Lynn Flewelling - The Bone Doll's Twin

Tobin’s eyes filled with happy tears. He had a real brother! All the rest of it—demons and wizards and strange women in the forest—it had just been one of his bad dreams.

He tried to look at Brother, to see if his eyes were blue like his own, but Brother pressed his face to Tobin’s back and whispered, “Ride faster, she’s almost here!”

Brother was afraid, and that made Tobin feel scared, too.

They rode further into the mountains than Tobin had ever gone before. Huge snow-capped peaks surrounded them on every side. The sky grew dark and a cold wind whipped around them.

“What will we do when it gets dark? Where will we sleep?” Tobin asked, looking around in dismay.

“Ride faster,” whispered Brother.

But when they rounded a bend in the road, they found themselves at the bottom of the meadow below the keep, heading for the bridge at a gallop. Gosi would not take the rein and stop—

Tobin woke with a start. Nari stood over him, rubbing his chest. It was nearly dark and the room was very cold.

“You’ve slept the day away, pet,” she told him.

It was only a dream! Tobin thought, heartbroken. He could feel Brother somewhere nearby, cold and strange as ever. Nothing had changed. He wanted to roll over and escape back into the dream, but Nari hustled him out of bed.

“You have visitors! Get up now, and let’s change that tunic.”

“Visitors? For me?” Tobin blinked up at her. He knew he should send Brother away, but it was too late now, with Nari fussing over him.

She pressed the backs of her fingers to his forehead and clucked her tongue. “You’re like ice, pet! Ah, look—the window’s been open all day, and you with no covers. Let’s get these clothes changed so you can come down to the hall and warm yourself.”

Tobin’s head still hurt. Shivering, he let Nari pull off his rumpled tunic, then wiggled into the stiff new one with the embroidery on the hem. This had come in the same package as the coverlet, along with another suit of good clothes, better than anything Tobin had ever worn, and other fancy things for the house.

He caught sight of Brother in a dark corner as he turned to leave the room; the demon was wearing the very same new clothes, but his face was paler than Tobin had ever seen it.

“Stay here,” he whispered. Following Nari downstairs, he wondered what it would feel like to have a living brother walking beside him.

The hall was dark except for the hearth fire and a few torches. Still beyond the reach of the light, Tobin could see the people standing by the hearth without being seen. Arkoniel, Cook, Tharin, and Mynir were all there, speaking softly with an old woman in a plain, travel-stained gown. She had a brown, wrinkled face and wore her thin grey hair in a braid over one shoulder. Was this the “she” Brother had spoken of? She looked like a peasant.

Mistaking his hesitation for fear, Nari took his hand. “Don’t be afraid,” she whispered, leading him down. “Mistress Iya is a friend of your father’s, and a great wizard. And look who she’s brought with her!”

As Tobin came closer, he saw that there was another stranger hanging back in the shadows behind the old woman. Iya said something over her shoulder and this one came forward into the light.

It was a boy.

Tobin’s heart sank. This must be the companion they’d promised him. They hadn’t forgotten about that after all, even though he had.

The boy was taller than he was, and looked older. His tunic was embroidered, but frayed at the hems and patched under one arm. His shoes were stained and his trousers were bound from ankle to knee with twine. Nari would have scolded Tobin for being so poorly turned out. The boy looked Tobin’s way just then, and the firelight struck his face. His skin was ruddy from the sun, and his thick brown hair fell in ragged bangs over his forehead. His dark eyes were wide now with trepidation as he looked around the hall. Tobin braced for the worst as Nari urged him into the light. Did this boy already know he was odd?

As soon as the boy noticed him, however, he made Tobin a quick, clumsy bow.

Tharin gave him a reassuring smile. “Prince Tobin, this is Kirothius, son of Sir Larenth of Oakmount Stead at Co-lath. He’s come to be your companion.”

Tobin returned the bow, then held up his hand for the warrior’s clasp as his father had taught him. Kirothius managed a small smile as he gripped it. His palm felt like a soldier’s: hard and callused.

“Welcome to the house of my father,” said Tobin. “I am honored—” It took a moment to summon the rest of the host’s ritual greeting; he’d never had to offer it by himself before. “I am honored to offer you the hospitality of my hearth, Kirothius, son of Larenth.”

“I am honored to accept, Prince Tobin.” Kirothius ducked his head again in a half bow. His front teeth were big and stuck out a little.

Tharin gave him a wink and Tobin felt a stab of jealousy. His friend already seemed to approve of this newcomer.

“And this is Mistress Iya,” said Arkoniel, introducing the old woman. “I’ve told you a little about her, my prince. She is my teacher, just as I am yours.”

“I am most glad to make your acquaintance, Prince Tobin,” Iya said, bowing. “Arkoniel had written me many good things about you.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” Tobin felt held by her eyes and voice. She might dress like a peasant, but there was an air of power about her that made him tremble a little.

All the same, when she smiled he saw kindness and a hint of amusement in her colorless eyes as she placed a hand on the new boy’s shoulder. “I hope that young Kirothius here will serve you well. He prefers to be called Ki, by the way, if you have no objection?”

“No, Mistress Iya. Welcome to the house of my father,” Tobin replied, bowing again.

The instant the words left his lips the room went cold and Brother came down the stairs like a hurricane, whipping new tapestries from the walls and scattering sparks from the hearth across the rushes in great swirling clouds. Ki cried out as an ember struck his cheek, then jumped to stand between Tobin and the fire.

With the wind came a deep, slow throbbing sound, like the beating of a huge drum. Tobin had never heard such a sound; it went through him and shook his heart in his chest. A loud buzzing noise filled his ears—it reminded him of something bad but he couldn’t quite recall what.

The wizard woman stood calmly in the midst of it all with nothing but her lips moving. Brother, no more than a dark blur of motion, flung a bench at her, but it veered away and toppled over on its side.

Brother whirled on Ki then and yanked on his cloak, trying to pull him into the fire. Tobin grabbed at the older boy’s arm as Ki fought to untie the lacings at his throat. They came free and both boys tumbled backward as the cloak pulled free and disappeared into the rafters.

As Tobin righted himself he caught the look of terror in Ki’s eyes and the sight burned him with shame.

Now he’s sure to hate me! he thought, knowing it was his fault for being so careless. He never should have gone to sleep without sending Brother away. Turning away from the others, he whispered, “Blood my blood, flesh my flesh, bone my bone. Go away, Brother. Leave them alone!”

The wind dropped instantly. The furniture stopped moving and silence fell over the room. The beautiful new newel post at the bottom of the staircase split down the middle with a loud crack that made them all jump, then Brother was gone.

When Tobin turned around again, both wizards were watching him as if they knew what he’d been doing. Iya stared at him for a long moment, then said something to Arkoniel, too low for Tobin to hear.