Authors: Kirsten Jones
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Contemporary Fiction
‘Another one of those mysterious vanishings that
will go unsolved due to lack of proof,’ said Phantasm quietly. ‘Mage
Grapple is well aware that Bellicose and his tribe take advantage of the winter
snows to pick off isolated tribes, but he can’t act without any evidence.
And as you rightly pointed out, there never is any.’
‘Never mind the doom and gloom! What about
his plans?’ Phantom asked eagerly.
‘Double-cross and then some.’ Mistral smiled
bitterly. ‘That’s his plan! He thinks that he has enough immunity
to my gift to conceal his thoughts, and yours too, so we need to try it out at
the first opportunity –’
‘Hang on.’ Phantom interrupted with a
perplexed look. ‘Why would he think he had any sort of defense against
your gift, never mind ours?’
‘Malachi knows that I couldn’t read his aura last
year. He must’ve seen me trying during my lessons with him and worked out
that he was protected by his vampire blood. Anyway, he’s assumed that it
offers him some protection from Sight too ... and he definitely thinks that I
won’t be able to read him without physically being able to see him because he’s
been totally free with his thoughts since I’ve left the Valley – which made
interesting listening I can tell you. Oh, there’s been another small
bonus.’ Mistral gave a small smile. ‘Malachi must’ve told Bellicose
that vampire blood offers protection against my gift, because he also thinks
that I can’t read him. But I can.’
The twins shared a look of triumph but kept quiet
while Mistral continued to relate everything she’d Seen.
‘Bellicose is planning to assist Malachi in
becoming the next Divinus by any means necessary … and I mean by
any
means necessary, but Malachi is holding him off. Even Malachi knows that
having his father suck the life out of anyone that doesn’t seem inclined to
vote in his favour won’t do much to increase his popularity. Once
Malachi is installed as the new Divinus with us in his employ and a nice seat
at the Council … and you’re really not going to believe this next bit … but
Bellicose is planning to replace Mage Grapple.’
‘With who?’ Phantom asked sharply.
‘With himself brother.’ Phantasm murmured,
narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. ‘But how?’
‘With our help of course.’ Mistral
sighed. ‘Bellicose plans to force us to do his bidding by threatening
those closest to us ... Fabian, Melsina – he even knows the names of our
brothers. Malachi has been feeding him information about us for months,
since before I had even gained the Sight actually. They’ve been planning
this for a long time.’
‘Hence the money making operation with the
potions.’ Phantasm said. ‘Mage De Winter has suspected as much for
a while now. I should imagine Master Nox is becoming insufferable at the
prospect of all his plans finally coming to fruition.’
Mistral nodded, ‘Hmm, Fabian’s been asking me to
read him a lot this week and, you’re right, he’s been even more smug than
usual.’
‘Told you that’s what she’s been doing all
week!’ Phantom muttered under his breath.
Phantasm shot him a warning look and turned back
to Mistral, ‘You mentioned that Master Nox is planning a double-cross?’
She rolled her eyes, ‘Oh is he ever! You
remember the anti-Council eulogy Malachi gave at the Divinus’ funeral?’
The twins nodded.
‘Well, he’s intending to gain the support of the
warriors and win the elections held in the Valley based on the notion that he’s
going to sever all ties to the Council … and he’s even going to lead them to
believe that one day the Ri will challenge the Council for rule of the
Isle! But here’s the double-cross; in reality he and Bellicose scheme to
rule between them.’
‘Bellicose La Monte as the Head of the Council and
Master Nox as Divinus of the Ri? Now there’s a chilling scenario!’
‘I know! It’s a future so dire it’s almost
laughable and I unwittingly gave Malachi a head start by forcing Leo to give me
the cull!’ Mistral shook her head angrily.
‘Hmm, regrettable, but I’m sure we can resurrect
our gleaming leader somehow.’ Phantasm said. ‘But never mind that
now; tell me what’s been happening in the Valley since we left.’
‘Not a lot. Thankfully the heavy snow’s
halted Scrimshaw and Scuttle’s messenger service, so Malachi’s request for dragon
blood hasn’t made it to the Council yet. No-one knows about the cull, so
for the moment, Leo’s still as popular as he ever was.’
‘Not very then.’
Mistral shrugged, ‘You know how it is with Leo,
no-one likes him but everyone respects him.’
‘Have you read him recently?’
‘Only when Fabian asks.’ Mistral pulled a
face. ‘He’s stuck at the Council and is pretty peeved with us for getting
snowed-in up here. I take it you two informed him?’
The twins nodded in unison. ‘First thing
your Mage asked us to do once he knew you were going to survive swan-diving off
a mountain ledge into a dragon’s open mouth.’ Phantom remarked
cheerfully.
‘Thanks for reminding me about that.’
Mistral wrapped her arms around her drawn up knees and turned to watch the fire
while the twins went on to gossip about what she’d told them. Fabian
hadn’t spoken about the hunt since the brief conversation they’d had in
Diannah’s house; but he had dreamed about it every night since. Mistral
had awoken each morning filled with a deep sense of anguish that wasn’t hers
and knew Fabian had felt more than just disbelief when he’d watched her leap.
‘Are you coming to the tavern tonight for a game
of cards and something to eat?’ Phantom asked, breaking into her
thoughts. ‘Only it’s getting a bit dull to tell you the truth. I
thought we could liven things up with our trick of messing with our brothers
thoughts; you read them and we change them. Never fails to amuse me!’
Mistral lifted her head to grin at him, ‘Are you
missing me brother?’
Phantom shrugged, ‘No … just bored.’
‘Of course we’re missing you Mistral.’
Phantasm sighed, rolling his eyes at his brother. ‘But you and Mage
De Winter deserve some time together. I think you’ve barely had a moment’s
peace since you were married.’
Mistral smiled and rested her chin back onto her
bent knees, ‘It has been quite nice not to have anything to worry about for
once. Oh I know it’s all still out there, pending … the battle between
Malachi and Leo to be the next Divinus, the restless vampire tribe, the
Rochfortes, my year of servitude to Leo and no doubt Mage Grapple … but for
now, thanks to the snow, there’s nothing to do.’
‘Nothing, huh?’
Mistral turned her head to give Phantom an arch
look, ‘You know brother, I think I’m washing my hair tonight. Sorry, but
I won’t be coming out. Maybe another time.’
‘Well it could definitely do with it.’
Phantom muttered, looking pointedly at her disheveled appearance.
Mistral scowled at him, ‘In fact, I think I’m washing
my hair every night until the snow eases enough for us to leave.’
Phantom was immediately repentant, ‘Oh please come
out! I’m so bored with drinking cider and listening to Xerxes bragging!’
‘I don’t know. Maybe –’
‘Come on Mistral!’ Phantom wheedled.
‘What can I say to make you?’
‘Tell me you miss me.’
‘No chance!’
‘Not coming then.’
Phantom’s shoulders drooped in defeat, ‘Oh alright
then. I miss you. There, I’ve said it. Satisfied now?’
She grinned at him, ‘No, but I will be when I’ve
robbed you all blind at cards! Tell Fabian I’ll be there in a bit, I am
actually just going to wash my hair –’
Snow continued to fall heavily for another
week. They fell into a lazy routine of rising late, eating a huge
breakfast together at Diannah’s house and laughing at her tales of the youthful
mishaps of her sons. Then Fabian and Mistral would leave her brothers to
engage in a fierce snowball fight that went on until noon when they would
retire to the tavern, glowing with cold and covered in snow, to pass the
afternoon gambling, drinking and telling endless stories. Mistral spent
her days with Fabian in the peaceful warmth of their log cabin, forcing herself
to devote some time each afternoon to reading the thoughts of whoever Fabian
wished her to. The twins would sometimes visit and a strange four-way
conversation would ensue between Fabian and Leo using the twins’ and Mistral’s
gifts to communicate. She repeated her attempts to try and read either
Christophe or Etienne Rochforte, but was no more successful than she had been
in the mountains. It was frustrating that her gift had not yet become
powerful enough to accomplish what she knew Fabian needed from her. After
everything she’d put him through on the dragon cull Mistral wanted nothing more
than to please him for a change. When she admitted this to Phantasm he
had made her blush by replying tartly that Mage De Winter had looked nothing
but pleased for the last two weeks.
Each evening Fabian and Mistral would reappear and
join the others in the tavern to play cards over a lengthy meal of roasted meat
and yet more cider.
‘You know – ’Phantom hiccupped and placed his
tankard down onto the table next to a row of empty ones. ‘We nearly fell
out during the first week, but I think I’m developing a new appreciation for
cider. It grows on you after a while.’
‘You have worked pretty hard at it.’ Mistral
said sarcastically, taking a sip of her own and grimacing. ‘Personally I
can’t stand the stuff. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever spent so much
time in a tavern sober before.’
‘And I don’t think I’ve ever seen you looking so
healthy Mistral.’ Cain said looking at her thoughtfully. ‘Maybe
enforced rest and not drinking suits you. Definitely makes you less
grouchy.’
‘And you’re no longer throwing up every five
minutes.’ Brutus muttered into his tankard.
Mistral gave him a warning glare and glanced
quickly at Fabian, but he was deep in conversation with Phantasm about a plan
to bolster Leo’s reputation once the news about the cull got out. In
truth, she had been sick again, but only when Diannah insisted on producing the
foul, over-sweetened herbal drink at breakfast time. Mistral was sure
she’d successfully hidden her need to be violently sick under the pretense
needing the bathroom for normal reasons. In any event, Fabian
hadn’t appeared to notice, leaving Mistral relieved, but also confused as to
why she couldn’t stomach the smell of honey any more.
‘You do realise it’s the first of February
tomorrow don’t you?’ Cain said and gazed broodingly at the snow-filled
window.
‘No! Really?’ Mistral exclaimed and
instantly looked troubled.
Cain nodded and sighed, ‘This place is a
time-trap. I can see why Brutus and Xerxes wanted to get out so
badly. It would drive me insane to be stuck here for months at a time.’
February! Mistral couldn’t believe so much
time had passed. Something was definitely wrong with her … she sighed and
pushed her tankard away; a trip to the infirmary beckoned when she returned the
Valley.
Three more days of snow followed then on the
fourth day Mistral awoke to bright sunshine and blue skies, ‘Wake up
Fabian!’ She climbed back onto the bed and whispered excitedly in his
ear. ‘It’s stopped snowing! We can go home!’
Fabian regarded her through half-open eyes, ‘I’m
not sure I like you appearing over-joyed that our honeymoon is over.’
‘It’s not yet,’ she grinned and slid back under
the covers.
Breakfast at Diannah’s was a riotous affair with
Xerxes insisting on them finishing the last of Floris’ liquor in a series of
increasingly random toasts, finally ending with one for Prospero.
‘The most, loyal, obedient and … fluffy … dog I’ve
ever had the pleasure of meeting!’ He declared, raising his glass in an
exuberant toast to Mistral’s dog, happily crunching his way through a dragon
bone on Diannah’s spotless kitchen floor.
‘To Prospero!’
Mistral rolled her eyes and took a sip of water,
catching Fabian’s amused expression she smiled. He looked so relaxed and,
there really was no other word for it, happy. She wondered idly if he’d
ever had a proper holiday in his life. Probably not she decided with a
wry smile. She was sure he would consider a mercenary contract somewhere
hot to be a holiday.
Diannah became tearful when it was time for them
to leave, alternating between hugging her sons tightly and berating them for
not coming back sooner, ‘I miss you both so much! Please visit me again …
and do try to settle down a bit Xerxes! You’re getting too old to be such
a rake! Don’t turn into your father –’
Xerxes muttered something about stable doors and
bolting horses and hugged his mother back, turning away quickly to let Brutus
receive a similar bone-crushing hug and pep talk.
‘Please try to control your brother Brutus, he
looks up to you! You always were the more sensible one –’
Brutus patted his mother awkwardly on the back,
‘I’ll do my best, goodbye mother.’
‘He forgot to add that Xerxes is actually a lost
cause.’ Cain muttered to Mistral as they ploughed through calf deep snow
towards the stables. ‘Can you imagine trying to control Xerxes?
It’d be like trying to restrain a charging bull!’