The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams) (55 page)

Mistral jumped guiltily and
sprang away from Fabian, but he merely laughed and caught her around the waist,
pulling her back into his arms.

‘I apologise unreservedly for
kissing my wife, Bryden, and bid you goodnight.’

Still laughing, Fabian wrapped an
arm around Mistral and drew her away, untethering Spirit as he passed. 
Mistral leaned against his side and breathed in his scent with a sigh of
pleasure.  He was here … and she was complete.  They began to walk
slowly along the avenue, neither feeling the need for words.  She dropped
a hand to caress Prospero’s head while he padded obediently by her side. 
Of Cirrus and the twins there was no sign.  She guessed they must have
taken the horses back to their tent.

Their tent.

Saul.

Mistral felt her blissful state
skew.  When Saul saw her with Fabian the atmosphere would be thicker than
Bernadette’s porridge and Fabian would instantly realise that something had
occurred between them.  Mistral sighed heavily at the thought of what she
had to do.

Fabian heard her sigh and turned
to look at her.  Seeing her apprehensive expression he stopped walking and
turned to face her.  Mistral gazed at him, so entranced by the way his
dark eyes seemed to defy the stars with their intensity that at first she
failed to comprehend his quietly spoken words.

‘He’s dead.’

‘No!’  Mistral’s shocked
denial escaped her lips before she realised her mistake.  Fabian was
talking about Putreo, not Saul.  ‘I meant good!’ she amended
quickly. 

Fabian regarded her narrowly,
‘That is not quite the reaction I would have expected.  Do you have
something you wish to tell me Mistral?’

Mistral held his searching look
for a moment longer before dropping her gaze to stare guiltily at the flattened
grass.

‘You’re right, as usual,’ she sighed
then gave him a pleading look.  ‘But can’t it wait?  Can’t I just
enjoy the fact that you’re here, alive, whole and next to me, before we have to
dissect the usual mess that happens whenever you’re stupid enough to leave me
alone for any length of time?’

‘No.’ 

Mistral sighed again and closed
her eyes to hide her embarrassment, ‘Fine.  Well, he … Saul, that is … may
have suggested that he … er, well, you know –’

‘No.  I don’t know. 
Please elaborate.’ 

Mistral tentatively opened her
eyes and glanced at his face, noting with dismay the rigid tension there she
sighed again.  She would have given her swords to have been able to greet
him with the news that she had gained Sight, or had at least managed to
strangle Columbine … instead all she could tell him was that during his absence
another man had asked her to leave her husband for him.

‘I swear I gave him no
provocation,’ she said, gazing earnestly into his flat black stare.

‘To do what exactly?’ he demanded
coldly. 

‘Er, to ask me to leave you for him,’
she muttered and cringed, waiting for him to explode in fury.

‘How ridiculous.’

Mistral stared at him, ‘You’re
not angry?’

‘Furious.  But only at his
stupidity.  Why does he persist in wasting his time pestering you with
unrequited love and annoying me to the point of wanting to kill him?  Is
he so lovesick that he really wants to die?’

Suddenly fed up with the subject,
Mistral shrugged, ‘Don’t ask me, I was too busy winning a horse race to worry
about dull things like that.’

Fabian drew in a deep breath and
cast his eyes up to the star-filled sky.  A long moment passed before he
laughed softly and looked at her once more.

‘You know, of course,’ he
murmured, his fathomless gaze holding hers with an power that never failed to
steal her breath away, ‘that my heart nearly burst with pride when Bryden
informed that a certain Mistral De Winter had won the horse race.’

‘Oh?’  she whispered,
fighting against the familiar falling sensation.  ‘At which bit?  The
fact that I used my married name or the fact that I won?’

‘Both.’

Mistral stared into the velvet of
his eyes, mesmerised by the emotions swirling in their black depths.  They
gazed at each other in silence for a long moment, holding a conversation no
words could ever express until Fabian smiled and pulled her against his side
again to continue their unhurried walk along the dark avenue of tents.  It
was quieter now; the wild revelry had given way to drunken sleep.  The
only audible sounds were of their muffled footsteps and the occasional snatch
of muted conversations drifting out from the tents they passed.

‘I was leaving for the Valley
tonight.’  Mistral began quietly.

‘I guessed.’

‘We can still go, if you wish to,
that is … I don’t really care about the festival.’

Fabian smiled sardonically,
‘Considering that I have just persuaded Bryden to permit my continued presence
– and a Mage at The Festival of the Arcane is an unprecedented event – I really
feel it would be a touch rude to abscond in the middle of the night. 
Besides, you might win the tournament.’

‘Huh!  If I did, it would be
no thanks to you!’  Mistral suddenly exclaimed, halting and turning to fix
him with an accusatory look.  ‘The twins tried to stop me from winning the
race on your instructions!’

‘I would never instruct them to
make you lose.’  Fabian replied evenly.  ‘Merely to be safe.’

Mistral pulled a face, ‘That
reminds me.  Columbine is here.’

‘Is that why you have finger
bruises around your throat?’

Mistral’s hand automatically
reached up to cover the bruises encircling the pale skin of her neck, ‘Are they
that obvious?’

‘Only to me.’  Fabian
murmured, tracing the circle of bruises lightly with his finger.

Mistral felt a shiver run down
her spine.  His finger caressed her skin slowly, back and forth.  She
gazed at him longingly until he took pity on her and smiled, touching her lips
with the ghost of a kiss.  She closed her eyes and sighed, lost in the joy
of being held in his arms again.

‘Mistral?  I need you to
tell me something.’ 

The abruptness of his tone dragged
her back to reality.  Her eyes flew open to find him looking intently at
her, his expression suddenly serious, bordering on angry.

‘What?’  she was suddenly
fully alert, her fight or flight instincts kicking in. 

‘I want to know exactly how
Columbine managed to attack you when I left strict instructions for the twins
to be with you at all times.’ 

Mistral sighed, her heart slowing
while her mind pondered how to answer Fabian’s question satisfactorily without
landing the twins in too much trouble.  She quickly decided to try and
divert the inquisition that was looming.

‘Yes, and thank you so much for
that!’  she snapped acidly.  ‘Because it wasn’t at all
annoying!  If you must know, I was swimming when she attacked me.’

Fabian stared at her wordlessly
and Mistral instantly felt herself blush.

‘Were you alone?’

‘Um, well, Prosp was with me.’

‘Don’t be obtuse!  Were the
twins with you?’

Mistral held his hard black stare
for a moment then dropped her gaze, cursing her inability to lie.

‘No.’

Fabian drew in a sharp breath and
Mistral quickly jumped in, gabbling her words in an attempt to deflect his
anger. 

‘Fabian!  Please don’t be
angry with the twins!  I woke early and they were still asleep.  I
wanted a swim alone so I didn’t wake them.  I was fed up with the whole
wretched babysitting routine.  It’s my fault, not theirs –’

‘Mistral.’  Fabian cut
across her in a hard voice.  ‘Please stop defending the twins.  I
know how wilful you can be.’

She pulled up short,
‘Wilful?’ 

He smiled, disarming her anger in
a single stroke, ‘It’s one of your many qualities.’

‘I have qualities?’

He nodded slowly, his dark eyes
glowing in the moonlight, ‘Too many to list.’

‘Is this one of them?’ 
smiling slowly she reached up to wind her fingers through his dark hair, losing
herself in the soft caress of his lips against hers.  

‘Do I even need to say how much I
have missed you?’  she breathed when he finally pushed her away.

He gazed down at her, his raised
eyebrows inviting her to continue.  Entering into his suddenly playful
spirit Mistral threw him a smouldering look.

‘Because I would rather carry on
showing you.’

Fabian held her burning gaze for
a moment longer and then smiled wistfully, stroking a finger gently down her
cheek. 

‘I fear that would push the
boundaries of my restraint beyond its limits and may also provoke Imperato into
leaping from the shadows to protect your virtue.’

Mistral sighed while Fabian
wrapped his arm around to continue their walk in silence, allowing time and the
cool night air to fade the unresolved desire between them. 

‘I didn’t realise you knew the
centaur tribe from The Velvet Forests.’  Mistral finally ventured,
glancing at him curiously.

‘I don’t.  But they seem to
know you.’

‘I don’t know how.’  Mistral
frowned.  ‘I met them for the first time yesterday.  It was a bit
weird to say the least.  Imperato immediately called me a Seer and started
talking about my gift.  He even knew my name.’

Fabian looked at her
thoughtfully, ‘The centaur tribe from The Velvet Forests are descended from a
blood-line that has produced at least two Seers –’

‘Three, actually.’  Mistral
interrupted, pleased to be able to add something positive to their conversation
for a change.

Fabian smiled, ‘I stand
corrected.  Three Seers.  Imperato obviously feels an affinity with
you because of your gift.  In fact, he has asked for my permission to
spend some time with you during the festival.’

Mistral was too intrigued to
bridle at the concept of Fabian’s permission being asked, ‘Really?  To do
what?’ 

‘To offer you guidance on
mastering Sight.’

‘Oh.  That.’  Mistral
muttered, realising with a flash of guilt that she had not even read an aura
since arriving in the Vale, never mind spent time working on harnessing the
power of her gift.  She immediately tensed, waiting for Fabian’s
inevitable question.

‘How are you progressing with
your gift Mistral?’ 

Mistral hid a sigh, wishing
fervently that just for once, she could actually provide Fabian with some good
news.

‘Erm, slowly’.

They walked in silence for a few
moments.  Mistral drew in a deep breath and turned to look at him,
steeling herself for the disappointment she would see in his eyes.

‘Sorry.’

He frowned, his eyes suddenly
tightening with anger, ‘Mistral.  Tell me you are not trying to master
Sight just to please me!’

Mistral hesitated, her impulsive
denial dying on her lips.  Was she?  Well … yes.  Some part of
her desperately wanted Fabian to see only the best in her and constantly sought
his approval.  To see him smile because she had pleased him was to
experience a thousand stars bursting in her heart.  Why else would she
want Sight if not to please Fabian?  In truth, there was no other
reason.  Saul was right.  Anyone could tell that she didn’t want her
gift.  She only wanted Fabian.  And if her gift meant Fabian, then
she wanted her gift.  Badly.

Imperato’s words leapt abruptly
into her mind, full of conviction, absolute and unbending.

‘
She will See … It is written
and cannot be changed.’
 

Mistral heaved a sigh and
silently cursed her stupid destiny for happily announcing itself in blazing
stare-shaped letters across the sky whilst continuing to elude her.

‘Mistral?’  

Fabian’s voice cut across her
thoughts.  She looked up, knowing a lecture was coming.    

‘You will never master your gift
if it is solely to humour me.  You have no need to seek my approval. 
You have that already; and so much more besides.  You must want to embrace
your gift for you, not for anyone or anything else –’

‘What?  Not even for the
good of the Isle and the future of the Ri?’  Mistral asked dully.

Fabian inhaled sharply, ‘I do not
share the ambitions of Eximius or Leo, but surely you can see the important
role a Seer plays in the continued existence of the Isle?’

‘That’s just it!’  Mistral
burst.  ‘I resent the pressure!  The assumed belief that I
want
to dedicate my life to looking into other people’s minds and reading their
dirty secrets!  Well I don’t!  And I’ll tell you another thing Fabian
–’   

Mistral paused to take a breath
while Fabian waited calmly for her to continue.

‘I am sick to death of the whole
Isle and his dog knowing that we can’t be together until I master my wretched
gift!  I don’t want Sight or money or fame or any of that stuff!’ 
her voice fell to a whisper.  ‘I just want you.’

‘Oh, my wild angel, I know how
you feel.  Don’t you think I feel it too?’  Fabian cupped her face
gently, gazing at her sadly.  ‘But we can’t allow our feelings to blind
you.  Ah, Mistral.  Would it help if I left?  Just for a while,
to allow you to concentrate –’

‘No!’  she almost shouted.
 ‘It’s worse when you’re not here … I get … I do … oh, I don’t know,
reckless, stupid … whatever you want to call it … but I end up doing anything
to try and mask the pain of missing you!’

Fabian instantly looked worried,
‘What have you done?’

‘Oh nothing!’ she replied quickly
and then gave him a guilty look.  ‘Well, er, I might have got into a
fight, but it wasn’t too bad.’   

His lips curved into the
semblance of a smile but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

‘Fabian?’  Mistral continued
in a beseeching whisper.  ‘Does it really matter why I want to master my
gift so long as I just do?  Everyone else seems to have their reasons for
wanting me to achieve Sight.  Is it so wrong for me to have my own?’