The Seer (8 page)

Talking of
tedious, look at the expression on Bryden’s face!

Phantasm’s
thought prompted Mistral to look over at Bryden Wolfsnare.  His regal
features were set in an expression of undisguised boredom while a flushed
Mycroft talked enthusiastically at the air just above Bryden’s head.  His
unfocused gaze swivelled left and right, finally managing to spot one of the apprentices
he broke off from boring Bryden to demand more wine only to be brought a glass
of water, courtesy of the twins’ subtle intervention.  Mistral smiled and
took a long drink of water herself while she focussed on his aura, preparing to
read him as per her instructions from Leo.  Mycroft’s aura erupted above
his head in a sunburst of yellow and silver.  Mistral barely had time to
register the significance of the colours before his thoughts poured into her
mind in a deluge of excitement.  Mycroft was having a fantastic
time.  He was drunk, about to enjoy an enormous meal in front of warm fire
and had a captive audience keen to listen to him … the Ri’s Divinus! 

Mistral raised
her eyebrows and quickly broke the connection.  It looked like Leo had
another contender for his coveted position.  Mycroft’s thoughts had
clearly revealed to her that he wasn’t prepared to give up his temporary
promotion without a struggle.  Seeking a distraction, she gazed along the
table, looking for Fabian but before she could find him one of the apprentices
appeared beside her with a plate of roasted venison.  Suddenly starving;
she grabbed for her knife and fork and prepared to attack the biggest slice on
her plate.  Steam rushed out from the hot meat, filling her nostrils with
its rich smell.  Suddenly her knife and fork fell to the table with a
clatter.

Phantasm
turned to glare at her. 
Don’t you dare try and eat with your
fingers! 

‘I wouldn’t
eat that if you paid me!  Did Bernadette cook that?  It smells
revolting!’  Mistral choked, fighting down the urge to be violently sick.

Phantom
snatched the plate away and Phantasm regarded her with a frown. 
I
think you should go to the Infirmary tomorrow and let Serenity check you over.

‘No chance,
I’m going home tomorrow.  And can you actually
talk
to me for a
change?’  Mistral muttered under her breath.  ‘I look even more of an
oddity sat here talking to myself!’

‘I apologise.’
 Phantasm said aloud.  ‘But seriously Mistral, you’ve been off colour
for days now.’

Mistral
shrugged and instantly cringed as she caught one of Bryden’s elves watching her
exposed cleavage rise and fall with the motion, ‘I’ll see Cain if it continues
if you want, but not Serenity,’ she agreed lightly, privately resolving to see
neither of them on a medical matter ever again if she could help it.

‘Good. 
Now let’s get back to work.  Malachi?’

Mistral nodded
vaguely, but her eyes were once again seeking those of Fabian.  She found
him, sat talking with Mage Grapple, his beautiful face set in a serious
expression.  She gazed at him longingly, listening indulgently to his
thoughts and smiling at the concentration he was giving to a subject that would
have sent her to sleep in seconds.

Mistral!

‘Hmm?’

Please
don’t look at Mage De Winter like that!  It’s most unprofessional!

Mistral
started and realised that she had pulled a lock of hair loose and was twirling
it through her fingers while she gazed at Fabian, ‘Sorry for looking at my
husband,’ she muttered and reluctantly turned her attention back to the matter
in hand.  Malachi Nox.

She looked
down the table, taking in the faces of the attendees at the banquet.  So
many different tribes, nationalities and breeds;
all gathered in honour
of the Divinus.  It reminded her of the Festival of the Arcane, only a lot
smaller and infinitely more civilised.  Everyone present was at pains to
be on their best behaviour.  The goblin chieftain from the cave tribes of
the west was struggling with his knife and fork, the sophisticated dryad sat
beside him politely ignoring his efforts whilst surreptitiously dabbing a
napkin to his nose to ward off the goblin’s odour.  Imperato and Dravite,
aloof and silent, were stood at the end of the table nearest to the fire, the
two foreign Mages sat silently on either side of them looking awkward and overawed. 
Mistral was suddenly struck by the fact that apart from her there were no women
present, not even Serenity. 

‘Why –’

Unless this
is about Master Nox I don’t want to know!  We are nearly half way through
the main course and all you’ve done is gaze around aimlessly.  Please
focus Mistral!

Mistral glared
at Phantasm, wishing he could read her thoughts for once so that she could
silently tell him where to stick his main course.  He ignored her foul
glare and raised an eyebrow, looking pointedly down the table to their right to
where Malachi was sitting. 

In case you
need reminding, that’s Master Nox over there.  The person he’s whispering
secretively to is his father, Bellicose La Monte, the head of the Isle’s only
vampire tribe.  Now please get on with reading them!

‘What fun.’
 Mistral rolled her eyes and began to focus on the air just above their
bent heads.  Slowing her breathing she concentrated on clearing every
thought from her mind, letting the vision his aura fill her vision.  Murky
and indistinct, Malachi’s aura drifted into view, the colours muted and somehow
weaker, like a landscape seen through fog.  ‘Damn it, he’s blocking me!’
 Mistral hissed.  Narrowing her eyes she redoubled her efforts,
willing her gift to work harder and reveal his aura ...
See
his
thoughts...

After several
long minutes of concentration Mistral was finally rewarded with a faint,
sibilant whisper in her ear; Malachi’s thoughts.  She tilted her head
slightly, listening more closely to the low hissing sounds, her unfocussed gaze
resting on the ornate plasterwork of the high ceiling.  After a while she
switched her attention to Bellicose La Monte, repeating the same slow process
of calling up his aura to gain access to his thoughts.  The apprentices
appeared to clear away the main course, returning almost immediately heaped
plates of almond and honey pastries; all completely unnoticed by Mistral who
remained completely absorbed in the thoughts of Bellicose La Monte. 
Conversations flowed around and over her.  The twins were beset with
requests for their gift to be used on increasingly more frivolous matters as
Floris’ heavy red wine dissolved any lingering inhibitions.  Mistral
eventually blinked to break the connection and sighed, reaching out to take one
of the sticky honey-coated pastries before the first year apprentice could
remove her plate.

‘Finally!’ 
Phantom muttered grumpily.  ‘I thought you’d actually mastered the ability
to fall asleep with your eyes open.’

‘No, but that
would be a good one to have,’ she said, chewing thoughtfully on the pastry.

‘What did you
See?’

‘Later –’
Mistral breathed as an icy thought entered her mind.   

Mage
Grapple …

Leo.  Of
course.  Mistral dropped the half-finished pastry back down onto the plate
and slowly wiped her fingers on a napkin.  She could hardly refuse Leo’s
instruction but she was reluctant to See into Mage Grapple’s mind.  It
wasn’t that he would be offended by the intrusion, in fact, he was probably
expecting it … but he just looked so
cold
.  She imagined his
thoughts would be as barren and depressing as the characterless house he
inhabited at the Council, plus, she also knew all about the tragedies that
lurked in his past and didn’t particularly relish the prospect of sharing in
them.  Mistral briefly considered lying to Leo about having read Mage
Grapple but quickly discarded the thought.  Unfortunately, her ability to
lie didn’t seem to have improved since mastering her gift.  Blowing out
her cheeks with a resigned sigh she focussed on the air above Mage Grapple’s
close-cropped hair and found herself tensing, like a swimmer about to leap into
water they know is icy cold.

His aura
glimmered into view in a haze of deepest royal blue... focus and purpose, as
expected from the Mage in charge of the Council and ultimately responsible for
every single being on the Isle.  Mistral pushed the tendrils of her mind
further, reaching beyond his aura until his thoughts rang inside her mind with
bell-like clarity.  She listened, cautiously at first and then with more
interest until she was resting her elbows onto the table with her chin cupped
in her hands, utterly fascinated by Mage Grapple’s thought process.  He
was totally systematic; listening to a question and giving it the undivided
attention of his considerable intellect before replying and moving cleanly onto
the next matter.  Every question was dealt with using the same rigidly
disciplined method.  If he had any personal prejudices about the questions
he was asked, they were not revealed; he did not permit anything other than
logic to influence his decision.  Not once did Mistral hear him consider
his own wants and needs.  As she had suspected, there were no
light-hearted or even vaguely humorous thoughts but they were not as bleak as
she had first feared they would be.  The content of the thoughts
themselves made little sense to Mistral since most questions were regarding
Council matters.  Occasionally she and the twins would enter his thoughts
when he decided their gifts would be of use in a proposed meeting, but he never
once glanced over at them.  The fact they were even in the room was
immaterial to his thought process, he had decided their skills were required
and that was the end of the matter.  She was impressed by his ability to
set a matter aside once he considered it dealt with, leaving his mind free to
focus on the next issue. 

Mistral …

Mistral!

MISTRAL!

Mistral’s eyes
snapped round irritably to meet Phantasm’s impatient look.

You’ve been
reading him for ages!  Is there anything you should be letting us know?

She quickly gave
the coded signal for yes and Phantasm looked away again, knowing she actually
meant the opposite.  Mistral immediately dropped her chin back into her
hands and gazed over at Mage Grapple again … he had been considering a Contract
that was definitely right up her street …

Vilius?

Phantom’s
tentative thought entered her mind, drawing her away from Mage Grapple once
more.  Lifting her head from her hands with a sigh she raised an eyebrow
questioningly at her brother.

He’s in the
Council party, next to Mage Castledine.  See him?  You can’t miss
Mage Castledine – he’s the one with the beard you could lose a herd of bestra
in …

Mistral smiled
when she saw the Mage Phantom was referring to.  He had a luxuriant beard
that covered most of his face and reached down to the collar of his
robes.  His mouth was so completely concealed that when he spoke his beard
appeared to move of its own accord, mesmerising Mistral until Phantom prompted
her with a sharp thought.

Vilius is
next to him Mistral, not hiding in his beard!

Mistral
grudgingly dragged her gaze away from Mage Castledine’s beard to study the
slightly built figure sat beside him.  He had cold, pale grey eyes, rather
like a fish and fair hair swept back from a narrow face.  Vilius
De’ath.  The husband of the twins’ mother, the Mage who had assumed Count
Putreo Darke’s position at the Council … but had he also taken on Putreo’s
lucrative black market trade in illegal potions?

She focussed
on him, almost instantly calling forth the shimmering vision of his aura in an
uninteresting fog of beige.  Pushing further Mistral reached out to his
thoughts.  They seeped dutifully into her mind.  Vilius was a
boringly easy subject to read.  Mistral listened to his private musings
for a few minutes with growing incredulity.  Laughing shortly she broke
the contact with his mind and reached out for her tumbler of water.  It
tasted insipid and luke-warm, not unlike the inside of Vilius De’ath’s mind.

Well??

‘Later
brother.’  Mistral felt suddenly exhausted.  The constant effort of
using her gift all evening had drained her.  She sought the comfort in her
Mage again, meeting his dark eyes across the candlelit room.  His thoughts
flowed into her mind, shrinking the distance between them until the promises he
was making whispered in her ear in a voice of brushed silk.  A smile
lifted her lips and her mood, filling her with the pleasant longing for the
later in his promises to be now.

I want you
and the Gemini to go to The Cloak and Dagger and gauge the mood of the
warriors. 

Mistral
blinked, taken aback by the abrupt invasion of Leo’s icy voice into her warm
thoughts. 

Now!

Riled by his
curtness, Mistral turned to glare at Leo but he wasn’t even looking in her
direction.  She was left glowering uselessly at the back of his blonde
head while he spoke with the foreign delegate sat beside him.  She felt
the twins’ quizzical looks and sighed, wondering how to signal to them that
they were being ordered down to The Cloak and Dagger to spy on their fellow
warriors.  Seeing her coded command to stay, the twins immediately rose to
their feet and stepped back from the table, waiting for Mistral to slide out
from her seat before they all melted back into the darker shadows away from the
candlelit table.  They moved quietly across the room, any sound their
footsteps made drowned out by the rumble of conversations, enabling them slip
unnoticed from the room.

‘Oh!’ 
Serenity’s surprised voice greeted them in the dark corridor.  ‘Are you
leaving already?’

‘I am afraid
so Mistress Lightwater,’ Phantasm said smoothly.  ‘It has been an
emotional day and Mistral is tired –’