They were in the middle of a toss when the faint stir of bedclothes caught Tobin’s attention. Jumping to his feet, he bent over Ki and took his hand. “Are you awake, Ki? Can you hear me?”
His heart leaped when Ki’s dark lashes fluttered against his cheek. “Tob?”
“And me,” Tharin said, smoothing Ki’s hair back from his brow. His hand was shaking, but he was smiling.
Ki looked around blearily. “Master Porion … tell him … too tired to run today.”
“You’re at the keep, remember?” Tobin had to stop himself from squeezing Ki’s hand too tightly. “You followed me out here.”
“What? Why would …” He stirred against the pillow, struggling to stay awake. “Oh, yes. The doll.” His eyes widened. “Brother! Tobin, I saw him.”
“I know. I’m sorry he—” Tobin broke off. Tharin was right there, overhearing everything. How was he going to keep Ki from blurting out more?
But Ki was fading again. “What happened? Why—why does my head hurt?”
“You don’t remember?” asked Tharin.
“I the doll … I remember riding …” Ki trailed off again and for a moment Tobin thought he’d gone back to sleep. Then, eyes still closed, he whispered, “Did I find you, Tob? I don’t remember anything after I got to Alestun. Did you get the doll?”
Tharin pressed the back of his hand to Ki’s cheek and frowned. “He’s a bit warm.”
“Hungry,” Ki mumbled peevishly.
“Well, that’s a good sign.” Tharin straightened up. “I’ll fetch you some cider.”
“Meat.”
“We’ll start with cider and see how you do with it.”
“I’m sorry,” Ki rasped as soon as Tharin was gone. “I shouldn’t have said anything about—him.”
“It’s all right. Forget it.” Tobin sat on the edge of the bed and took Ki’s hand again. “Did Brother hurt you?”
Ki’s eyes went vague. “I—I don’t know. I don’t remember …” Then, abruptly, “How come you never told me?”
For one awful moment Tobin thought Ki had seen him with Lhel and Arkoniel, after all, and guessed his secret. He’d have blurted out the truth if Ki hadn’t spoken first.
“I wouldn’t have laughed, you know. I know it was your mother’s. But even if it was just some old doll, I’d never have laughed at you,” Ki whispered, eyes sad and full of questions.
Tobin stared down at their interlaced fingers. “The night Iya first brought you here, Brother showed me a vision. I saw the way people would look at me if they knew I had it.” He gestured helplessly. “I saw you and you—I was afraid you’d think badly of me if you knew.”
Ki let out a weak snort. “Don’t know that I’d believe anything he showed.” He looked around, as if fearing that Brother was listening, then whispered, “He’s a nasty thing, isn’t he? I mean, he’s your twin and all, but there’s something missing in him.” His fingers tightened on Tobin’s. “I didn’t understand why he wanted me to bring it before, but now—He thought it would make trouble between us, Tob. He’s always hated me.”
Tobin couldn’t deny that, especially after what had happened.
“I’d have come after you anyway, though,” Ki said, and a deep hurt crept into his voice. “Why’d you run off without me like that?”
Tobin clasped Ki’s hand with both of his. “It wasn’t like that! I thought I had plague. I was afraid I’d give it to you and Tharin and the others. All the way out here I was so scared it was already too late, that the deathbirds would nail you all up in the palace and—”
Tobin broke off in alarm as a tear trickled down Ki’s cheek.
“If you had been sick … If you’d gone off and died somewhere alone on the road … I couldn’t have stood it!” Ki whispered, voice quavering. “I’d just as soon die as live with the thought of it!” He clutched at Tobin’s hand. “Don’t you ever—Don’t!”
“I’m sorry, Ki. I won’t.”
“Swear it, Tob. Where you go, I go, no matter what. Swear it by the Four.”
Tobin shifted their right hands into the warrior’s clasp. “I swear it by the Four.”
Brother was wrong, he thought angrily. Or he lied to me, just for spite.
“Good. That’s settled.” Ki tried to turn his head and dry his cheek but couldn’t quite manage it. Tobin used the edge of the sheet to finish the job.
“Thanks,” Ki said, embarrassed. “So what did happen?”
Tobin told him what he could, though he had no idea how Ki had found his way to Lhel’s camp, and Ki still didn’t remember.
“Wonder what Old Slack Guts will have to say about all this?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll explain what happened. It wasn’t your fault.” Ki wasn’t strong enough yet to hear about the letter.
Satisfied for now, Ki closed his eyes. Tobin sat with him until he was certain his friend was asleep. When he tried to let go of his hand, however, Ki’s fingers closed tighter around his.
“I’d never a’made fun, Tob,” he mumbled, more asleep than awake. “Never would.” Another tear seeped out from under his lashes and trickled down toward his ear.
Tobin wiped it away with his finger. “I know.”
“Don’t feel so good. Cold … Climb in, would you?”
Tobin kicked off his shoes and climbed under the covers, trying not to jostle him. Ki muttered softly and turned his face Tobin’s way.
Tobin watched him sleep until his own eyes grew heavy. If Tharin did come back with the cider, Tobin didn’t hear him.
Arkoniel and Iya met Tharin in the hall and heard the good news. Arkoniel nearly wept with relief, both that Ki was awake at last and that he recalled nothing that would endanger his life. Whether that was thanks to Brother or Lhel, he didn’t care, so long as Ki was safe.
“I think I’ll sleep in Tobin’s bed tonight,” Tharin said, kneading his lower back ruefully. “I’ve had enough of chairs, and it’s certain Tobin won’t leave Ki.”
“You’ve earned a decent rest,” said Iya. “I believe I’ll do the same. Are you coming up, Arkoniel?”
“I’ll sit up awhile.”
“He’ll be fine,” she told him, giving him a reassuring smile. “Come up soon, won’t you?”
Tharin started after her toward the stairs, then turned to Arkoniel. “Do you know of anyone the boys call ‘Brother’?”
Arkoniel’s heart seemed to stop in his chest. “Where did you hear that name?”
“Just something Ki said as he came around. Something about someone’s brother giving him that doll. No?” He yawned mightily and ran his hand over his chin. “Well, he was still pretty groggy. His mind must have been wandering.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Iya said, slipping her arm through his and leading him to the stairs. “Or perhaps you heard wrong? Come along now, before we have to carry you up.”
Arkoniel waited until the household was asleep, then stole in to see the boys. Tobin had crawled into bed with Ki. Even asleep he looked sad and depleted, but Ki was smiling. As Arkoniel watched, Tobin stirred and groped for his friend’s shoulder, as if to assure himself that he was still there.
Arkoniel sank into the chair, not trusting his legs to hold him up. It was always worse at night, the memory of what he had done. And what he’d nearly done.
He’d relived that awful moment in the forest a hundred times over the past few days. Tossing on his bed at night, he saw Ki coming toward them through the trees, breaking into that ready smile of his as he caught sight of Tobin huddled over the spring, revealed in her true form. Ki raised his hand, waving to—who? Had he seen her, recognized her, or had it been Arkoniel he was greeting? Lhel had thrown a fur robe over Tobin, but had she been quick enough?
He’d clung to that crumb of doubt, even as he lifted his hand to keep the vow he’d made to Iya and Rhius the day they’d agreed to let another child come to the keep. He himself had told Iya the new companion should be a child no one would miss.