The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams) (67 page)

‘Second!’

‘What?’  Samson
roared.  ‘Who got more than us?’

‘Centaurs, with six –’

‘Damn it!’  Samson swore,
banging his fist into his hand with frustration.  ‘I thought we had
another place in the final for certain with four!’

‘You can take my place Samson.’
 Mistral offered, the quietness of her voice letting him know that she was
serious.

He shook his head, scowling heavily,
‘I think the officials would notice that I’m not you Mistral.’

‘Oh, I don’t know.’  Phantom
eyed Mistral’s bedraggled appearance.  ‘You two look quite similar at the
moment.’

‘You could do with a tidy up
before you represent the Ri in the final.’  Phantasm remarked, reaching
over to pull a leaf from her hair.  ‘Would you like to go for a
wash?  I can come and keep guard.’

‘Thanks, but Fabian’s coming with
me.’  Mistral quickly kicked Cirrus on to hide the blush creeping over her
face.

‘Mage De Winter’s taking you to
the pool?’  Phantasm hissed when he caught her up.  ‘You know the two
of you shouldn’t be alone together, especially not in situations that involved
being undressed!’

Mistral turned to glare at him,
her initial embarrassment giving way to anger, ‘We are married you know!
’

‘Don’t be obtuse Mistral! 
You know what I’m referring to!  You two can’t be together until you have
the Sight!’

Mistral turned away, her
expression haughty, ‘Fabian’s a perfect gentleman.’   

‘I doubt you have any notion of
what constitutes gentlemanly behaviour!’  Phantasm snorted.  ‘But let
me tell you this Mistral, even gentlemen have their limits and you are
certainly no lady!’ 

‘I am actually.  I’ve got
the title to prove it.’

Phantasm pinched the bridge of
his nose, fighting to hold his temper, ‘Mistral.  Really.  Is this
wise?’ 

‘Perfectly.’  Fabian replied
coolly, riding up alongside Phantasm.  ‘However, I do appreciate your
continued concern for my wife’s wellbeing.’

Phantasm was at once stiffly
polite, ‘Mage De Winter.  I should be more than happy to escort Mistral to
the pool.’

‘Thank you, but your offer is
unnecessary.’

‘Fighting over you now are
they?’  Phantom whispered to Mistral, jogging up alongside her on Mars.

‘Don’t!  I want to
die!  Come on, let’s leave them to it!’ she muttered and kicked Cirrus
into a canter, leaving Phantasm and Fabian to continue their
conversation. 

Phantasm watched Mistral and his
twin ride on ahead before speaking, his tone clipped, ‘I sincerely hope you are
not labouring under the misconception that I would behave inappropriately.’

‘No Phantasm, I do not think that
of you.’  Fabian replied flatly.  ‘I know that the bond you two share
is very different to mine.’

Phantasm frowned, ‘If not that, then
you have other concerns?’

Fabian nodded once and glanced
over at Mistral and Phantom, her dark head bent close to his blond while he
whispered something that made her laugh.

‘Columbine.’

‘But there was no sign of her in
The Emerald Forests.’  Phantasm’s brow furrowed.  ‘We searched for
tracks and there were none, and I don’t recall Columbine being particularly
adept at woodcraft during our apprenticeship.’

‘And shouldn’t the lack of
evidence that she has been living there give more reason for concern?’ 

Phantasm’s frown deepened, ‘I am
not sure I follow your thinking.  To me it appears that she has fled.’

‘Or not gone anywhere at all.’

Phantasm’s face cleared, ‘Of
course!  Oh, that’s clever!  Almost all of the Arcanes were out of
the Vale for the hunt, either watching or taking part!  It would provide
the perfect opportunity for Columbine to move around the camp undetected and
conceal herself somewhere close to where Mistral will be!’

Fabian nodded tensely, ‘Samson
and I reached the very same conclusion.  Columbine was almost successful
in her attempt on Mistral’s life at the pool before and I believe that she may
well try there again.’

Phantasm looked up to watch
Phantom pulling another leaf from Mistral’s hair, earning himself an ungrateful
slap on the arm in the process. 

‘She saved my brother’s life
today,’ he said quietly.  ‘But I was too angry to thank her.’

Fabian watched Phantom rubbing
his arm and complaining while Mistral laughed. 

‘I think she would willingly die
for you two.  I am sure she would not expect or even desire your
gratitude.’ 

‘And we would die for her
too.’  Phantasm responded then sighed.  ‘Nearly have a few times
actually.’

Fabian gave a short laugh,
‘Near-death experiences do seem to follow my wife around like a shadow.’

‘Your wife.’  Phantasm mused
softly and gave Fabian a sideways look.  ‘I’ve heard you say that a lot
today.  Is it a phrase that pleases you because of its novelty or its
meaning?’

Fabian turned, the smile on his
lips not touching his eyes, ‘You doubt me still?’

‘I see you freshly returned from
an assassination Contract to a wife you left.  Two things you swore never
to do again.’

‘Life is not like the pages of a
book Phantasm.  There are no rules when it comes to how I feel about
Mistral.  I would kill anyone –’ he paused, his cold eyes full of unspoken
meaning ‘– who threatened to hurt what is mine.’

‘Mistral is not a possession!’

‘Is she not?  I beg to
differ.  I see her as something precious to be treasured, protected and
cared for, by whatever means necessary.  Do I own her?  Why not ask
of her the same about me?  But I’m sure you know the answer already. 
I am hers and she is mine.  We belong to each other.  And so do you
by the way.  But that’s something else you already know.’ 

Fabian abruptly urged Spirit on,
leaving Phantasm alone with his thoughts in the middle of a celebrating crowd
of Ri warriors.  Despite not having won the hunting event they had secured
two places in the final and were looking forward to an afternoon of
entertainment.

‘There’s no shame in losing to a
centaur in a hunting event anyway, everyone knows they could shoot mosquitos
with a bow!’  Jareth was saying loudly.

‘Still, it would have been good
to have three of the Ri in the final.  Might have knocked some stigma from
being a half-breed –’

‘Or make them look down on us
even more!’  Jareth argued.  ‘No doubt Bryden would decide that
having mixed blood somehow gives an unfair advantage.  Huh!  He’d
probably go and invent some limit on how much Mage blood you could have to be
eligible to enter next time!’

‘Brothers!  We mustn’t be
greedy.’  Samson laughed and slapped the sweating neck of his horse. 
‘We have two places in the final; any more would be frankly embarrassing! 
Now, there’s just time for a drink or three before the final begins. 
First round’s on me!’

Samson pulled his horse to a halt
by the beer tent and was swiftly joined by most of the other warriors. 
Talking and laughing loudly, they dismounted and vanished into the tent.

‘That’s the last we’ll see of
them until the final starts.’  Phantom glanced over at the already rowdy
interior of the tent.  ‘I think I’ll go collect the details of the final
from the registration tent.  See you back at the camp.’

Mistral watched him ride off along
the avenue of tents before looking round for Fabian.  He was still talking
to Phantasm, his expression serious.  She was glad they didn’t appear to
be arguing anymore.  Whistling Prospero, who was casting hungry looks in
the direction of the fairies again, Mistral pushed her tired horse into a
canter back towards their tent.

By the time she had turned Cirrus
out and fed Prospero some leftover meat, the rest of her brothers had returned.

‘Why are you lot here and not in
the beer tent?’  Mistral asked with a surprised look.

‘We’re hiding Xerxes.’ 
Brutus explained with a rueful grin.  ‘He owes too much money on that
hunt.’

‘It’s not funny!’  Xerxes
snapped.  ‘I took some really good odds on us winning, which we nearly
did!’

‘But nearly’s not good enough is
it brother?’  Brutus sighed, playing the patronising older brother. 
‘And I really can’t believe that even you would take a bet against a centaur in
a hunting event.’

Xerxes scowled angrily and
muttered something under his breath.

‘What’s that brother?’ 
Brutus frowned.  ‘Blaming the beer again?  That’s the excuse Marietta
said you always use –’

Xerxes cut him off with a few
choice words and stormed out of the tent, letting the canvas flap fall closed
with a forceful snap.

‘Oh dear, “Exceptional Lover” crown
slipped a bit further has it?’  Cain remarked, strolling back with Saul
after turning their horses out.

‘I think it’s more of a necklace
than a crown now.’ 

Mistral listened to their
merciless teasing with a smile while she unbuckled her armour.  It was a
relief when the last piece dropped to the ground, leaving her sweat-damp shirt
clinging to her back.  She was looking forward to a cooling swim; maybe
even trying to persuade Fabian to join her. 

Picking up her saddlebag she
turned to see Fabian and Phantasm walking towards the camp.  Fabian was
looking at her, a smile lifting one corner of his mouth while his eyes
travelled over her torn trousers.  She would have blushed but Phantasm’
recent comments about her being no lady made her hold her head a little higher
and stride confidently towards him, heedless of the rips revealing more than a
lady ever should. 

‘Ready?’  Fabian enquired
softly.

 A hundred inappropriate
responses filled her mind.  Determined to be the lady she voiced none but
smiled her yes and even managed a thank you when he took her saddlebag and
slung it over his shoulder.  Ignoring Phantasm completely, Mistral took
Fabian’s hand and walked away, feeling quite pleased with her
performance. 

Saul walked out of the tent to
see Mistral and Fabian walking away hand in hand with Prospero trotting along
at their heels.

‘Where’s she going?  We need
to plan the final!’

‘For a wash probably.’  Cain
replied disinterestedly and rummaged in his saddlebag for some food.  ‘She
looked like bought half the forest back in her hair –’

‘To the pool?  With
him?’  Saul interrupted.

Cain looked up with a frown, ‘It
would appear so brother, what’s it to you?’ 

‘You know why!’

‘Yes, yes, much to Mistral’s
displeasure I think the whole Isle knows that she must remain the lovely sweet
innocent creature she is until her gift is mastered.’  Cain muttered with
a roll of his eyes.  ‘But no-one wants her to achieve Sight more than her
Mage does, so I really think she’s going to be perfectly safe with him.’

‘Safe?  With a stone-cold
killer like De Winter?’ 

‘I wasn’t referring to him
killing her.’

Saul scowled and began to pace
agitatedly, continually glancing over at the receding figures of Fabian and
Mistral. 

Cain watched him for a moment
then threw his saddlebag down in frustration, ‘Look brother, you really are
going to have to drop your infatuation with her!  She will get the Sight
one day and then she will be his, completely.’

Saul paused in his pacing and
looked at Cain, his expression thoughtful, ‘Maybe, but until that day arrives
–’  

‘No!’  Cain cut in
sharply.  ‘You do not have a chance, or a hope, or even a prayer! 
What you do have is a death wish!  Right, that’s it!  As soon as the
damned final is over I’m taking you to the nymph tent and no arguments!  I
could even find you one with dark hair and a bad-temper if you want!’

Saul shot him a disgusted look
and stalked into the tent.

Mistral cast long sideways looks
at Fabian as they walked.  She didn’t want to be caught staring but she loved
to look at him, admiring his sharply defined cheek bones, and his skin, so pale
beneath the tousle of dark hair, gleaming like polished jet in the sunlight.

She sighed deeply.  Her
happiness was so nearly complete but for that final missing piece, so
insignificant compared to how much she already loved him, yet still it rubbed
like a grain of sand.  She found herself musing that it was unusual for
Fabian to willingly put them in a situation where temptation, with a little
help, might overcome them.  A suspicion crept into her mind, making her
turn to him with a frown.

‘Fabian?’

He looked at her, his dark gaze
gently enquiring.

‘Why are you coming with me and
not the twins?  You don’t really think anything untoward of Phantasm do
you?’

He shook his head unconcernedly,
‘No, of course not.’

‘But, then … why?’ she let her
voice trail off, suddenly hopeful that Fabian wanted to accompany her for
another reason altogether.

‘I suspect that Columbine may
have used the opportunity of the Vale being almost entirely empty to conceal
herself near to you again.’   

‘Oh.’  Mistral couldn’t
disguise the sudden disappointment she felt.

Fabian immediately halted and
turned to face her.  Lifting her hand to his lips he caressed the skin
softly, gazing at her with eyes of darkest night.

‘Our time will come Mistral, you
must know it.’

She gazed at him for a long
moment, her expression hesitant, ‘Sometimes … I – I see things … the future, I
think ... and I know they are real.  But it’s only ever in my dreams.’

‘Tell me what you dream of
Mistral.’

She gazed back, trapped in the
velvet prison of his eyes, ‘You.  I only ever dream of you.’

He smiled and pulled her closer,
into the bittersweet pleasure of his embrace, releasing her, as ever, long
before she wanted him to.

‘Wait here for me.’

Mistral was left blinking dazedly
in the bright sunlight.  She was surprised to see they had reached the
pool, which was mercifully deserted save for Prospero doing excited
circuits.  She turned to watch Fabian striding over to the waterfall
concealing the cave where she and Columbine had fought.  As he approached
the edge of the pool to climb across to the waterfall Mistral suddenly called
out.