The Seer by Kirsten Jones Read Free Book Online Page A

goes
Master Sphinx’s grand unveiling tonight!
    Mistral closed
her eyes and exhaled slowly, ‘No … I have no idea, I’m not his dressmaker … not
read him yet … don’t want to read him … nothing of interest … yes and good.’
 
    Fabian gave
her a bemused look then smiled at her weary expression, realising that the
twins were inundating her with questions. 
    ‘I wish you
could read my thoughts,’ she muttered, catching his look.
    ‘Sometimes I
can,’ he murmured back, keeping his gaze fixed ahead.
    Mistral gave
him a long look from beneath her eyelashes, ‘You still owe me half a honeymoon
–’
    ‘I know.’
    Have you
read Bellicose La Monte yet?
    ‘No!’ 
She snapped loudly and immediately bowed her head, letting her hood cover her
face again to hide from the surprised looks of the two members of Bryden’s
tribe who were walking nearby.
    They reached
the Entrance Hall and stepped out into the biting cold.  A respectful hush
fell as the crowd parted to make way for the Divinus, making his final journey
to the village square.
    Mistral gazed
at the wicker coffin containing the body of the Ri’s greatest Seer.  It
seemed too small, too humble to contain such a powerful and influential
figure.  The woven bands of willow were adorned with sprigs of
white-berried mistletoe and waxy green holly.  Plaited black ribbons tied
two long poles of yew to either side, the polished wood resting upon the
shoulders of Leo, Malachi, an overawed looking Nereus and a profusely sweating
Mycroft Casterton.  Mistral fell in step behind the coffin, keeping a
tight hold on Fabian’s hand.  The walk down to the village was long and
slow.  Nobody spoke, the wintry silence broken only by the muffled beat of
the funeral drum.  The procession entered the square to meet a huge
gathering of mourners.  Warriors, villagers, Mage and Arcane; all had
gathered silently around the snow-capped pyre.  The pall bearers
approached slowly, every measured step seeming to take an age.  Finally
they were before the wooden structure, shuffling sideways to carefully lay the
coffin upon its platform.  Gleacher immediately stepped forward with a
blazing torch in his hand and paused, the flaming tip held close to the base of
the pyre.
    Mycroft
stepped forward, surreptitiously wiping a drip of sweat from his brow, ‘We
assign our brother’s body to the flames, but his soul is eternal.’ 
    Mycroft’s
voice was slightly out of breath, but not without aplomb.  Mistral watched
Gleacher touch the torch to the base of the pyre and flames instantly sprang
forth, quickly devouring the dry tinder and leaping up to consume the rest of
the pyre in a blaze of gold and red flames.
    ‘Arcane, Mage,
Ri.  We gather as one to celebrate the greatness of the Divinus.  May
his achievements live in our memories and in our hearts for this lifetime and
the next –’
    Mistral let
Mycroft’s plummy tones wash over her unnoticed, she was staring intently at the
mysterious heavily cloaked figure of Bellicose La Monte, willing her mind to
clear of all thoughts and focus on his aura.  Sensing the intensity of her
gaze, Bellicose lifted his head and met her gaze, Mistral gasped out aloud at the
force of his stare but she held his blood red gaze, refusing to break the
connection until his aura sprang into view in a violent swirl of crimson. 
Intense hatred flooded her mind, full of thoughts of vengeance and
retribution.  None were hers ... she was in his mind. 
    ‘What have you
Seen?’  Fabian whispered anxiously, disturbed by the intensity of her
reaction.
    ‘Bellicose
–’   
    ‘Ah,’ he
exhaled softly and held her hand more tightly again.  ‘I am sure it is not
a pretty sight.’
    ‘No.’
    Malachi?
    ‘Getting to it,’
she growled in response to the twins’ unspoken prompt. 
    Forcing her
gaze onto the sharp features of Malachi Nox, Mistral exhaled slowly and let her
mind reveal his hidden thoughts and desires.  An aura of deepest