The Seer (2 page)

‘Mistral? 
You’re not still angry about me not letting you join in the game last night are
you?’ 

Mistral
ignored him and continued to make her way across the village square.

‘Come
on!’  Xerxes ran to catch hold of her arm, turning her to face him. 
‘You’ve got the Sight Mistral!  I’m sorry, but playing cards with you
would just be pointless!’

Mistral glared
at him, ‘Pointless?  Yes, you’re right Xerxes!  Playing cards with
you is pointless because I now know that you and your brother have been using
Elven Song to cheat for the last two years, Cain has a second pack of cards
stuffed up the sleeves of his shirt and the twins have been using their gift to
manipulate you all into losing when the stakes are particularly good!’

Xerxes mouthed
at her wordlessly, finally recovering to splutter, ‘A second pack of
cards?  The cheating hob!’

Mistral
snorted and pulled her arm out of his grasp to continue across the Square.

‘Oh, alright,
you can play!  Just don’t overdo it on the whole mind reading bit!’
 Xerxes called after her, his voice tinged with desperation.

Mistral paused
and spun to face him, raising an eyebrow sharply, ‘Just what is it that you
need to know so very urgently Xerxes?’

He walked
quickly up to her, looking over his shoulder nervously before leaning to
whisper in her ear, ‘Marietta.  I was thinking of asking her to go out
with me –’

Mistral looked
flummoxed, ‘She already has a few times hasn’t she?’

‘No, I mean
go
out
with me.’  Xerxes muttered, looking embarrassed.

‘Don’t make me
read your mind Xerxes; because I really do not want to go into that sordid
little cave you call a head!’ 

‘Come on
Mistral!  You know what I mean!  I was thinking of trying to be, you
know, a bit more selective –’

Mistral
laughed, ‘You mean you want to have a go at being faithful and you want me to
find out if she’ll say yes before you ruin your godlike reputation of being a
complete and utter tart?’ 

Xerxes looked
wounded, ‘Tart?  I hardly think that’s fair!  I may have dated a few
of the girls in my time, but I am not a
tart
!’

‘Sorry
brother, but you really are.’  Mistral glanced distractedly towards the
path leading to the North Gate again.  She could hear Fabian’s thoughts
more clearly.  They were nearly at the Valley.  ‘Oh, I suppose it won’t
hurt to help you out, but this is strictly a one off.  I’m not going to
become your personal agony aunt for the rest of my life!  Now, remind
me.  Which one is Marietta?’

‘The blonde
one … curvy.’

‘They all look
like that.  Be more specific.’

‘She’s the one
that was shouting at me in The Cloak –’

‘Not helping.’

Xerxes frowned
heavily, ‘She’s got a birthmark –’

‘I See minds
not bodies!’  Mistral interrupted impatiently.

‘Er –’ Xerxes’
face creased in lines of concentration.  ‘Well.  She was the one who
started the whole sweetheart fiasco –’

‘Oh
yes!’  Mistral’s face cleared instantly.  ‘Give me a minute –’ she
stared off towards the village, her hand still held up in the air to silence
Xerxes while she called up the image of Marietta’s face.  ‘Ah.’
 Mistral’s eyes slipped out of focus and then sharply back in again. 
‘
Marietta
–’

‘What’s she
thinking?’  Xerxes glanced quickly over his shoulder again to make sure
they weren’t being overheard.

Mistral rolled
her eyes disdainfully while she repeated the thoughts in Marietta’s head,
‘Does
this style really suit my hair?  I wonder if I should get it cut like
Eudora’s … does this dress make me look fat?  I think I could carry a
lower neckline –’
Mistral blinked and looked at Xerxes in disgust. 
‘Do you really want to listen to this drivel on a regular basis brother? 
Only, if I were you I’d seriously rethink my decision to ask her out!’

‘I never
listen to them when they talk.’  Xerxes said dismissively.  ‘But tell
me what she’s thinking about me!’  He demanded more urgently.

Mistral let
out a sigh and gazed towards the village again, her eyes becoming misty, ‘
Xerxes
–
’

‘Yes?’ 
He hissed, gripping at her arm.

‘She hates it
when you call her sweetheart.’

‘Oh! 
Really?  Well maybe that’s understandable.’

‘And when you
blow in her ear.’

‘No!  But
that’s my signature move!’  He cried, looking crestfallen.

‘I think
that’s why she hates it … sorry brother, but I’ve seen more content in an empty
barrel and I really have to go now, look after Prosp for me will you?’
 Mistral left Xerxes standing in the snow holding onto her dog and ran
towards the Main Building, slipping on the icy path in her haste.  She
reached the Entrance Hall and flew up the stairs, barely pausing at the next
floor where her old room was to continue up to the third floor and run along
the corridor to the stairs leading to Leo Sphinx’s tower room.

Leo opened the
door on her second knock, taking in her breathless state with a raised eyebrow,
‘There is something you wish to tell me?’

‘They’re
nearly h-here –’ Mistral panted, resting a hand against the door jamb while she
recovered from her marathon sprint up three flights of stairs.

Leo eyed her
coldly for a moment then turned to speak to the room’s other occupant, ‘It is
time Gleacher.’

Mistral looked
up to the see the Ri’s Contracts Officer, Gleacher Shacklock, sitting quietly
at the table.  He shuffled together a sheaf of parchments and rose to his
feet, ‘We need to arrange a welcoming party; I will summon the Magnate.’ 
Tucking the parchments under his arm he strode past Mistral without even
glancing at her. 

Mistral
watched his departure curiously.  Why was the Contracts Officer in Leo’s
room?  Training had finished for the year and there were no Contracts
being issued until the funeral was over …

‘You need not
be present.’  Leo’s cold voice drew her attention back to meet his icy
blue stare.  ‘And,’ he continued, his eyes travelling critically over her
tattered clothes, ‘please be more appropriately attired for the funeral
tomorrow.  You look like a stablehand.’

Mistral stared
in disbelief at the door closing in her face, ‘And thank you too,
brother-in-law,’ she muttered and began to make the long trek down the stairs
and back down to the village square.

By the time
she reached the village square Mistral was breathless again, but this time from
anticipation.  Fabian’s thoughts were so clear to her now it was as though
he were stood next to her, speaking directly into her ear.  ‘Come on …
come on!’  She muttered, staring through the snow and fading light at the
path leading to the North Gate.

The sound of
hoof beats reached her ears at exactly the same time that Leo’s strident voice
rang out behind her, issuing orders to his Training Lieutenant.

‘Damn!’ 
Mistral quickly ran into the stable block to hide from him.  Hovering
anxiously inside the entrance, she peered out, desperate to catch a glimpse of
her Mage, her husband … Fabian.  The sound of hoof beats grew louder,
pounding in time to her frantic heartbeats.  Horses appeared through the
snow-filled night, dark greys and browns, their riders heavily cloaked against
the winter night, then, like a sunbeam through a raincloud, a bright gold
palomino galloped into view, her rider almost entirely obscured from view by
the heavy snow blowing across the Square.

Mistral hung
on to the edge of the doorway to stop herself from running out; he was finally
here …

Leo stepped
forward to greet an imposing figure, dimly visible through the thickening snow;
Mage Grapple, the formidable Head of the Mage Council.  But Mistral had
eyes only for the lean figure dismounting from the restlessly fidgeting
palomino. 

‘Fabian
–’ 
Mistral breathed his name, knowing there was no way he would be
able to hear her, but just to say his name and see him at the same time … her
heart raced as though she had just run the stairs again.  She watched him
take the reins of the Councillors’ horses and lead them towards the
stableblock, his head bowed against the driving snow; every step he took seemed
to take an age until finally, he was there, in front of her.  ‘Fabian!’

His head
snapped up to stare into the darkness of the stable.  Seeing her, he
smiled.  She was instantly lost in the velvet depths of his gaze, rendered
incapable of movement, thought or even breath.  As he murmured her name
his face glowed with an intensity of emotion that was divine, utterly
divine.  At once his arms were around her, the horses forgotten as his
lips met hers. 

He released
her with a deep sigh and pulled her more closely into his arms.  She
leaned into his body, inhaling deeply the familiar scent that made her head
spin.

‘But how I’ve
missed you!’  He exclaimed softly.

She smiled and
looked up at him, ‘It wasn’t so bad for me … I heard you –’

His eyes
widened briefly, ‘How far?’

‘Only to the
far side of The Velvet Forests.  Then you faded away.’

He gazed down
at her thoughtfully, ‘It’s still an impressive start to mastering your gift
Mistral.’

She sighed and
laid her head against his shoulder, ‘Not really.  It’s only you I can hear
that far; anyone else has to be a lot closer.’

The sound of
raised voices outside made them both look up.  Leo was ordering a cask of
wine to be sent to the Main Hall.

‘I must go.’
 Fabian murmured, gazing at her regretfully.  ‘Leo wishes me to join
him for a meeting with Eximius and the rest of the Councillors.’

‘How long will
you be?’  Mistral asked, trying to hide the desperation she suddenly
felt. 

He smiled
softly at her, ‘I assure you that I will not linger.  I would much rather
be in your company than theirs, however, there is much at stake right now.’

Mistral rolled
her eyes, ‘Details.’

‘Yes,
details.’  Fabian laughed softly and kissed her. 

‘I’ll be at
the twins’ house,’ she whispered breathlessly when he finally released her.

He smiled and
nodded, touching a hand briefly to her cheek, ‘Then I know where to find you.’

She stared
after his retreating figure, quickly vanishing from her sight into the
snow-filled night before heaving a deep sigh and walking dreamily back towards
the village, oblivious to Clovis’ angry curses at finding several untended
horses wandering aimlessly around his yard.

She reached
the twins’ house and let herself in to have her blissful haze cruelly
shattered.

‘About time
too!  I would say that I have a surprise for you but I’m sure you already
know!’ 

Mistral was
immediately seized and propelled up the stairs by Phantasm, his angelic face
radiating a force of intent that was both mesmerising and terrifying to behold.

‘Oh no! 
Please stop trying to dress me like some toy Phantasm!  I
really
don’t appreciate it.’

‘Mistral.’ 
Phantasm spun her round to fix her with a flinty look.  ‘You are going to
have to dress appropriately now that you are the Ri’s Seer.’

‘I am dressed
appropriately!’

Phantasm’s eyes
travelled over her ripped trousers and shirt in icy silence, ‘Those trousers
are so torn that they are hardly even decent anymore and – Mistral!  Are
you really wearing one of Mage De Winter’s shirts?’

Mistral
shrugged and dropped her gaze, ‘Ran out of clean ones.’  She wasn’t about
to admit that she liked to wear Fabian’s shirts because they carried his scent.

‘Not
anymore.’  Phantasm said shortly and flung open the doors to his wardrobe
with a flourish.  ‘For the funeral tomorrow you have a choice,’ he ran a
hand lightly along the line of dresses hanging in front of him.

‘Just a clean
black shirt and some new trousers will be fine.’  Mistral said quickly,
eyeing the colourful array of dresses in trepidation.  ‘It’s just another
funeral.’

Phantasm turned
on her, his green eyes blazing with anger, ‘No, it is not just another funeral
Mistral!  This is the Divinus’ funeral!’ 

‘Calm down
brother!’  Mistral said quickly, taken aback by his sudden anger.  ‘I
know it’s not going to be like one of the usual bonfires in the village square,
but I can’t really see the need to dress up just to hear Leo make his usual
boring speech before we have a few drinks in The Cloak!’

‘A few drinks
in The Cloak?’  Phantasm repeated incredulously.  ‘Mistral, this is a
state occasion!  The Divinus was two hundred and thirty five years
old!  He was influential in several major international treaties and was
held in high regard by all of the famous Mage families as well as the Arcane
tribes – and not just those who live on the Isle!  This funeral will be
attended by Mage delegates from the Isle and abroad, and probably all of the
Arcane chieftains as well!’

Mistral pouted
moodily, ‘So?  It’s going to be busy!  But I don’t really think that
they’re going to be looking at what I’m wearing.’

‘Yes they
are!’  Phantasm hissed through clenched teeth.  ‘You are the Seer
now!  Of course they’re all going to be looking at you … and us! 
Until a new Divinus is elected, we are the Ri!’

Mistral threw
him a disdainful look, ‘No we’re not!  You’ve got serious delusions of
grandeur Phantasm!  Mycroft has taken control of the Ri until a new
Divinus is elected.’

‘Master
Casterton couldn’t organise a drinking competition in The Cloak!’
 Phantasm snapped scornfully.  ‘He’s only been awarded the position
on a temporary basis to take the attention away from the real contenders. 
Until either Master Nox or Master Sphinx have their appointment confirmed by
the Council we are going to have to use our gifts to ensure that Master
Casterton doesn’t make too much of a mess!’