Tamir - The Bone Doll's Twin Part 28

'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 nightand-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. lya 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 guardians.h.i.+p 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 furnis.h.i.+ng 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 lya. 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 lya with his progress, plans, and hopes. In her infrequent replies he read approval and encouragement.

This is what a Third Oreska 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. ^,'he 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 pa.s.sion. 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.

More laughter, and a bellow from Tharin. It appeared Ki had taught Tobin of s...o...b..a.l.l.s and their uses.

Work on the snow fort halted as the battle raged. Arkoniel was tempted to go down and join them, but the warmth and quiet of his *workroom won out.

The first step in creating magic, as lya had taught him, was to envision the desired result. Casting a known spell began that way; if you wanted to make a fire, you envisioned a flame, then let form follow intent with focus.

Creating a new spell was simply a matter of finding out the steps in between to make that intent a reality.

At first, with the adjustment to his new role and home, and the excitement of setting up his own rooms occupying his mind, he'd toyed with alchemy and other known sciences, perfecting the skills he already possessed. However, with a routine established and winter settling in, he found himself thinking about his encounter with Lhel.

The startling power of her s.e.xuality found its way into his dreams more and more often; he could feel her heat against him and smell her musky, feral scent.

He awoke each time with his heart pounding in panic, drenched in sweat. In the light of day he was able to discount all this as the raging of his young and unruly body. The thought of touching her as he did in those dreams made him sick with anxiety.

What drew him back to those memories today was not the carnality of their encounter, but what he thought he'd seen her do that day in the forest, and a dream.

The projection of one's image was a known magic; not easily mastered, but not uncommon, either. lya could do it and Arkoniel himself had had a few minor successes, but by Oreska magic the resulting image was limited to the wizard's form alone, usually very clear and unnatural, like a specter seen in daylight.

That day by the road, however, he'd seen Lhel as if through an oval window; the light that had struck her was daylight, and he'd been able to see the marsh around her before he'd had any idea that one existed in the area. His own mind could not have filled in such detail; Lhel had shown him where she was as clearly as if she had taken him there through a hole in the air.

A hole in the air.

The image had come to him just as he was waking up that morning. Up until now, he'd been relying on disappearance spells, trying to bend them into a combination of form and movement. Nothing had come even close to working.

But this morning he had a new idea, an inspiration left in the wake of a dream. In it, he'd again seen Lhel floating in that green-tinged light that did not match the sunlight where he stood. She was naked, beckoning him, as if she wanted him to step through the s.h.i.+ning oval and join her without the trouble of walking up the hill. In this dream he perceived some sort of hole or tunnel connecting them by a tube of s.h.i.+fting green light. In the dream he'd known he was about to grasp the secret he needed, but the image of the naked witch intruded again and he woke with a full bladder and an aching groin.

As he sat here pondering all this, another long-forgotten and seemingly unrelated memory came to him.

He and lya had once explored echoing tunnels at the base of an ancient peak in the northern territories.

The tunnels reminded him of enormous mole burrows, but the walls were gla.s.sy smooth and showed no sign of digging. lya claimed that the mountain had created them itself somehow, and showed him chunks of obsidian that contained tiny holes, miniatures of the tunnels themselves, but these were as fine as ant holes in fine earth. His member stirred again as he settled on a stool by his worktable and attempted to summon the details of the dream more clearly. He willed his body to behave and concentrated on the image: a hole in the air-no, a tunnel! Easy to visualize, but how to create such a thing when he didn't even understand how the mountain had achieved it?

Never in all their travels had lya or he discovered any spell that resembled such a thing as he envisioned. Here, in his newfound solitude, he worked alone at devising some mechanism of mind that could encompa.s.s his vision.

As he had so often over the past few weeks, Arkoniel reached into a nearby bowl and took out a dried bean. It was half the size of his thumbnail and dark red with a smattering of white speckles, the sort his father's cook had called red hens. He rubbed it between thumb and forefinger, committing its weight and smoothness to memory.

Holding the image of the bean firmly in his mind, he placed it on the oak table in front of him, next to a lidded salt box Cook had grudgingly relinquished. Concentrating, he pushed the bean back and forth with his fingers a few times, then took his hand away and raised the bean with his mind until it hovered a foot off the table. Then he brought the full force of his concentration to bear on it, imagining the tunnel he'd dreamed of, willing the bean to find such a route into the closed box.

The bean certainly moved, but only in the usual prosaic manner. Flying against the box as if hurled from a sling, it struck the lid so hard it split in half. The pieces ricocheted in opposite directions and he heard them skitter away across the bare stone floor, no doubt to join their predecessors already scattered around the room.

'Bilairy's b.a.l.l.s!" he muttered, resting his face in his hands. Over the past few weeks he'd used enough beans to make a pot of soup, and always with the same discouraging results.

He spent another hour trying to get his mind around the construct of an opening in the air, but ended up with nothing more than a thumping headache.

Leaving off, he turned to surer magics for the rest of the afternoon. Shaking out a newly made firechip fro*-covered crucible, he placed it on a plate and mi-"Burn." The reddish brown chip flickered at **'

to release a small tongue of pale yellow fire that would burn until he told it to stop.

He set a crucible full of rainwater to boil over it on an iron tripod, then went to his herb cabinet for the various simples he needed to concoct a sleeping draught for Mynir.

The initial mixture stank fiercely, but Arkoniel didn't mind. A feeling of satisfaction crept over him as he sat watching the first bubbles rise. He'd gathered the makings himself in the forest and meadow, and woven the spells from memory. Such melding of magic and material things calmed his nerves; it was pleasing to have a finished, useful product at the end of the incantations. The firechip was his work, as well. Remnants of the latest brick he'd fas.h.i.+oned still lay on a plank nearby, next to the stone hammer he'd used to smash it into usable pieces. This batch would keep the house supplied until spring.

The smell of the steeping herbs brought him back to memories of Lhel, this time as she'd been during their journey to Ero. She'd used every pause and rest break to seek out useful things in the earth or among the dry autumn leaves. His face burned again as he recalled how he'd dismissed her then, not realizing the power she possessed.

More recent memories of musky, tattooed skin and whispered promises crept up on him, making the wizard's heart skip a giddy beat.

Had she known his secret hope? Had she shown him a glimpse of that trick on purpose to snare him?

During the long journey to Ero he'd caught her touching his mind so many times; how often had she stolen in unheeded?

He slid off the stool and went back to the window. Late afternoon shadows stretched themselves like long blue cats below the house and a three-quarter moon was rising. Tharin and the boys were gone.

Their fort stood like a tiny outpost, surrounded by a welter of trampled 2tprints. Below it, a single track line of footprints crossed the smooth white flank of the hillside, leading down to the bend in the river.

In the forest the bare trunks and branches stood stark black against the blanket of new snow like hairs on a miller's arm. Soon the real storms would come and choke the roads and trails until spring. The keep was well stocked with provisions and fuel, but how would a barefoot little woman, even a witch, survive?How had she survived so long here already?

And where was she right now?

He stretched his arms out over his head, trying to ignore the fresh thrill of guilt-tainted longing that coursed through him at the thought.

Instead, he leaned far out the window, letting the cold air deal with the sudden flush that suffused his cheeks.

From here he could hear the clatter of cooking pots echoing from the kitchen and the m.u.f.fled staccato of hooves on the road behind the keep. Arkoniel covered his eyes with one hand and sent a sighting spell up the mountain road. He was nearly as good at this spell as lya now, and could see over a distance of several miles for short periods of time.

Looking down from a hawk's height, he spotted Tobin and Ki galloping for home, cloaks billowing behind them. They were still some distance away and riding hard to get home before sunset. They'd come in late a few weeks earlier and moped like caged bears when Nari had kept them inside the walls for two days as punishment.

Arkoniel smiled to himself as he watched them. As always, Ki was talking and Tobin was laughing.

Suddenly, however, they both reined in so abruptly that their horses reared and wheeled, throwing up white bursts of snow. A third figure entered the wizard's field of vision and he let out a gasp of surprise.

It was Lhel.

She was wrapped in a long fur robe, her hair loose over her shoulders. Both boys dismounted and went to her, clasping her hands in greeting. Arkoniel did not have the power to hear their words at such a distance, but he could see their faces clearly enough. This was not a meeting of strangers.

The witch smiled fondly as she clasped hands with Ki. Tobin said something to her and she reached to touch his cold-reddened cheek.

Arkoniel shuddered, remembering those same fingers cutting, st.i.tching, weaving souls together.

They talked for a few moments, then the boys mounted again and continued homeward. Arkoniel kept the sighting on the witch, but he could already feel the power of the spell waning. He pressed his fingers into his eyelids, straining to keep her in sight as his ability to focus slowly faded.

Lhel remained in the road, watching them ride away. He would have to break it off soon, but he wanted desperately to see where she would go. Just before he gave up, she raised her head slightly, perhaps looking up at the rising moon. For an instant she seemed to look directly at him.

Arkoniel knew he'd held the vision too long. Suddenly he was on his knees under the window, head pounding, and colored sparks dancing dizzily before his eyes. When the worst of it had pa.s.sed, he pulled himself up and hurried down to the stables for his horse. Not bothering with a saddle, he climbed astride the sorrel and galloped up the road.

As he rode, he had time to wonder at the pounding of his heart and the furious sense of urgency that drove him on. He knew beyond all doubt that Lhel would not harm the children. What's more, he'd seen them part. Yet still he urged his horse on, desperate to find them- Her.

And why not? he asked himself. She held secrets to magic he had only dreamed of. lya wanted him to learn from her, and how could he do that without confronting her?

And why would she still he there, standing in the cold road with night coming on?

Tobin and Ki came around a bend and reined in to greet him. He pulled his gelding around so hard he had to cling to its mane to keep his seat.

'You met a woman on the road. What did she say to you?" He was surprised at how harshly the words came out. Ki s.h.i.+fted uneasily in the saddle, not looking at him. Tobin met his gaze squarely and shrugged.

'Lhel says she's getting tired of waiting for you," he replied, and for a moment he was again the dark, strange child Arkoniel had met that summer day. More than that; in the failing light, eyes shadowed to near black, he looked eerily like his demon twin. The sight sent a s.h.i.+ver up Arkoniel's back. Tobin pointed back up the road. "She says for you to hurry. She won't wait much longer."

Lhel. She. Tobin was speaking of someone he knew, not a stranger encountered by chance on theroad.

Lhel was waiting for him, would not wait much longer.

'You'd best get home," he told them, and galloped on. He grasped for words to greet her with and found only demands. Where had she been all these months? What had she said to the child? But more than that, what magic had she used the first time she'd come to Arkoniel in the forest?

He cursed himself for not noting any landmarks in his vision, but in the end it didn't matter. A mile or so on and there she was, still standing in the road just as he'd last seen her, her shadow lying blue on the snow. The failing light softened her features, making her look like a young girl lost in the forest.

The sight drove every question from his mind. He reined his horse in and slid down to face her. Her smell came to him, hot on the cold air. It took away his voice and pulled a powerful ache of longing through him. She reached to touch his cheek, just as she had with Tobin, and the caress sent a jolt of raw desire through him, making it hurt to breathe. All he could think to do was to reach out for her, pull her close, and crush her warm body against his. She moaned softly as she pressed against him, rubbing a hard thigh against the answering hardness between his legs.

Thought fled, leaving only sensation and instinct. She must have guided him, he realized later, but at that moment he seemed to be moving in a dream filled with hands and warm lips moving over his skin. He wanted to resist, to summon the rect.i.tude that had guided his life to this point, but all he could think of now was lya's oblique permission to do exactly this; give Lhel what she wanted in return for the promise of knowledge.

Lhel wasted no time on niceties. Pulling him down on top of the fur robe, she dragged her skirt up to her waist. He fumbled his tunic out of the way, then he was falling onto her, into her, and she was pulling him deeper, so deep that he could scarely comprehend the hot grip of her body around his before he felt something like lightning strike him, pulling a raw cry of amazement from his throat. She shoved him over onto his back, and he felt the soft snow cradle him as she rode him beneath the first stars of evening.

Head thrown back, she keened wildly, clenching his member with whatever strange inner muscles women possessed. Lightning struck again, harder and more consuming this time, and Arkoniel went blind, listening to his own cries and hers echoing through the forest like wolf song.

Then he was gulping air, too stunned to move. She leaned forward and kissed his cheeks, eyelids, and lips. His throat was sore, his body cold, and their mingled fluids were trickling in a chilly, ticklish stream over his b.a.l.l.s. He couldn't have stirred if a whole regiment of cavalry had come thundering down the road at them. His horse nickered softly nearby, as if amused.

Lhel sat back and took his hand. Pressing it to one full breast through her rough dress, she grinned down at him. "Make spell for me, Oreska."

He goggled stupidly up at her. "What?"

She kneaded his fingers into her firm, pliant flesh and her grin widened. "Make a magic for me."

The stars caught his eye again and he whispered a spell in their honor. A point of brilliant white light sprang to life above them, radiant as a star itself. The sheer beauty of it made him laugh. He spun the light into a larger sphere, then split it into a thousand sparkling shards and placed them in her hair like a wreath of frost and diamonds. Bathed in their ethereal light, Lhel looked like a wild spirit of the night masquerading in rags. As if reading his thoughts on his face, she grasped the neck of her dress and tore it down the front, revealing again the marks of power that covered her body. Arkoniel touched them reverently, tracing spirals, whorls, and crescents, then shyly reached down to where their bodies were still joined, flesh to flesh.

'You were right. lya tried to tell me..." he managed at last, caught between wonder and betrayal. "It was all a lie, that this robs a wizard of power." He raised his hand to the crown of light glowing in her hair. "I've never made anything so beautiful."

Lhel took his hand again and pressed it to her heart. "Not lies for all, Oreska. Some can't serve the G.o.ddess. But you? What you feel here..." She tapped his chest with her free hand. "That's what you make here." She touched his forehead. "lya thinks this. She tried tell you."

'You heard us talking that day?"

'I hear a lot. See a lot. See you sleep with longing in your raluk." She squeezed him inside of her andgave him a playful wink. "I try send my words to you in dreams, but you stubborn one! Why you make me send children after you with all that heat in you?"

Arkoniel stared up at the sky, trying to summon the fear that had beset him less than an hour earlier.

How had he come to be here, sated and laughing, without any memory of decision or consent? "Did you make me-?"

Lhel shrugged. "Can't make if desire don't be in you. Wasn't, that first time in the mud place. Now it is; I just call it out."

'But you could have had me easily in the-the 'mud place'!" Yet even as he said it, Arkoniel knew that something important had s.h.i.+fted in himself since that day at the marsh.

'I don't take," she said softly. "You give."