Lynn Flewelling - The Bone Doll's Twin

But her eyes were clear now, he saw. She was almost smiling as she held out a hand to him. “Come, little love.”

She’d never spoken to him like that before. Tobin glanced nervously at his father’s door, but she bent and captured his hand in hers. Her grip was just a little too tight as she drew him to the locked door at the end of the corridor, the one that led upstairs.

“I’m not allowed up there,” Tobin told her, his voice hardly more than a squeak. Nari said the floors were unsound up there, and that there were rats and spiders big as his fist.

“You may come up with me,” she said, producing a large key from her skirts and opening the forbidden door.

Stairs led up to a corridor that looked very much like the one below, with doors on either side, but this one was dusty and dank-smelling, and the small, high-set windows were tightly shuttered.

Tobin glanced through an open door as they passed and saw a sagging bed with tattered hangings, but no rats. At the end of the corridor his mother opened a smaller door and led him up a very steep, narrow stairway lit by a few arrow slits in the walls. There was hardly enough light to make out the worn steps, but Tobin knew where they were.

They were in the watchtower.

He pressed one hand to the wall for balance, but pulled it away again when his fingers found patches of something rough that scaled away at his touch. He was scared now, and wanted to run back down to the bright, safe part of the house, but his mother still held his hand.

As they climbed higher, something suddenly flittered in the shadows overhead—the demon, no doubt, or some worse terror. Tobin tried to pull free, but she held him fast and smiled at him over her shoulder as she led him up to a narrow door at the top.

“Those are just my birds. They have their nests here and I have mine, but they can fly in and out whenever they wish.”

She opened the narrow door and sunlight flooded out. It made him blink as he stumbled over the threshold.

He’d always thought the tower was empty, abandoned, except perhaps for the demon, but here was a pretty little sitting room furnished more nicely than any of the rooms downstairs. He gazed around in amazement, never imagining his mother had such a delightful secret place.

Faded tapestries covered the windows on three sides, but the west wall was bare and the heavy shutters open. Tobin could see sunlight shining on the snow-covered peaks in the distance, and hear the rush of the river below.

“Come, Tobin,” she urged, going to a table by the window. “Sit with me a while on your name day.”

A little spark of hope flared up in Tobin’s heart and he edged further into the room. She’d never remembered his birthday before.

The room was very cozy and comfortable. A long table stood against the far wall, piled with doll-making goods. On another table, finished dolls—dark-haired and mouthless as always, but dressed in tunics of velvet and silk fancier than any Tobin owned—sat propped in a double rank against the wall.

Perhaps she brought me here to give me one for my name day , he thought. Even without mouths, they were very pretty. He turned hopefully to his mother. For an instant he could almost see how she’d smile, telling him to pick whichever one he liked best, a special present just from her. But his mama just stood by the window, plucking restlessly at the front of her skirt with the fingers of her free hand as she stared down at the bare table in front of her. “I should have cakes, shouldn’t I? Honey cakes and wine.”

“We always have them in the hall,” Tobin reminded her, casting another longing glance at the dolls. “You were there last year, remember? Until the demon knocked the cake on the floor and—”

He faltered to a stop as other memories of that day came back. His mother had burst into tears when the demon came, then started screaming. His father and Nari had carried her away and Tobin had eaten his broken bits of cake in the kitchen with Cook and Tharin.

“The demon?” A tear rolled down his mother’s pale cheek and she hugged the doll tighter. “How can they call him that?”

Tobin looked to the open doorway, gauging an escape. If she started screaming now, he could run away down the stairs, back to people who loved him and could be counted on to do what he expected. He wondered if Nari would be angry with him for going upstairs.

But his mother didn’t scream. She just sank into a chair and wept, clutching the ugly doll to her heart.

He started to edge his way toward the door, but his mama looked so terribly sad that instead of running away, he went to her and rested his head on her shoulder, the way he did with Nari when she was sad and homesick.

Ariani put an arm around him and pulled him close, stroking his unruly black hair. As usual, she hugged too hard, stroked too roughly, but he stayed, grateful for even this much affection. For once, the demon let him be.

“My poor little babies,” she whispered, rocking Tobin. “What are we to do?” Reaching into her bodice, she took out a tiny pouch. “Hold out your hand.”

Tobin obeyed and she shook out two small objects: a silver moon charm, and a little piece of wood capped on both ends with the red metal he’d seen on the backs of shields.

She picked up one, then the other, and pressed them to Tobin’s forehead as if she expected something to happen. When nothing did, she tucked them away again with a sigh.

Still holding Tobin close, she rose and drew him to the window. Lifting him up with surprising strength, she stood him on the wide stone sill. Tobin looked down between the toes of his slippers and saw the river rushing in white curls around the rocks below. Frightened again, he gripped the window casing with one hand, his mother’s thin shoulder with the other.

“Lhel!” she shouted at the mountains. “What are we to do? Why don’t you come? You promised you’d come!”

She gripped the back of Tobin’s tunic, pushing him slightly forward, threatening his balance.

“Mama, I want to get down!” Tobin whispered, clutching her harder.

He turned his head and looked into eyes that were cold and hard again. For an instant she looked as if she didn’t know who he was or what they were doing here at this window so high above the ground. Then she yanked him back and they both tumbled to the floor. Tobin bumped his elbow and let out a yelp of pain.

“Poor baby! Mama’s sorry,” his mother sobbed, but it was the doll she rocked in her arms as she crouched there on the floor, not him.

“Mama?” Tobin crept to her side, but she ignored him.

Heartbroken and confused, he ran from the room, wanting nothing more than to escape the sound of her sobs. He was almost to the bottom of the tower when something pushed him hard in the back and he fell the last few steps, banging his shins and scuffing his palms.

The demon was with him, a dark shape flitting just at the edge of his vision. Tobin couldn’t recall just when he’d begun to see it, but he knew he hadn’t always been able to. It darted close and yanked at a stray lock of his hair.

Tobin struck out wildly. “I hate you! I hate you I hate you I hate you !”

Hate you ! echoed back from the shadows overhead.

Tobin limped back downstairs to the toy room, but even here the daylight seemed tarnished. The savor of his earlier excitement had been leeched away, and his shins and hands hurt. All he wanted was to burrow under his bedcovers with the current family of friendly little wooden people waiting there. As he turned to go, his father came in.

“There you are!” Rhius exclaimed, hoisting Tobin up in his strong arms and giving him a kiss. His beard tickled and suddenly the day seemed a little brighter. “I’ve looked high and low for you. Where have you been? And how did you manage to get so dusty?”