The Assassin's Tale (Isle of Dreams) (45 page)

‘No I damn
well can’t!’  Phantom interrupted quickly.  ‘Saul got that one!’

‘No, I swapped
it for you,’ said Phantasm smoothly ignoring his twin’s spluttered protests.
 ‘You can thank me later.  I know how much you hate the smell of
troll skin –’

‘The toilets
in The Cloak are worse!’

‘Look, my
decision’s made, so you might as well save your breath.’  Mistral stood up
and limped towards the door.  ‘I’m going to see Leo now.  I’ll come
back and say goodbye before I leave.’ 

The door
closed with a soft snap behind her. 

Phantasm shook
his head and looked at his brother, ‘That’s going to be a long painful climb up
the stairs to the tower room for no reason at all.’

‘The toilets
in The Cloak?  Seriously?  What were you thinking?’

Mistral heard
the twins arguing as she hobbled along the corridor towards the staircase that
would lead her up to Leo Sphinx’s tower room and her freedom.  In her mind
Mistral felt that her strange depression and being in the Valley were
inextricably linked.  She was convinced that once she left she would regain
her ability to see auras and, at the very least, wake up in the morning not
wondering how she was going to drag herself through another pointless day.

Each step up
the spiralling stone staircase to Leo’s room was agony.  Mistral paused
several times to allow the vicious stabbing pains in her leg to subside before
forcing herself on again.  At the top she didn’t allow herself to rest but
limped determinedly up to the door and banged three times in rapid succession.

After a brief
silence Mistral heard footsteps and the rasp of a bolt being drawn.  Leo
opened the door and stood squarely in the doorway, blocking her entrance to the
room.

‘What do you
want Mistral?’  he asked coldly, not inviting her into the room.

Unperturbed,
Mistral launched into her planned speech.

‘To confess to
organising the wolverine hunt and take the full blame.  I understand that
you’ll want me to leave the Valley immediately.’

Leo abruptly
stepped out onto the top of the staircase and closed the door behind him. 
His hard blue gaze bored into hers for a second before he spoke. 

‘Don’t waste
my time Mistral,’ he hissed in a voice like ice.  ‘We both know that Saul
organised the whole thing.  Everyone in The Cloak and Dagger heard his
stupid plan.  Now, what I want you to do is stop behaving so damned
erratically and just get on with your training or you will be retaking your
first year before your second!’ 

‘But I want to
go,’ she muttered petulantly, feeling suddenly childish.

‘I don’t care
what you want,’ he continued in a more threatening tone.  ‘Get off my
stairs and get better!  You’re no good to me in this state!’

Turning on his
heel he opened his door and stepped inside, slamming it with a resounding bang
in Mistral’s misery stricken face.

She had been
so sure that Leo would seize the opportunity to throw her out of the Valley
that for a moment she couldn’t believe he hadn’t.  The relief she had been
promising herself was replaced by overwhelming disappointment.  She was
still stuck in the Valley.  Endless, pointless days of training stretched
before her like a prison sentence.  

Mistral turned
and began to make her way awkwardly down the stairs.  Phantasm had been
right; Leo wasn’t going to let her go.  Mistral realised that even if she
ran away he would track her down and bring her back.  She was starting to
appreciate that Phantasm might be right about the bigger picture too; that Leo
had ambitions beyond their comprehension that included using their gifts. 

Mirror, Mirror On The Wall

 

By October the
first year apprentices had become eligible for more varied types of Contracts
and their names appeared alongside the two second years’ on the large slate
board outside Gleacher Shacklock’s small office.  Beside each of their
names was a large A signifying that they were available, or a C to show that
they were currently under Contract.  Contracts were carefully metered out
to the apprentices Gleacher felt needed the experience.  Most work was
fairly low grade, with the more hazardous work being given to the second
years. 

Mistral filled
any spare time she had by hanging around outside Gleacher’s office on the
off-chance of taking a Contract, regardless of what it entailed.  The
twins became used to her coming back covered in knucker slime that they no
longer commented on the smell.  Sometimes she was issued Contracts that
involved more dangerous work, which Mistral knew she should have relished, but
in her strangely deadened state she now undertook each assignment with a
listless detachment.  Her torpid mind and dulled reflexes resulted in her
sustaining even more injuries and trips to the Infirmary when the twins refused
to treat her.

Mistral made
her way to Gleacher’s office after the Saturday morning training session had
finished.  The twins had headed off to the showers and the other
apprentices to The Cloak and Dagger where Xerxes was organising a game of cards
that looked set to run long into the night.  When Mistral reached
Gleacher’s office she was disappointed to find the door locked.  He was
obviously out of the Valley on other business which meant that she had no
Contract to fill the gaping void of the weekend.  She hovered aimlessly
outside around Gleacher’s office door.  Half-formed thoughts entered her
mind of wandering down to The Cloak and Dagger to see if any of the apprentices
fancied joining her on an overnight hunting trip.  She was about to turn
and walk towards the Entrance Hall when Leo Sphinx appeared at the end of the
corridor. 

‘Mistral, I
have a Contract for you,’ he called, striding towards her holding a rolled up
piece of parchment in his hand.

Mistral turned
to face him, mutely holding her hand out for the parchment.  She didn’t
bother to ask him about it.  She would take any work going. 

Leo studied
her face for a moment while her eyes flicked over the parchment, ‘You will need
to prepare for this one.’

Noting the
tone in his voice, Mistral unrolled the Contract and began to read it. 
Her eyes lingered on the requirements section.  She sighed and rolled it
back up.

‘It’s not for
me,’ she muttered dully.

Leo folded his
arms across his chest and arched his eyebrows, ‘Mistral, are you refusing a
Contract?’ he enquired silkily.

Mistral’s eyes
dropped from his gaze, ’I haven’t got the skills for this assignment.’

Leo snorted
impatiently, ‘You need to expand your portfolio of Contracts beyond tracking
and slaying!  Female warriors are expected to undertake Contracts like
this.  I suggest that you take it.’ 

‘Ask Golden,’
Mistral replied in a dead voice.

‘Golden is
otherwise occupied,’ Leo replied smoothly. 

Mistral looked
at the board over his shoulder where a large A could clearly be seen next to
Golden’s name. 
Available. 

‘Ask Columbine
then.’ 

Leo fixed her
with a hard look, ‘Mistral.  This is a very simple Council Contract. 
You are well aware that it is standard practise for all newly released
prisoners to be assessed.  This man murdered his wife on the grounds that
she was having an affair and now that he’s been released the Council wish to
have him assessed before they allow him to return to his village. 
Naturally, the other residents of the village want to be sure he acted in a fit
of jealous rage and is not about to do it again.’ 

‘I can’t do
it.  Ask Columbine,’ Mistral persisted in a low voice, her eyes still not
meeting Leo’s iron stare.  

Leo sucked in
a breath and was suddenly professional again, ‘Of course any female warrior
could, in theory, undertake this mission.  However, Columbine cannot read
auras and would therefore have to provoke some sort of response from the man to
be able to make an assessment – and that could be dangerous for her.’ 

Mistral
remained silent, privately thinking that the convicted murderer would be the
one in danger.

Leo frowned
angrily at her lack of response and took a step closer to her, ‘All you have to
do is put on a dress, smile prettily at him across his local tavern then read
his aura to gauge his response.  It’s very basic!  Even for you!’

Mistral
flinched but said nothing.

‘That’s if you
can remember how to smile,’ Leo added coldly.

Mistral kept
her eyes averted and tried to conceal the truth from Leo’s piercing gaze.

Leo regarded
her for a long moment then his eyes narrowed suspiciously, ‘Don’t tell me you
have lost the ability to read auras,’ he finally hissed.

Mistral didn’t
respond; her mind had suddenly gone blank.

Leo heaved a
sigh and Mistral thought she heard disappointment in the sound, ‘Oh well,
Golden it is then,’ he muttered and abruptly turned on his heel and stalked
off. 

Mistral
remained standing outside the locked office door, feeling a wave of dejection
flood through her.  With no Contract to occupy her, the rest of the
weekend stretched out like an eternity before her.  She no longer felt
like going hunting or even drinking and playing cards.  Feeling miserable,
she began to walk without paying any attention to where she was going. 
The door to the Main Hall was open and Mistral wandered through with the vague
thought that the twins might be in there.

The only
occupants were Golden and Columbine, sat around a small table near the
fire.  Golden was enthusiastically describing the benefits of some new
skin lotion she was using and Columbine was gazing up at her with a rapt
expression, drinking in every word. 

Golden glanced
up when Mistral walked in and a spiteful smile lit her face.

‘Want to
borrow one of my old dresses Mistral?’ she called.

Mistral stared
blankly at her.  So Golden had been told about the Contract before her …
Mistral knew that should mean something but her mind felt too slow to grasp the
meaning.  As Mistral continued to stare expressionlessly into Golden’s
sneering face, Leo appeared in the doorway behind her.

‘Golden. 
The Contract is yours.  Go prepare,’ he ordered briskly and vanished
before Golden could argue.

Golden looked
briefly taken aback by Leo’s curt tone but quickly recovered.  She leapt
off her stool and rounded on Mistral with a furious expression on her face.

‘Oh great,’
she spat.  ‘So now I’ve got to traipse off to some godforsaken hovel and
make eyes at an ex-murderer just because you couldn’t be bothered to brush your
hair!  Which, by the way, would be a start!  Have you even seen
yourself lately?  You know what Mistral, I used to think that you had some
potential, but you’ve really let yourself go.  You need to take a good
long look in the mirror!’  giving Mistral a malicious glare she swept from
the room with a glowering Columbine stamping along in her wake.

Mistral
remained rooted to the spot, her face still frozen into the same expressionless
mask.  She realised dully that she should have reacted to the insults,
that the Mistral of a couple of months ago would have been in Golden’s face in
an instant … or at very least have come up with a suitably scathing
response.  But then the Mistral of a couple of months ago would still have
been able to read auras and would have taken the Contract.

She turned
from the empty room and began to walk slowly towards her room, her mind
empty.  As she walked Golden’s words came back to her, circling in her
head like an irritating fly.

‘You need
to take a good long look in the mirror…

Well, she
didn’t own a mirror, so that one was out. 

Reaching the
quiet sanctuary of her room, Mistral slumped onto her bed and curled up into a
ball and lay like that for a long while, staring blankly at the wall until
sleep claimed her.

When Mistral
awoke it was dark.  She rolled onto her back and stared out of the
window.  The moon glimmered out from behind a bank of cloud, spearing her
room with silver beams.  She lay in the silence until she heard the distant
chimes of the village clock strike three and realised that she had been asleep
for over twelve hours.  Her sleep had been deep and dreamless yet she had
awoken with none of the pleasantly refreshed feeling she would have expected
to.  Instead, her mind felt heavy and sluggish, as though she were
fighting against a drug of some kind.

With nothing
to do except think, Mistral let her mind roam.  She found herself
returning again to Golden’s words to her.  The phrase kept repeating
itself relentlessly in her mind, like a mantra. 

‘You need
to take a good long look in the mirror... You need to take a good long look in
the mirror…’

Mistral sat up
and rubbed her forehead, trying to dispel the thought, but it refused to
go. 
What’s wrong with me
?  Mistral thought desperately. 
Serenity had plied her with every tonic the apothecary stores had to offer and
swore that whatever had ailed her on her return from The Desert Lands was
cured.  So why did she feel so ...
wrong
?  No, not wrong
because that would be
something
.  She just felt numb ... dead
inside …

And now her
Training Captain knew that she could no longer see auras.  Her second
year’s apprenticeship was gone for certain.  She sighed and wished that
she even cared about that.  Puzzling over her complete lack of emotion for
anything, Mistral could only conclude that there must be something wrong with
her mind.  Perhaps that’s why there was such interest in her parentage
...  maybe she the child of some creature known for its insanity.  If
only Serenity could look into her mind and see what was wrong with her –

Mistral lifted
her head up suddenly.

That was it.

She needed to
take a good long look in the mirror.

Mistral felt a
spark of hope ignite inside her, burning away the suffocating lethargy. 
She would read her own aura in a mirror and see exactly what was going on in
her mind. 

If she could
read her own aura that was …

Mistral
quickly shook that thought and clung instead to the stubborn grain of
determination that formed such a significant part of her character, a part that
was now giving her just enough strength to at least want to attempt to read her
own aura.

Mistral looked
around her room, biting her lip thoughtfully.  She didn’t own a mirror –
there was one in the bathroom but she didn’t want anyone to walk in and disturb
her.  She racked her brains, her eyes scouring her darkened room for
something to use as a reflective surface.  Her eye fell on her
double-swords; honed and polished to perfection as always.  She leapt off
the bed and picked them up but her room was too dark to see if they would
provide enough of a reflection.  Mistral groped around for a candle,
eventually finding a waxy stub she lit it with a shaking hand and set it down
carefully on the floor, looking hopefully at the blade of one of the
swords.  The dim glow of the candle cast barely enough light for her to
make out the pattern on the hilt let alone cast a reflection.

Disappointed,
she laid the sword down beside her and began to list in her mind all of the
places she knew there were mirrors.

Golden’s room,
of course.  It was practically a shrine of mirrors.  But that was a
definite no go.  Did the twins have a mirror?  She wasn’t sure she’d
ever seen one in their room and didn’t fancy knocking on their door in the
middle of the night to find out.  Besides, she wanted to do this alone.

She sighed,
looking dejectedly at her swords.  Her mind began to work, slotting into
place the pieces of the puzzle.

Swords.

Training.

The vast
Training Room on the third floor that they used when the weather was too bad to
train outside!  It had one wall entirely mirrored for the apprentices to
practise their sword technique and was windowless, ensuring that she would have
complete privacy. 

Perfect!

Mistral
grabbed the candle stub and crept barefoot from her room.  Closing the
door quietly behind her she padded noiselessly along the wooden corridor. 
There were no rules in the Ri about being in or out of bed at certain times,
apprentices were always coming and going at strange hours due to the nature of
the work they took, but Mistral didn’t want to bump into anyone and have to
explain what she was doing.  She climbed the flight of stone steps to the
third floor, straining to catch the faintest sound.  The silence was
absolute, pressing against her eardrums, making her flinch at the noise of her
own breathing.  Mistral knew she would have to pass the base of the
staircase leading to Leo Sphinx’s tower room and hoped he was deeply
asleep.  She paused every few steps, listening to the banging of her heart. 
It was strange to feel it pounding so hard, sending the blood hammering through
her veins.  She realised that she actually felt alive again and smiled a
little to herself in the darkness.  Why did only danger seem to ignite
her? 

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