The Seer (103 page)

‘ … some
land is too barren to farm ...’

Mistral
listened to Golden reliving her lover’s callous jibe to his party and felt her
shame and misery.  Golden’s thoughts abruptly changed, startling Mistral
with the conflicting rush of joy and despair that greeted the image of Leo
bursting into her mind.  Mistral nearly gasped out aloud at the intensity
of emotion in Golden’s thoughts.  She still loved Leo.  She had
gambled on his love and lost.  Mistral suddenly Saw all of her plans and
how each one had gone disastrously wrong … kissing Phantasm during Qualifying
in an attempt to make Leo jealous had only initiated his rejection of her …
marrying Putreo only for him to be killed by the Rochfortes mere weeks later,
leaving her the stark choice of being destitute or becoming the lover of her
husband’s murderer, Etienne Rochforte.  But that had failed too, Etienne
had died alone and insane in dark depths of an oubliette, leaving Golden
forsaken again.  Christophe had been her salvation, but it had come at a
heavy price.  He was cold and uncaring towards her.  She was just a
creature of use to him, no more in his eyes than the dogs that ate beneath the
table at their banquets.  Golden was trapped in her own web.  She had
aligned herself with the Rochfortes and in doing so betrayed her homeland and
the only man she’d ever loved. 

Mistral had
Seen enough.  Breaking the connection she walked from the bathroom. 
Closing the door quietly behind her she turned to see her Mage.  Her
love.  There was no way she would ever risk losing him.  Phantasm was
right, Golden had lost, but the knowledge gave her no satisfaction, it was a
hollow victory.

Seeing her
bleak look Fabian was instantly before her, gazing anxiously into her eyes,
‘What is it?  Are you feeling unwell?’ 

‘No,’ she
sighed and cast a glance at the closed bathroom door.  ‘Golden’s in
there.’

Fabian
immediately stiffened and half-turned towards the bathroom, ‘I will deal with
this!’ 

‘Wait, Fabian
… please –’ Mistral whispered, catching hold of his hand and pulling him
towards her. 

‘Did she try
to hurt you?’  he suddenly asked, his face hardening into the cold mask
that Mistral hated to see.

‘No, nothing
like that.  We didn’t even speak – I just … heard her.’

Fabian’s face
instantly cleared.  Moving quickly to her side he placed an arm around her
again and began to walk back towards the banqueting hall.  ‘Tell me.’

Mistral didn’t
reply but reached for his hand.  Lifting it to her lips she kissed the
palm then placed it over their unborn child, smiling when he kicked against the
touch, making Fabian’s face blaze with the glorious look of triumph she adored.

‘Is this what
she was thinking of?’  He murmured softly.

Mistral
nodded, ‘Christophe saw me tonight and mocked Golden in front of the other
Rochfortes for being a barren half-breed.’

Fabian’s face
was expressionless, ‘Sometimes revenge occurs naturally.’

‘I suppose,’
Mistral glanced over her shoulder at the closed bathroom door, ‘but it would’ve
been far more satisfying to have actually had a fight.’

Laughing
softly, Fabian escorted her back to their places at the table.  Mistral was
glad to see that the fish course had been removed and a large plate of roast
beef was waiting in its place.

‘At last,
something that actually looks like it’s meant to be eaten!  I’m
starving!’  she exclaimed, sitting down and reaching randomly for a knife
and fork from the extensive selection laid out on either side of her plate.

Phantasm
sighed and reached over to pass her the correct cutlery.

The level of
noise in the room grew as the main course progressed; before long sufficient
wine had been consumed to encourage a slight relaxation in the formal
atmosphere.  An orchestra began to play, adding background music to the
general hubbub of talk and laughter.  Once the meat course had been
removed the guests started to move around the table, taking their chairs with
them to sit next to who they wanted to talk with.  The Ri were no longer
drinking, despite Phantom’s longing glances at the wine being passed along the
table he reluctantly accepted the glass of water a waiter placed before him.

‘We need to talk
Fabian.’  Leo muttered across the table.  Still ignoring the
relentless stream of chatter coming from Countess Whitley, he turned to look at
Phantom and Phantasm meaningfully.  ‘Lose the ornaments!’  he
instructed in a cold whisper.

The twins
nodded; their faces expressionless while they locked gazes across the table.
 Countess Whitley promptly stopped in the middle of a sentence and gazed
dreamily at the long glass doors.

‘You are
utterly charming, my young warrior,’ she quavered, patting Leo’s knee with a
bony hand.  ‘But I really must take a turn around the Council gardens …
they are truly sublime by moonlight –’

Leo didn’t
even acknowledge her while she rose unsteadily to her feet and trotted off
towards the glass doors.

Next, the lady
sat on the other side of Phantasm abruptly made her excuses and moved off in
the direction of the bathrooms with a vague expression on her face.

Taking
advantage of the fact that the formal seating plan seemed to have gone out of
the window, Leo and Phantom rose to their feet and strode quickly around the
long table to join Fabian, Mistral and Phantasm.

Mistral sat
back from them slightly, letting them talk while she continued to read the
delegates.  Occasionally a negative thought caught her attention,
requiring her to focus on one individual, but it was only the usual Council
staple of greed, envy and ambition ... with the addition of a few surprisingly
violent thoughts from some of the ladies present.  Listening with only
half an ear to Fabian and Leo conversing quietly with the twins, Mistral let
her gaze wander down the long table to meet the malignant black glare of
Malachi Nox.

‘Hello
Malachi,’ she mouthed.  His lips curled into a sneer and she smiled
sweetly in response, her eyes already misting over.  ‘Oh really?’ 
she murmured softly to herself while her eyes gazed dreamily at the ornate
plasterwork of the ceiling. 

Sighing deeply
several long minutes later, her eyes slid back into focus to see four pairs of
eyes staring intently at her, ‘Malachi,’ she responded in answer to the
unspoken question they jointly asked.

And?

‘And I refuse
to sit here talking to myself!’  Mistral snapped.  ‘If you want to
know something, do the decent thing and ask!  And a “please” now and then
wouldn’t go amiss either!’

Ah,
hormones again …

‘I’ll give you
hormones brother!’  Mistral snarled at Phantom.

‘Please,
Mistral, would you care to share with us what you heard in Malachi’s
mind?’  Phantasm asked politely.

‘Since you
asked so nicely,’ Mistral paused to give Phantom a glare, ‘yes, I shall, but I
want you to do one thing for me first.’

‘Oh?’ 
Phantasm’s expression was reserved. 

‘Make him
think he’s at sea.’

‘Our
pleasure!’  Phantom breathed and even Phantasm allowed himself a tiny
smile. 

Malachi’s
sneer suddenly became fixed and his face drained of what little colour it had,
clapping a hand to his mouth he lurched to his feet and staggered from the
room, already retching.

‘Enough
pranks!’  Leo hissed.  ‘It will not do for Malachi to realise the
depth of the twins’ gift!’

‘He’s put it
down to the food.’  Mistral said and pulled a face, quickly withdrawing
her mind from his.  ‘Anyway, that’s him out of the picture for a
bit.’  She took a sip of water before repeating the thoughts she’d plucked
from Malachi’s mind.  ‘Malachi … he is angry that I am here tonight, he
expected me to remain in the Valley and has even persuaded Christophe to send a
party of Rochfortes there to kidnap me –’

‘Make Bryden
and Samson aware of this now!’  Leo instructed the twins in a hard
whisper. 

While the
twins complied, Mistral continued to relay her findings, ‘Christophe has seen
me.  Malachi knows that he can no longer use his ignorance of my pregnancy
as leverage, we have forced him to act –’

‘What does he
intend to do Mistral?’  Fabian asked urgently.

Mistral shook
her head, her eyes vague once again, ‘I can’t See that yet … he is undecided …’
she blinked and focussed again on Fabian.  ‘What I do know is that he
intends to complain to Mage Grapple that you’ve brought a Seer and two mind controllers
to the meeting.  He’s going to demand that we’re excluded.’

Leo’s face
glowed with a suddenly victorious look, ‘He is unaware of the extent of the
Gemini’s power!’

Fabian’s face
remained expressionless; he was still not in full favour of using the twins’
gift to influence the outcome of the vote. 

‘Please
continue Mistral,’ he murmured quietly.

Mistral took
another sip of water, placing the glass tumbler back onto the table she gazed
at it meditatively,  ‘Malachi believes he’s successfully evaded my gift
and that we’re unaware of the plans to help return the Rochfortes to power.’
 Mistral stopped and shrugged.  ‘The rest is just his usual vitriolic
hatred, oh, he’s got a bloodlust too, and I don’t mean the fighting kind ...
he’s developed a taste for blood –’

‘How lovely.’
 Phantom murmured.  ‘I do hope he doesn’t intend to feed tonight.’

‘Where is he
now?’  Phantasm asked with an anxious look around the room. 

Mistral’s eyes
slid from his for a moment then snapped back into focus with a low laugh, ‘I
don’t believe it!’

‘What?’

‘He’s
practising his speech in the bathroom mirror!’

‘Good, I need
to hear it.’  Leo leaned forward and stared at her in anticipation.

Mistral’s face
fell slightly, ‘Really?  It’s not very interesting –’

‘Yes
Mistral!  Please focus on the reason you are here!’  Leo snapped
icily.

Sighing in
resignation Mistral began to recite the words Malachi was saying to himself in
the mirror, her initial amusement at what he was doing quickly replaced by the
depressing realisation that she might end up having to sit through the whole
thing again in the Council chambers.

Phantasm
looked at Leo once Mistral had finished, ‘We need to change a few key elements
in your speech to answer the points he’s raised.  But on the plus side, I
think his unsubtle hints about having the backing of the Rochforte name won’t
go in his favour.’

Leo narrowed
his eyes thoughtfully before he gave the briefest of nods.  Turning to
give Phantasm his full attention, he began to revise his speech.  ‘I want
to change the section on the influential name of De Winter ... it feels as
though I am pitting one name against another.’

‘I
agree.’  Phantasm nodded and drew a line through the sentence.  ‘It
sounds too much like a repeat of the Rochforte and Noble feud –’ 

‘Now, unless
you are interested in the towering delight that has been laid on the table, I
suggest we continue with the formalities of the gala.’  Fabian suddenly
announced, smiling disarmingly at Mistral.

Mistral
glanced at the huge trifle that had been placed unnoticed by them in the centre
of the table and pulled a face, ‘Ugh!  I think I’ll pass!’

‘Eats nearly a
whole side of roast beef, but can’t take a serving of desert!’  Phantom
muttered under his breath to his twin.

Phantasm
glanced over at Mistral with an amused expression, ‘I think she’s going to wish
she’d agreed to eat the whole trifle in a minute,’ he muttered back while Leo
read through his revised speech.

‘Good,’ said
Fabian, rising to his feet and reaching out to take her hands.  ‘Because,
Lady De Winter, you and I are going to dance.’

Mistral was
already on her feet before his words had fully sunk in.  She froze with a
horrified look on her face, her eyes fixed on the open space beyond the table
where couples were already whirling elegantly under the soft light of the
candelabras.  

‘No! 
Fabian!  I mean it!’  she hissed, resisting his gently pulling
hands. 

‘Oh, but I
insist,’ he murmured, placing an arm around her and propelling her forwards.

‘But … I’ve
never danced in my entire life!  I don’t know how to!’  She whispered
frantically.  ‘I’ll only embarrass you!’

Fabian paused
at the edge of the floor and turned to face her, his face lit with an amused
smile, ‘You studied Dante’s Offensive and Defensive Fencing Footwork did you
not?’ 

‘Yes of
course!’  She replied with a confused look.  ‘He’s a master of sword
work!’

‘Well, simply
assume the role of Defence to my Attack.’

She stared at
him in amazement, ‘You’re joking with me, aren’t you?’ 

‘No, I am
quite serious … look.’  Fabian turned her gently to watch the other
dancers. 

At first all
she could see was the daunting ease with which each couple moved, but as she
studied them more closely she recognised the familiar steps that formed some of
the many footwork drills she’d trained over the last two years.

‘Oh!  I
know that one!  It’s Dante’s Elementary Steps Stage One!’ 

‘Otherwise
known as a waltz.’  Fabian murmured, sweeping her onto the dance floor.

Her initial
panic was quickly replaced by admiration for her husband’s seemingly endless
gifts.  She relaxed into his arms, gazing into his velvet eyes while he
guided her skilfully around the dance floor.  Candlelight glowed softly
over the smooth planes of his beautiful face, catching the dark lights in his
eyes and turning them to night skies full of stars.  Other couples moved
around them, some staring at them with frank curiosity, but Mistral saw nothing
but the eyes of her Mage, eloquent with love.  Suddenly realising that she
rarely spoke the words she felt every second of her existence, Mistral pressed
her lips close and breathed them into his ear.  Fabian did not speak them
in response, there was no need.  He gazed at her with a profound intensity
that spoke louder than any words ever could, his thoughts filling hers while
they continued to turn gracefully in time to the music.  Her world shrank
to consist of nothing but the unspoken words he was whispering in her mind and
the dark eyes holding her captive.  It was only when the other couples
began to clap politely that Mistral realised the orchestra had finished playing
and the dance was over.