The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams) (68 page)

BOOK: The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams)
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‘Fabian!  Wait!’ 

He stopped and Mistral ran to
him.  She slowed to a walk, finally halting before him.

‘You’ll get soaked –’ she began
to slowly unbutton his shirt.

Fabian froze, his face
expressionless, but his eyes … they seared into hers with an intensity that
burned.  Without taking her gaze from his she unfastened the last button
and slid her hands beneath the thin cotton, pushing it away to reveal the
scarred skin of her dreams.  She ran her hands across the lean muscles of
his chest, luxuriating in the sensation of them tensing when he pulled her
closer.  Closing her eyes, Mistral let every thought leave her mind to
live solely in that one blissful moment, wishing it could go on for ever. 
All too soon he was sighing her name in a softly exhaled plea.

‘Mistral –’

She let her touch linger on his
sun-warmed skin for a moment longer then reluctantly stepped away, for once she
the one to release him.  She watched him stride back to the pool, admiring
the lithe grace with which he moved over the rocks to reach the waterfall,
never once hesitating or losing his balance.  Turning quickly, he stepped
beneath the waterfall itself, vanishing from her sight into the cave.

Mistral held her breath,
listening for any sounds of a fight.  She reached around to the back of
her belt, wrapping her fingers around the hilt of her dagger, her grip
tightening with every second that dragged by.

‘Nothing!’  Fabian’s voice
echoed out from the cave. 

Mistral released her held breath
in a rush of relief then abruptly stopped breathing again when Fabian
reappeared through the waterfall.  He was soaked but didn’t seem to notice. 
Water rolled from his bare shoulders, leaving the skin glistening white. 
She stared, transfixed by the tiny rivulets of silver sliding down his
back.  He was so beautiful it made her heart ache.  He reached the
bank and began to walk towards her.  She noticed distractedly that more
drops shone in his hair and clung, diamond-bright, to every eyelash.

He stopped a short distance away
from her, a dripping wet statue of perfection.  Her Mage.  They
stared wordlessly at each other until Fabian finally spoke, his voice strained
and hoarse. 

‘Please.  Go and take your
swim Mistral.’

She held his burning stare for
the length of another heartbeat, a deep sonorous boom that vibrated through her
chest, so loud she was sure he could hear it too.  Abruptly she turned and
strode towards the pool, kicking off her boots and yanking her shirt over her
head as she went.  She ran the last few steps to the water’s edge and
dived in, still wearing her trousers.

Mistral stayed under until she was
desperate for air, needing the water’s cooling touch on both her body and her
mind.  Breaking the surface with a gasp, she trod water awkwardly,
hampered by her sodden trousers, and immediately regretted her impulsive
action.  The only dry trousers she now had were the ones Melsina had given
her.

Cursing under her breath she swam
back towards the bank with Prospero paddling along in her wake, a struggling
fish clamped between his jaws.  Leaving her dog to his breakfast, Mistral
pulled herself out onto the rocks and looked around for Fabian.  He had
put his shirt on and was sat with his back towards her.  She noticed with
a sigh that the sun had already dried the water from his hair and no doubt also
burned away the passion she had seen in his eyes earlier.

Reaching grumpily for her
discarded shirt she pulled it on and walked over to him.

He looked up, his expression
polite, ‘Better?’

‘Not really,’ she scowled,
indicating to her wet trousers with an irritated wave.  ‘I’m going to have
to put on those other ones that make me look –’ she pulled a face and struggled
for the words to describe how horribly exposed she felt in the close-fitting
black trousers.

‘Ravishing.’  Fabian
finished quietly and passed her saddlebag over. 

Mistral snorted and opened the flap
of her saddlebag, yanking out the trousers and a clean shirt, ‘More like one of
those damned nymphs my brothers seem so intent on wearing out!’

Fabian smiled and watched her
march away to change her clothes.

 

The
Final Event

Fabian and Mistral returned to
the camp just as Phantom arrived back from the registration tent, grinning and
waving an official looking piece of parchment.

‘I’ve got the details of the
final event!’  he called excitedly. 

‘Share brother, share!’ 
Xerxes called out, reaching automatically into the top pocket of his jerkin for
his tattered betting sheet.  ‘I’ve been taking bets on what it’ll entail
all weekend!’

‘I’ll bet you have.’
 Phantom said under his breath.  ‘Just give me a minute –’ he folded
his lean body gracefully down onto the ground beside his brother and scanned
the parchment rapidly.  ‘Oh!’ 

‘What?’  Mistral demanded
eagerly, dropping down at his side to try and peer at the parchment.

‘It’s quite an event!’

‘What exactly does it entail
Phantom?’  Fabian asked tersely.

Phantom glanced up and almost
flinched when he met Fabian’s glacial look, ‘Sorry, just, well – I’ve never
seen so many endangered species up for the chop in one go before.’

Mistral let out an excited squeak
and Fabian continued to stare at Phantom, ‘Please, enlighten us.'

‘Well, let’s start with the
contentious issue.  Each competitor gets to nominate a second to take into
the Arena with them.’

‘Which won’t be you.  Mage.’
 Saul muttered. 

A muscle jumped in Fabian’s jaw
but he didn’t take the bait.

‘So, these seconds, do they fight
too or what?’  Xerxes promptly briskly.

‘Wait –’ Phantom frowned, reading
further down the parchment.  ‘No ... they get to assist –’  

‘Assist?’  Xerxes
scoffed.  ‘You mean cheer and shout encouragement?  What use is that?’

‘No, you misunderstand.’
 Phantom held up a hand impatiently.  ‘Give me a second … ha! 
They can offer guidance, re-load, pass weapons, and also patch up any wounds
that might prevent their competitor from continuing, er –’

Phantom shrank slightly from the
sudden intensity of Fabian’s glare.

‘– although I’m sure Mistral
won’t sustain wounds of any kind.’

 ‘I choose Cain.’
 Mistral said quickly.

 ‘Cain?’  Fabian looked
at her sharply.

‘Yes.  He can patch me up better
than anyone if I manage to lose a limb, or something equally disastrous!’
 Mistral laughed then caught Fabian’s expression and instantly
stopped.  ‘Sorry.  Um, what I really mean is that Cain deserves to be
in the Arena today, more than I do in fact.  He nearly won the horse race
and he’s competed in more events than me.’

‘I accept!’  Cain said
promptly and grinned at Mistral. 

‘Saul.’  Grendel grunted.

‘Sure about that Grendel?’ 
Brutus asked.  ‘Only, I’m fairly handy with a sword too you know.’

‘Injured.’  Grendel looked
pointedly at Brutus’ stitched arm.

‘I’m hale, hearty, and
willing!’  Xerxes offered with a wink.

‘Huh!  You’ll be taking bets
while I take a beating!’  Grendel snorted.  ‘No, I’ll stick with the
yarthkin.’

‘Right, now that’s settled, read
out the details brother!’  Cain called enthusiastically.

‘Just give me a damned moment
will you?’  Phantom muttered, looking harassed.  ‘Right, so we have
the five finalists: Mistral, Grendel, Bellona – that’s the scary amazon who won
the melee, Ares – the elf that Phantasm threw his sword duel to,’ Phantom
paused to give his brother a reproachful look, ‘and finally Dravite; he’s one
of the centaurs.  Together with their seconds they will each face one of
five beasts –’

‘And they are?’  Mistral demanded
breathlessly.

‘A gryphon, a manticore, a
gargoyle, a sphinx, and a chimera.’

‘Really?’  Mistral burst,
oblivious to Fabian’s increasingly stony expression.

‘There’s a final creature to
overcome … a gorgon.  Whoever deals the death blow to the gorgon wins the
competition.’

‘A gorgon!’  Mistral echoed
in an awestruck voice.  ‘I wonder … do you think Bryden will let us keep
the skin for armour?’

‘Let’s focus on how to kill it
first.’  Phantom pointed out practically.

‘Simple!’  Mistral
cried.  ‘Stab it!’

Phantom eyed Fabian warily. 
He was bone-white and staring rigidly at Mistral’s wildly glowing face. 

‘Hmm, let’s run through some of
these creatures and their known weak points shall we?’  Phantom continued
quickly.  ‘Gryphons – ’

‘Never had the pleasure.’
 Mistral shrugged happily.  ‘But I’m really looking forward to it!’

‘Beaks, claws, wings … what can I
say?  A fearsome opponent.’  Brutus offered helpfully. 
‘Although, the wings will probably have been clipped to stop it from flying
away, so it’s going to be just the talons and sharp beak to worry about.’

‘Clipped?’  Mistral shook
her head.  ‘The poor thing.’  

‘Grendel?’  Phantasm said
quickly, ignoring Mistral’s disappointed expression.  ‘Did you bring any
sarisas?’

Grendel gave his universal response,
a grunt.

‘Good.  Take one into the
Arena with you.  It’ll be useful for fending off some of these creatures.’

‘Right!  Next on the list.’
 Phantom slid his finger down the parchment.  ‘Manticore –’

‘Easy!’  Mistral cried
enthusiastically.  ‘I’ll get that one!  They love my scent!’

‘I think they’ll prefer you to
the amazon.  She’s barely going to register as female.’  Xerxes
muttered.

‘Just avoid the poison barbs in
the tail.’  Cain hid a wink behind his raised waterskin.

‘Hush brother!’  Mistral hissed,
glancing anxiously at Fabian. 

‘So, tackle that one with
what?’  Phantom frowned at Mistral.  ‘Crossbow?’

‘No chance!  Sword or
dagger!  Anything less is just not worthwhile!  What’s next
brother?’  Mistral clapped her hands together eagerly. 

Noting the glowering look Fabian
was giving her, Phantom quickly returned his attention to the parchment in his
hand, ‘Gargoyle –’

‘Behead the nasty little
beasts!’ 

‘Squash them.’  Grendel
agreed in a low growl.

‘Nice response.’  Phantom
murmured and moved his finger down the parchment.  ‘Which brings us to the
sphinx.’

‘New one on me.  Basically a
big cat though isn’t it?’  Mistral enquired brightly.

‘Not quite.’  Fabian snapped
icily.  ‘They are creatures with telepathic powers capable of disabling
their enemy, effectively making them defenceless.’

‘So it’s a big cat with a gift
like the twins have.’  Mistral summarised then shrugged.  ‘It still
bleeds right?  No problem’s there then.  Next!’

Phantom ducked his head to hide
from the fury in Fabian’s gaze, ‘Chimera –’

Mistral hid a smile and caught
Fabian’s eye, recalling their chimera hunt.  Just the two of them, the
mountains and a savage creature to hunt.  Heaven.

‘Mistral?’

‘Yes?’  she looked up
guiltily, caught out.

‘You’ve hunted a chimera before
haven’t you?’

‘Yes.  It was great.’ her
voice trailed off dreamily.

‘I’m sure it was.’  Phantom
muttered drily.  ‘But can you tell Grendel and your seconds anything that
might be useful?’

‘Er, well … we stalked it and
took it down with daggers.’  Mistral turned to gaze at Fabian with shining
eyes.  ‘Do you remember?  It was snowing and the chimera had its
winter coat.  We could barely see it!’

‘I remember.’  

‘But was it easy to take
down?’  Phantom demanded impatiently.

‘No!  It fought like
hell!’  Mistral exclaimed.  ‘In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever hunted
such challenging prey!  I hope I get that one this afternoon!’

‘I don’t.’  Fabian said
flatly.

‘So.’  Phantom said loudly
to cover the sudden tension between Mistral and Fabian.  ‘That brings us
to the final beast.  The winner will be whoever defeats the gorgon.’

‘They’re so rare!’  Brutus
exclaimed.  ‘I can’t believe Bryden managed to get one for the festival.’

‘He must’ve called in some
favours.’  Phantasm agreed.  ‘Not least of all at the Council. 
They’re a protected species.’ 

‘Protected!  I’d like to see
someone try and protect one of those things!’  Brutus shook his
head.  ‘They’re meant to be unbelievably vicious!’ 

‘Where would you like me to
begin?’  Fabian’s voice was granite hard.  ‘Perhaps the fact that
gorgon skin is used to make the toughest armour money can buy provides you with
some idea of how difficult they are to kill.’

‘Is it true that one look from
their eyes can turn you to stone?’  Mistral breathed, her eyes lit with a
fanatical gleam.

‘Myth.’  Fabian snapped then
continued in a more measured tone.  ‘However, they are possessed of a
powerfully hypnotic stare that renders their victim helpless to their attack.’

‘No stone?’  Mistral sounded
slightly disappointed.  ‘And the hair?  Snakes?  Is that real or
myth too?’

‘Real.’  Fabian confirmed
shortly.  ‘However, that should be the least of your concerns.  If
the gorgon is close enough for you to be in danger from the snakes on its head
then you are already dead.  They are formidable archers.’

‘But it won’t be armed today will
it?  Or it would’ve taken out Bryden’s elves by now!’  Mistral
laughed, not seeming to notice when no-one else joined in.  ‘So, crossbow
from a distance or swords if I get close enough.’  she concluded breezily.

‘A crossbow would be too
cumbersome to carry through the first round of creatures.’  Phantasm
ventured thoughtfully. 

‘Cain?’  Fabian turned to
fix him with a hard look.  ‘As Mistral’s second, will you carry a crossbow
for her?’

‘Of course –’

‘I think that was my question to
ask wasn’t it?’  Mistral cut in sharply.

‘Can you thicken a poison into
paste so that it can be smeared onto the bolts in advance?’  Fabian
continued, ignoring Mistral.

‘Good idea.’  Cain nodded
and reached for his saddlebag.  ‘I could use chalk powder to thicken a
hemlock brew I’ve got.  I think that would work quite well.’

‘Grendel?’

Grendel squinted at Fabian.

‘Could I request that you protect
Mistral as much as you can during the event?’

‘Just hold on Fabian!’ 
Mistral cried.  ‘You obviously think I’m incapable of competing without
having my hand held but could you just try and remember that I actually managed
to earn my place in the final without your interference?’ 

‘Mistral.  For once, please
just try to be sensible –’

‘Sensible?  You mean be
nurse-maided through the damned event!’  Mistral flared.  ‘Well I
won’t be sensible because I can’t!  I think the wretched harpy hunt showed
us that didn’t it?  I can’t be sensible and I can’t keep a promise … a selfish,
reckless liar, that’s me!’

‘Right!  I’ll go mix the
poison!’  Cain announced, rising quickly to his feet and vanishing into
the tent.

‘I think that we need to tend to
the horses.’  Xerxes gave his brother a meaningful look and hurried away,
swiftly followed swiftly by Xerxes.

‘Lunch needs to be prepared.’
 Phantasm said, glancing pointedly at his twin who nodded quickly.

Grendel merely grunted and
stomped off in the direct of the nymph tent.

‘I’ll be over here if you need me
Mistral.’  Saul walked over the far side of their camp and began to
sharpen his sword.

Mistral glared silently at Fabian
while her brothers made their excuses and left.  They moment they were all
gone she opened her mouth but Fabian cut across her in a quiet voice.

‘Mistral, you are not selfish and
you are not a liar.’

‘No?  Then I’m worse! 
I can’t keep a promise to the man I love!  What does that make me?’ 

Fabian smiled, ‘Wilful, impulsive
… mine.’

‘Oh Fabian!’  Mistral let
out an angry breath.  ‘I will always be yours, but I let you and my
brothers down today.  Please, please don’t make Grendel wreck his own
chances of winning by asking him to babysit me.’

Fabian sighed and reached out to
take her hand.  He turned it over, tracing her lifeline with a frown, ‘I
would rather be the one looking after you Mistral.’ 

Mistral fought the distracting
lure of his touch, clinging vainly to her fading anger to mutter
half-heartedly, ‘You could actually try and have a little faith in my
abilities.’

‘I do not doubt that you could
win this event Mistral.  You have the skills, courage and complete
disregard for your own life to make you the perfect competitor.’  Fabian
paused to look intently at her.  ‘But this is not just about winning the
festival.’

‘How could I forget?’ 
Mistral snatched her hand from his.  ‘It’s all about the damned
Sight!  Surely I can’t be the only wretched Seer on the Isle!’

Fabian regarded her patiently,
‘Tell me what Imperato told you about Seers.’

Mistral made a dismissive
gesture, ‘He told me that his tribe had produced three Seers over the last
thousand years, so?’

‘And with the Divinus, that makes
four … in a thousand years.  How common is that?’

Mistral glared at him until her
defiant expression wilted, ‘Not very,’ she admitted then scowled.  ‘So,
Sight is rare and I’m the lucky one supposed to have it!  But I don’t have
it do I?  It’s so frustrating Fabian!  All my life I’ve done exactly
what I’ve wanted and now I feel like I’m beholden to everyone – the whole Isle
in fact!

Fabian sighed and reached for her
hand again, but Mistral pulled back sharply, denying him her touch.

‘No Fabian, don’t talk me round
like you always do!  You, the twins, Leo, even Mage Grapple!  You all
want to change me into something I’m never going to be!  I feel like
everyone is pushing and pulling me in different directions until I hardly know
what I want anymore.’  she paused and shook her head.  ‘Apart from
you that is.’

Fabian smiled, his dark gaze
instantly drawing her in.  When he reached for her hand again she didn’t
resist but gazed helplessly, adrift in the black pools of his eyes.

BOOK: The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams)
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