Lynn Flewelling - The Bone Doll's Twin

“Oh, yeah? Like this.” Ki hauled down the covers and showed Tobin a brown spot on his right hip the size of a man’s thumbprint. “Bad luck mark, a soothsayer told my mam, but I been lucky so far. Look at me, here with you. That’s luck! Now, my sister Ahra’s got one of them red ones like yours on her left tit. A wizard she showed it to down in Erind claimed it means she’s feisty and sharp-tongued, so I guess he must have known how to read marks better. She’s got a voice can curdle vinegar when she’s riled up.” He pulled the covers up again and sighed. “She treated me good, though, mostly. That’s her old quiver I come with. It’s got cuts on it from Plenimaran swords, and a stain she claims is blood!”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’ll show you tomorrow.”

As they drifted off to sleep at last, Tobin decided that having a companion might not be such a bad thing after all. Caught up in thoughts of sisters and battles, he didn’t notice the dark shape lurking unbidden in the far corner.

Brother woke Tobin sometime later with a cold touch on his chest. When Tobin opened his eyes, the ghost was standing next to the bed, pointing across the room at the chest where the doll was hidden. Tobin could feel Ki’s warm, bony back pressed against his own, but he also saw him kneeling in front of the chest.

Tobin shivered as he watched the boy open the lid and take out a few things, examining them with curiosity. Tobin knew this was a vision. Brother had shown him things before, like the dying fox, and they were never nice. When Ki found the doll, his expression changed to one Tobin knew all too well.

Then the scene shifted. It was daylight now; Iya and Arkoniel were there with Ki, and Father, too. They put the doll down on the chest and cut it open with long knives, and it bled. Then they took it away, looking back at him with expressions of such sadness and disgust that his face burned.

The vision vanished, but the fear remained. As much as the thought of losing the doll terrified him, the look on everyone’s faces—especially his father’s and Ki’s—filled him with grief and desperation.

Brother was still there beside the bed, touching his chest and Tobin’s, and Tobin knew he’d shown him a true thing. Nari had never bothered with the old chest before. Ki was going to find the doll and everything would be ruined.

He lay very still, his heart beating so loudly in his ears he could hardly hear Ki’s soft breathing behind him. What could he do?

Send him away , hissed Brother.

Tobin thought about what it had felt like to laugh with Ki and shook his head. “No,” he replied, barely making a sound with his mouth. He didn’t have to. Brother always heard him. “And don’t you ever try to hurt him again! I have to hide it somewhere else. Somewhere no one will find it.”

Brother disappeared. Tobin looked around and found him by the chest, motioning to him.

Tobin slid out of bed and crept across the cold floor, praying Ki wouldn’t wake up. The lid rose by itself as he reached for it. For an instant he imagined Brother slamming it down on him for spite as he reached in, but he didn’t. Tobin eased the flour sack out from under the rustling parchments and tiptoed into the corridor.

It was very late. No light showed at the staircase leading to the hall. The corridor lamp had gone out, but patches of moonlight gave him enough light to see by.

Brother wasn’t showing himself now. Tobin hugged the doll to his chest, wondering where to go. Arkoniel was still sleeping in the toy room next door, and would soon occupy the newly repaired rooms upstairs, so that was no good. There was nowhere downstairs that someone wouldn’t look, either. Perhaps he could get outside again into the forest and find some dry hole nearby? But no, the doors would all be barred and besides, there might be catamounts in the forest at night. Tobin shivered miserably. His bare feet ached with cold and he had to piss.

A creak of hinges came from the far end of the corridor as the door to the third floor swung open, shining like silver in the moonlight. The doorway beyond was a black mouth waiting to swallow him up.

Yes, there was one place, a place no one could go except Brother. And him.

Brother appeared in the open doorway. He looked at Tobin, then turned and disappeared up the dark stairs. Tobin followed, stubbing his bare toes on steps he could not see.

In the upstairs corridor moonlight streamed in through the new rosette windows, casting pools of black and silver lace on the walls.

It took all his courage to approach the tower door; he thought he could feel his mother’s angry spirit standing just on the other side, glaring at him right through the wood. He stopped a few feet away, heart beating so hard it hurt to breathe. He wanted to turn and run away but he couldn’t move, not even when he heard the lock give. The door swung slowly open to reveal—

Nothing.

His mother was not standing there. Neither was Brother. It was dark inside, so dark that the lacy moonlight faded to a murky glow just a few inches inside. A current of cold, stale air crawled around his ankles.

Come , Brother whispered from the darkness.

I can’t! Tobin thought, but somehow he was already following that voice. He found the first worn stone step with his toes and put his foot on it. The door closed behind him, shutting out the light. The spell that held Tobin broke. He dropped the doll and scrabbled for the door handle. The metal was so cold it burned his palm. The wooden door panels felt as if they were covered with frost as he beat his hands against them. The door wouldn’t budge.

Upstairs , Brother urged.

Tobin slumped against the door, breathing in panicky sobs. “Flesh my flesh,” he managed at last. “Blood my blood, bone my bone,” and there was Brother at the base of the stairs, dressed in a ragged nightshirt and holding out his hand for Tobin to follow. When he didn’t move, Brother squatted down in front of him, peering into his face. For the first time, Tobin saw that Brother had the same little crescent-shaped scar on his chin that Tobin did. Then Brother opened the neck of his shirt, showing Tobin that he had another scar, as well. Tobin could see two thin vertical lines of stitching on Brother’s chest, very close together, perhaps three inches long. It reminded Tobin of the seams on his mother’s dolls, but the stitches were even finer, and the skin was puckered and bloody around them.

That must hurt , Tobin thought.

It does, all the time , whispered Brother, and one bloody tear fell down his cheek before he disappeared again, taking all illusion of light with him.

Feeling his way blindly, Tobin found the bag and slid his feet across the stone floor until he found the first step again. The darkness made him dizzy, so he crawled up the stairs on his hands and knees, dragging the bag beside him. His bladder was so full it hurt, but he didn’t quite dare let go here in the darkness.

As he climbed higher he realized that he could see a few stars through the arrow slits above. This gave him his bearings and he hurried up the last few steps to find the upper door standing open for him, just as he’d expected. All he had to do now was hide the doll. Then he could find a chamber pot or even an open window and go back to bed.

The room was full of moonlight. Brother had opened the shutters. The few times Tobin had let himself think of this room, he remembered a cozy little chamber with tapestries on the walls and dolls on a table. This was a shambles. His memories of his last visit here were still fragmentary, but the sight of a broken chair leg stirred something dark and hurtful deep in his chest.

His mother had brought him up here because she was scared of the king.