Authors: Kirsten Jones
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Contemporary Fiction
‘The
last?’ Christophe interrupted in a dangerously soft voice.
Mistral’s grip
on Fabian’s hand tightened reflexively as she listened to the triumphant
laughter in Christophe’s mind … he knew … somehow he knew …
‘Leopold
Sphinx, the abandoned Mage baby raised by the Ri. Oh, such a tragic
tale! Yet what Mage would willingly surrender their child to such a
fate? He was no shameful half-breed, but a full-blooded Mage! Why
would anyone seek to conceal the true nature of his parentage in the seclusion of
the Valley?’ Christophe let the question hang in the air while he slowly
turned to survey the chamber. ‘Or was he the product of a liaison so
illicit that the truth of his parentage could never be revealed?’
A confused
silence fell, Mistral stared in horror at Christophe while the half-drunk
Councillors shared shrugs and blank looks. Turning her head to look at
Fabian, Mistral felt a wave of shock break over her. Why had she never
seen it before?
Leo and
Fabian. They were two sides of the same coin. The blonde hair and
blue eyes of Leo were mere distractions from the canvas of his face, the exact
replica of her Mage. The high cheekbones and sculptured features
accentuated by the fact that tonight they were both clean shaven and dressed identically.
Seeing them stood side by side in the bright chamber, the likeness was
undeniable. Both were tall and possessed of a lean, sinewy
strength. A fierce pride resonated from every fibre of their being ...
the dark and the light, yet both borne of the same essence.
The silence
lengthened. A few puzzled murmurs broke out amongst the Councillors too
drunk to make the connection Christophe alluded to. Mistral glanced
distractedly at Mage Grapple, expecting him to call the chamber to order only
to see him staring frozenly at the two brothers. His thoughts drenched
her mind in a rush of disbelief and shock, swiftly changing to perform a series
of rapid calculations before coming to the inevitable conclusion. The
truth. Leo was the son he believed dead.
Neither Fabian
nor Leo had reacted to Christophe’s veiled suggestion. Both were utterly
motionless, staring at him with an icy intensity. Their immobile states
belied the speed with which their minds were working. Both were poised
ready to reach for the daggers concealed in their boots and silence Christophe
before he could reveal the secret that would jeopardise everything. In
the growing rumble of noise from the confused Councillors, Mistral stared at
Christophe and forced herself to concentrate on hearing only his thoughts, to
See how he could possibly know the truth that had been buried for decades.
Ah, of course
… Mistral’s hazy eyes narrowed slightly.
Golden
. She had
been jealous of the closeness between Leo and Fabian and had confessed as much
to Etienne when he questioned her on everything she had seen or heard during
her time in the Valley. It had been he that had suspected the true nature
of Leo’s parentage and shared his thoughts with his cousin, Christophe.
And now he, Christophe, was presented with irrefutable proof of their shared
blood in the revealing brilliance of the Council chamber.
But …
Mistral
smiled, her eyes sliding sharply back into focus to meet the glacial stare of
Christophe Rochforte across the white room. He could not expose the truth
to the Council. Unlike the Ri, they would not be mistrustful of Leo’s
bloodline, but more disposed to elect the son of Mage Grapple as the next
Divinus. The dangerous secret that Fabian and Leo had kept for so many
years was suddenly their salvation.
HeHhH
Her smile
widened to become a grin, openly taunting Christophe, letting him know that she
had Seen the flaw in his plan. She slipped her hand from Fabian’s and
stepped out onto the marble floor, walking slowly to the centre to stand
directly beneath the burning orb of light. There she paused.
Indifferent to the tense silence that fell across the chamber, she bowed her
head and rested both hands over the swell of her unborn child, letting the
tendrils of Sight unravel and fly out, attaching themselves to every mind in
the room until she felt the tentacles touch the cool marble walls. She
looked up, her smile one of sublime power. The attention and thought of
every living soul in the chamber was hers.
A ringing
silence fell while every eye fixed upon Mistral, motionless in the centre of
the chamber, resplendent beneath dazzling rays of light that danced across her
pale skin, illuminating every faint silvery scar and turning her dark hair to a
shimmering aura of black. Her son stirred restlessly, drawing her focus
away from the profusion of thoughts that inundated her mind to listen only to
him. She smiled in wonder. He knew so much already! His power
would be beyond anything the Isle had ever seen. He was ... unique.
Malachi had thought to abduct him? She almost laughed at the absurdity of
the notion. In a series of blinding revelations Mistral Saw her son, tall
and dark like his father, and so handsome. He would be no vulnerable
newborn, but the size of a six year old Mage child at the end of just one year
... fully mature by three. She tilted her head and listened to him for a
moment longer then nodded, understanding what his gift would enable her to do
whilst he existed within her.
Drawing in a
deep sigh she lifted her head and held her hands out in an invitation, ‘Join me
brothers.’
Wordlessly the
twins slipped from their seats and ghosted to stand on either side, taking her
hands in theirs.
‘See with me.’
The entire
chamber seemed to hold its breath while Mistral’s blank gaze stared into
nothingness.
‘Ah –’
Phantom’s eyes slid out of focus and a blissful sigh left his lips. ‘I
See
.’
‘We See …
… you all …’
They spoke as
one in a sibilant whisper, the Gemini and the Seer.
The
Trinity.
‘Cheap
theatrics and parlour tricks!’ Malachi’s angry shout broke the spellbound
silence. ‘Will you permit the Ri to be ruled by the whim of a
temperamental female and her enslaved Gemini?’
‘It is time
to set sail Malachi.’
At the triple
murmur Malachi abruptly stopped speaking and made a gagging sound, pressing a
hand urgently to his mouth he sank to his seat with a groan.
‘Oh, très
malin … yes, that is very clever.’ Christophe rose to his feet, clapping
his hands together quietly. ‘However I think this just proves our case
does it not? Your would-be Divinus cannot control you. I wonder,
who is it that actually holds the strings of power in the Valley of the
Ri? Is it Leo Sphinx, or is it you three? Can we ever trust such a
combination of gifts?’ He narrowed his eyes angrily. ‘I think
not. I think you should be divided. The Seer sent to the Council to
work for the good of the Isle, and the Gemini left to perform their circus
tricks for the amusement of your Valley of half-breeds.’
‘That is not a
decision for you to make!’
Leo had left
his seat to stride out across the floor and stand before Mistral and the
twins. Fabian instantly moved to mirror his position and protect their
exposed backs.
‘Really?’
Christophe raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at Mage Grapple, who had
neither moved nor spoken since making the startling discovery of his son’s
existence. ‘I rather think that there is a sudden void of power in this
room, and I intend to fill it with the rightful name of Rochforte! Too
long has there been an unworthy leader at the head of the Isle! The
dethronement of Mage Grapple is overdue! I will unite the Valley and the
Council and rule them both! It is time for change!’
His ringing
shout reverberated around the stunned room but Mage Grapple remained frozen, the
deep shock he was in rendering him incapable of responding to Christophe
Rochforte’s declaration of intent to seize control of the Isle. Neither
of his warlocks stirred. Their sole purpose was to obey his will, and he
was currently powerless to command his own thoughts let alone instruct the
creatures that served him. Deep within their trancelike state, the twins
and Mistral knew the protective spell he had cast over them was no longer
effective, but it didn’t matter. They were the Trinity. All Seeing,
and all controlling. Nothing could harm them.
The door to
the chamber suddenly burst open, eliciting cries of surprise from the startled
Councillors. The rest of the Rochfortes rushed past the motionless
warlocks and spread out along the top tier of the chamber.
‘What of our
plans!’
Released from
the power of the twins’ gift, Malachi had risen to his feet and was staring in
white-faced fury at Christophe.
‘They have
changed, my bloodthirsty friend.’ Christophe replied coldly. ‘And you
have suddenly become surplus to my requirements.’
The air around
Christophe suddenly shifted and pulsed. A wave of power exploded out from
him, lifting Malachi from his feet and slamming him against the back wall of
the chamber. His head smashed into the marble with a sickening crack that
made Mistral wince. In the shocked silence that followed Malachi remained
pinned against the wall, held there by an unseen force until Christophe
casually flicked his hand downwards and Malachi slid to the floor, leaving a
slick of crimson blood on the gleaming white marble.
Malachi
crumpled soundlessly, his malevolent black stare fixed on Christophe while his
lips moved faintly, framing words he had no breath to speak.
Christophe
laughed softly, ‘What is it Malachi? I can see you are dying to tell me
something.’
‘He is
swearing vengeance on you for your duplicity … his death will bring the wrath
of the Isle’s vampire tribe upon you … the rule of Rochforte will be plagued by
unrest … the Ri will never accept your command … they will rise up against you
with the power of the Gemini and the Seer and the gifted child within … but …
ah … he is gone ...
’
Christophe
turned slowly to regard the twins and Mistral while they spoke as one.
Beneath the brutal light of the enchanted sun the twins’ white-blonde hair and
alabaster skin radiated an ethereal glow, making them look more like guardian
angels than ever flanking the white-clad figure of Mistral, full of the life
that would challenge him; the gifted son and heir to the powerful De Winter
name.
‘It is a
pity,’ he sighed. ‘I could have achieved so much with you three at my
side. But I see now that you are ungovernable. I regret that your
lives must also end to allow a new era to begin, free of the taint of your
kind.’
A sudden
breeze moved through the chamber, ruffling the sheer material of Mistral’s
dress and dispelling the odour of ozone left by Christophe’s spell. It
swirled around the back wall of the chamber then abruptly vanished, leaving the
Councillors staring at each other in bewilderment; there was no signature scent
of ozone – it had not been a spell.
‘More
tricks!’ Christophe snarled and raised a hand high in the air. ‘But
you are defenceless against the might of the Rochfortes! We cast as one!’
The air above
the Rochfortes immediately thickened and began to shimmer with the power of the
spell they conjured, their shared blood giving them strength beyond that of any
Mage in the chamber. The hot reek of ozone charged the air once again and
the whole chamber began to shudder under the growing force of the spell.
Standing motionless beneath the shaking cupola, Fabian and Leo’s murmured words
were hidden in the violent rattling of glass panes.
‘Brother –’
‘– it is time
to embrace our destiny.’
Flames of blinding
white erupted around them, rising up in rings to reach the summit of the glass
cupola above. Safe within their enchanted vortex of fire Mistral and the
twins were silent and unmoving, oblivious to the crackling of flames
surrounding them and the ozone-filled air that throbbed with power, their
sightless eyes saw nothing, and everything. Keeping their backs to
Mistral and the twins, Fabian and Leo began to pace slowly around the
perimeter, controlling the shield of fire they had created, watching, waiting;
ready for the Rochfortes’ spell to be released.
At
Christophe’s ringing shout the Rochfortes’ spell burst forth. It surged
across the room in a rippling wave of blue light, smashing into the rings of
white fire with a thunderous boom that shook the entire chamber. The
fiery rings bowed beneath the force of the impact then blazed anew, becoming a
towering inferno. Flames exploded from the sheer sides, repelling the
Rochfortes’ spell back across the chamber, lifting Councillors from their seats
and flinging them against the marble tiers, sweeping on over their fallen
bodies in an irrepressible wave to level the very Mages that had cast it.
With a resounding crack the spell slammed into the back wall of the
chamber and rebounded, billowing out across the room to collide against the
impenetrable wall of fire in another deafening roar. Instantly more
flames ignited around the base of the vortex, bursting upwards to wrap the
Rochfortes’ spell in its fiery grip and thrust it towards the ceiling.
The sudden flare of white flames abruptly died back, releasing the Rochfortes’
spell from its grip to shatter the glass cupola and rush out into the night in
an explosion of blue light.
Fabian and Leo
immediately jerked their arms up and in; at once the rings of fire responded to
tighten at the top and create a flaming dome. Shards of broken glass
rained down, briefly forming a glittering crown on the dome before cascading
down the sides to shatter on the marble floor and ricochet across the chamber in
razor sharp fragments. The tinkling of breaking glass gradually died
away, leaving just the crackle of enchanted flames. Still stepping slowly
around their protective circle of fire, Fabian and Leo looked out at the
devastation the Rochfortes’ spell had wreaked. Not a single Mage remained
standing. Even the two warlocks lay insensible by the door. Mage
Grapple was sprawled unconscious on his back, his scarred face almost serene.