Lynn Flewelling - The Bone Doll's Twin

Ki pulled out the carved horse charm he wore around his neck. “I’m your squire. It was all I could find and—” Ki stopped, staring gape-mouthed over Tobin’s shoulder.

The hair on Tobin’s neck rose. Did catamounts hunt in pairs? Or packs? He twisted around quickly, lost his balance, and fell heavily on his backside.

Lhel stood a few feet away, looking as dirty and ragged as he remembered. She didn’t seem at all surprised to find them here with a dead catamount.

“You be looking for me, keesas?”

“Well, yes. I—I hope you don’t mind. I told my friend—He’s never met a witch. And—and you said you were going to teach me things,” he finished lamely, unable to tell in the failing light if she was angry or not.

“And instead you be find by big maskar.” She nudged the dead cat with one rag-bound foot.

“Brother stopped it from catching me, then Ki came and drew it off and Brother killed—”

“I kill. Brother not make death.”

Both boys gaped up at her. “You? But—but how?” asked Tobin.

She snorted. “I witch.” She knelt and cupped Tobin’s face between her rough palms. “You be hurt, keesa?”

“No.”

“You?” She reached to touch Ki’s neck.

Ki shook his head.

“Good.” Lhel grinned, showing the gaps of missing teeth. “You Tobin’s brave good friend. You got voice, keesa?”

Ki blushed. “I don’t know what to say to a witch.”

“Say ‘hello, witch,’ maybe?”

Ki got to his knees and made her a bow as if she were a lady. “Hello, Mistress Lhel. And thank you! I’m in your debt.”

Lhel placed a hand on his head. For an instant Tobin thought he caught a fleeting look of sadness in her eyes and it sent an unpleasant chill coiling through his belly. But the look was gone when she turned and drew Tobin into a hug. He accepted the embrace stiffly; she still didn’t smell very good.

Lhel held him tight for a moment and whispered, “This a good keesa. You be good to him? Be protecting him?”

“Protecting him? From who?”

“You know, comes the time.” Lhel tapped a finger against his chest. “You hold that here, don’t be forget.”

“I won’t.”

Tobin pulled away. Brother stood close enough to touch now and he tried to, to thank him. As always, his hand found no purchase on that solid-looking form, only a patch of colder air.

“How did you know we were here?” Ki asked.

“I be seeing you many time to know what kind of good friend my Tobin be having. You be fine warriors together.” She touched her forehead. “I see it here.” She looked back at Tobin, then pointed to the keep. “You got another teacher. You like?”

“No. He does magic, but not like yours. Mostly he teaches us how to read and figure.”

“He tried to teach us dancing, too, but he’s like a big heron on ice,” Ki told her. “Will you come to the house with us, Mistress? It’s not my place to offer you hospitality, but you saved my life. It’s a cold night and-and Cook is making a galantine pie.”

She patted his shoulder. “No, they don’t be know me. Not tell, yes?”

“I won’t!” Ki promised, shooting Tobin a conspiratorial grin. The tale of a witch had been a fine secret; the witch herself was a treasure beyond all hopes.

“We have to get home.” Tobin cast another worried look at the sky; it had darkened to purple-and-gold behind the black peaks. “Now that we’ve found you, can we come visit you again? You said you’d be my teacher, too.”

“Time come. Not yet.” She put two fingers in her mouth and let out a piercing whistle. The runaway horses came trotting up the road, dragging their loose reins in the snow. “You come visit times, though.”

“Where? How will we find you?”

“You seek. You find.” And with that she stepped lightly away and vanished into the gathering darkness.

“By the Flame!” Ki bounced up and down in excitement and punched Tobin on the arm. “By the Flame, she’s just as you said! A real witch. She killed that catamount without even touching it. And she told our future, did you hear? Fine warriors!” He mimed a fierce blow at some future foe, then gasped at the pain in his side. It didn’t slow him down much though. “The two of us together! Prince and squire.”

Tobin raised his hand and Ki clasped it. “Together. But we can’t tell,” Tobin reminded him, all too familiar with Ki’s tendency to blurt out whatever came into his head.

“By my honor, Prince Tobin, I shall obey. Torture wouldn’t drag it out of me. Which is what we’re in for when we get home! The sun’s down for certain now.” He looked ruefully at his torn tunic. “How are we going to explain this? If Nari finds out she’ll never let us out of the house again!”

Tobin chewed at his lower lip a moment, knowing Ki was right. Even with Arkoniel’s support, Nari still fretted and fussed over them if they were out of her sight for too long. The thought of losing a single day of their newfound freedom was intolerable. “We’ll just tell her Dragon ran away with you. That’s not even a lie.”

Rhius returned to Ero before the turn of the month, leaving Arkoniel and Tharin once more in charge of the boys.

Having defined his duties as tutor to his own satisfaction and that of his young charges, Arkoniel was pleased to find himself with a great deal of time to pursue his own studies. Iya had been content to wander, collecting ideas and practicing her craft for those who needed it and could pay. Arkoniel had always wished to create and study; now it seemed Illior had granted him both the means and the opportunity to do so.

By late Kemmin the rooms on the third floor were finally refurbished and he took possession of two of them: a small, comfortable bedchamber, and a large, high-ceilinged room adjoining it. In return for his guardianship of Tobin, the duke had granted the wizard a virtually unlimited allowance to pursue his own studies when not otherwise engaged.

For the first time in his well-traveled life, Arkoniel had both ample time and the means to pursue more complex magics. Long before the final coat of plaster was applied to the upstairs walls, he set about furnishing what he already thought of as his workroom. Over the next few months crates arrived almost daily, filled with books and instruments he’d seen in his travels with Iya. From the foundries and kilns of Ylani came the mortars, limbics, and crucibles for alchemical studies and the compounding of magical objects. At Alestun he found tables, braziers, and tools enough to fill another section of the room. He sent to the mines of the northern territories for fine, clear crystals and wrote to other wizards for herbs, ores, and other rare substances not available locally. He began to wonder if he dared ask for another room. In return for such largesse, he began crafting every household simple he knew how to make.

Since he dared commit little news of Tobin to writing, he filled long letters to Iya with his progress, plans, and hopes. In her infrequent replies he read approval and encouragement.

This is what a Third Orëska might be , she wrote, choosing her words carefully. Not one wizard working alone, but many, sharing their knowledge with generations of students for the benefit of all. I expect you will have something new to show me, when next we meet.

He fully intended to fulfill that expectation, and with something much more impressive than a new fire spell.

The year’s first heavy snowstorm came on the fifth night of Cinrin. The following day the world was a startling palate of black and white under a sky of dazzling blue. The boys were absolutely incapable of sitting still for lessons with such a landscape waiting for them outside the window. Shaking his head, Arkoniel released them and retired to the workshop to pursue his current passion. Soon after, he heard laughter from outside. Going to the window, he saw Tharin and the boys building a snow fortress in the meadow. The slope around them looked like a sparkling white expanse of fine salt, unbroken except for the area they’d chowdered up with their building. Where they’d walked and rolled their snow boulders, the shadows showed blue. The road and bridge had disappeared beneath the snow. Only the river remained, flowing like a thick black serpent between its mounded white banks.