisper.

‘There –’

Mistral followed Phantom’s
pointing finger with her eyes and saw the figure in the white shirt she had
noticed earlier, standing beneath the archway.

She narrowed her eyes and
stared.  The dark hair was definitely his, a tousled mass hanging nearly
to his shoulders … but a white shirt?

‘You didn’t think he’d be in his
usual tatty attire did you?’  Phantasm asked in a weary voice. 
‘Honestly, you two are so well matched, both unwilling to give up your scruffy
clothes.’

Mistral continued to stare at
Fabian in frozen silence, willing him to come and get her.

‘I’ve heard of reluctant grooms
being dragged from the local tavern to get married but never a reluctant
bride!’  Brutus exclaimed in a low voice.  ‘All of the girls my
brother asks normally start trying to get him down the aisle the same day!’

Mistral stared at Fabian, desperately
needing to see his eyes, to hear his velvet voice telling her that she could do
this, but he was too far away for her to even make out his face clearly. 
With a brightness to rival the sun appearing from behind a cloud Fabian’s aura
exploded around his head in a startling haze of bright yellow.  She
instantly smiled and felt her racing heart slow.  Fabian was happy. 
The aura continued to shimmer and swirl brightly against the blue sky. 
Mistral gazed at it, drawing strength from the colour of his emotions only for
her heart to stall when twin orbs of white and amethyst suddenly bloomed,
threatening to eclipse the glorious yellow.

‘I wish he’d come and get her,
this is started to get embarrassing.’  Phantom whispered.

‘He won’t.’  Mistral said quietly. 
‘I have to want to go down to him.’

She stared again at the fear and
trepidation in his aura.  He obviously thought she was going to back out,
turn and run, leave him standing there alone.  Her heart twisted. 
How could he think that?

Taking a deep breath Mistral
forced her leaden feet to move.  She took one faltering step, then another
and suddenly she was running.  Grabbing the hem of her dress to stop her
from falling she sprinted down the path with Prospero bounding along beside her,
barking joyously.  She ran into the square, feeling the cobbles beneath
her fragile shoes, passing by a blurred sea of faces, not seeing anyone but the
tall figure waiting for her at the end.  In three long strides Fabian
reached her and she flung herself into his open arms.  Sweeping her from
her feet he carried her the last few steps to stand beneath the arch with her
still held in his arms.  He didn’t speak but looked down at her with an
expression of such wild joy that all of her fears instantly vanished. 

Setting her down lightly on her
feet, Fabian took both her hands and looked intently into her eyes. 
Mistral gazed back, feeling again the same helpless sensation of falling until
she was completely immersed in those fathomless depths, black and utterly divine. 
She slowly became aware of a high, sighing voice and realised hazily that the
Divinus was conducting the ceremony.  She had absolutely no idea what he
was saying.  There was nothing in her world apart from the man holding her
hands and looking at her with an expression of such complete and utter love
that she never wanted to look away.  

Suddenly she heard Fabian’s
velvet voice speaking but couldn’t make out the words.  He fell silent
then gazed at her, his expression expectant, making her realise dully that he
was waiting for her to respond to something the Divinus had said.

‘Er … yes?’ she whispered
uncertainly and Fabian’s face instantly blazed with a look of triumph. 
Raising both her hands up to his lips, he kissed them tenderly.  When he
released them she realised that he had slipped a ring onto her finger.

Mistral stared at the silver
ring.  It was a simple band, unadorned save for a cluster of black stones
set flat into the metal.  She ran a finger over the design and
smiled.  A snowflake.  She was a De Winter now.   

The Divinus spoke again and
Fabian abruptly bent his head and kissed her.  This was no kiss of duty
but one of sheer joy.  It was over.  Ecstatic with relief Mistral
flung her arms around him, returning his embrace with unadulterated abandonment. 

And suddenly her world was no
longer silent and vague but made of noise. 

The village square erupted into a
roar of cheers and applause.  People surged around them, offering effusive
congratulations.  Still in Fabian’s arms, Mistral stared dazedly up at
him.  His face was lit with a glorious wild glow that left her oblivious
to the meaningless noise around them until a silken voice murmured in her ear.

‘Pint for the Lady De Winter is
it?’

Mistral jerked round to meet the
laughing green eyes of the twins.

‘Don’t lose your temper
now.’  Phantom chided.  ‘You’ve done so well.’

A powerful feeling of relief
flooded through her.  It was all over.  She was married.  Now
came the fun part.

‘A drink would be most welcome,’
she responded politely.  ‘Is there any champagne?’

Phantom grinned, ‘Been a Lady all
of five minutes and already expects only the best!’