“No, Tobin. Lhel told her to make the doll. It was the only way to control Brother after—after he died. Lhel helped her, and set the magic on it to hold him. It may have given your mother some comfort but it wasn’t love.”
“You weren’t there! You didn’t see how she was. It was always him. She never wanted me.”
A look of genuine pain crossed Arkoniel’s face. “Oh, Tobin. It wasn’t your fault or hers, how things were.”
“Whose, then? Why did she treat me like that, just because he was stillborn?”
Arkoniel started to speak, then turned away. Tobin caught him by the sleeve. “What is it?”
“Nothing. It’s all in the past. Right now you must get to Atyion. It would be safest to reveal yourself there.”
“But how? Lhel’s not here to undo the binding.”
“She taught me. It’s actually quite simple. Cut the cord she made of your hair that’s around the doll’s neck, take Brother’s bones out of it, then cut out the piece of bone she sewed into your skin.”
“That’s all?” Tobin exclaimed softly. “But I could have done that anytime!”
“Yes, and if you’d known, you might have too soon and brought us all to ruin.”
“I wouldn’t have! I never wanted to. I don’t want to now.” Tobin hugged himself unhappily. “I’m scared, Arkoniel. What if—” He looked back at Ki and the others. “What will they do?”
“We should be moving on,” Tharin called.
“A moment, please,” Arkoniel told him. “It’s time you told Ki. It’s only fair, and you need him steady at your side.”
“Now?”
“I’ll do it, if you like.”
“No, he should hear it from me. And Lynx?”
“Yes, tell them both.”
Tobin started slowly back to Ki. He’d been tempted a hundred times over to just blurt it all out, but now fear choked him.
What if Ki hated him? And what about Korin and the other Companions? What if the people of Atyion refused to believe, refused to follow him?
“Courage, Tobin,” Arkoniel whispered. “Trust Illior’s will. For Skala!”
“For Skala,” Tobin mumbled.
“What’s wrong?” Ki asked before Tobin had said a word. “Is there bad news?”
“There’s something I have to say, and I don’t know how, except to just say it.”
Tobin took a deep breath, feeling like he was on that cliff in his dreams, about to fall. “I’m not what you think. When you look at me, it’s not me you’re seeing. It’s Brother.”
“Who?” asked Lynx, looking at Tobin as if he’d lost his mind. “Tobin, you don’t have a brother.”
“Yes, I do. Or I did. He’s the demon you’ve heard about, only he’s really just a ghost. It wasn’t a girl child who died; it was him. I was the girl, and a witch changed me to look like him right after I was born.”
“Lhel?” Ki’s voice was barely a whisper.
Tobin nodded, trying to read his friend’s expression in the starlight. He couldn’t and that scared him even more.
“You all know the rumors about the king,” said Arkoniel. “That he kills all female heirs to protect his own claim and line. They’re not just rumors. It’s the truth. The Oracle at Afra warned my mistress, and told her that we must protect Tobin until she’s old enough to rule. This is how we did it.”
“No!” Ki gasped. He backed away. “No, I don’t believe it. I know you! I’ve seen you! You’re no more a girl than I am!”
I didn’t know either, not at first! Tobin wanted to tell him, but his mouth wouldn’t form the words because Ki was still moving away from him.
“I was there that night, Ki,” Arkoniel told him. “I’ve devoted my whole life to keeping the secret until now. None of us had any choice, especially not Tobin. But now it’s time for her true form to be revealed. Skala must have a queen, one of the true line.”
“Queen?” Ki turned and ran for the barn.
“I’ll speak with him,” said Tharin. “Please, Tobin, let me do this. For both your sakes.”
Tobin nodded, miserable, and Tharin strode away after Ki.
Lynx came closer, looking into Tobin’s face. “This is really true? I mean—I’ve seen you, too, in the baths and swimming.”
Tobin shrugged.
“Tobin didn’t know about any of this either, until a few years ago,” Arkoniel explained. “It won’t be easy, what’s to come. It means going against Erius and Korin, too. Tobin will need true friends.”
“You’ll be queen?” Lynx said, as if he hadn’t heard.
“Somehow. But Lynx, you’re a Companion. You’ve known Korin longer than I have.” The words felt like sand in Tobin’s mouth. “If you can’t do this—I’ll understand.”
“You’re free to go back to Ero now, if you wish,” said Arkoniel.
“Go back? I never meant to go back. Tharin was right about me before, Tobin, so I might as well stay.” He let out a mirthless little laugh and held out his hand. “That’s not much of an oath, is it?”
Tobin clasped hands with him. “It’s enough for me.”
Tharin found Ki standing just inside the barn door, arms limp at his sides. “Why didn’t he tell me?” he asked, voice leaden with grief.
Tharin fought hard to rein in his anger. He’d expected better of Ki than this. “He had no idea when you first met him.”
“When, then?”
“That time he ran away to the keep. Iya and that witch woman made him swear not to tell. It’s a heavy burden he’s had to bear, Ki; one you and I can’t even imagine.”
“You knew!”
“Not until a few weeks ago. Rhius didn’t tell me, either, but it wasn’t because he didn’t trust me. It was for Tobin’s sake, and safety. It has nothing to do with us.”
“What happens to me now?”
“What do you mean? Are you telling me you’ll serve a prince but not a queen?”
“Serve?” Ki whirled around to face him. “Tharin, he’s my best friend. He—he’s everything to me! We’ve grown up together, trained and fought together. Together! But queens don’t have squires, do they? They have ministers, generals, consorts. I’m none of that.” He threw up his hands. “I’m nothing! Just the grass knight son of a horse thief—”
Tharin backhanded him so hard Ki staggered. “Is that all you’ve learned, after all these years?” he growled, standing over the cowering boy. “Do you think a wizard like Iya would choose you for no reason? Would Rhius bind you to his son if you were no more than that? Would I trust you with that child’s life? A man can’t choose his father, Ki, but he chooses his path. I thought you’d let go of all that foolishness.” It was an effort to not slap him again. “Is this what I taught you? To run off sniveling in the dark?”
“No.” Ki’s voice quavered but he straightened to attention. Blood ran down from his nose and caught in the sparse hair on his lip. “I’m sorry, Tharin.”
“Listen to me, Ki. Tobin doesn’t have the first notion of what’s ahead of him. All he can think of is that his friends will turn away from him. That you’ll turn away. He fears that more than anything else. And that’s precisely what you did just now, isn’t it?”
Ki groaned aloud. “Bilairy’s balls! He thinks—? Oh, hell, Tharin, that’s not why I ran!”
“Then I guess you’d better get back there and tell him that.” Tharin stepped aside and Ki bolted out, back to Tobin. Tharin stayed where he was, waiting for a sudden fit of trembling to pass. His hand stung where he’d hit Ki; he could feel the boy’s blood on his fingers. He stifled an anguished curse as he wiped his hand on his coat. Divine will or not, it was a hard road that had been set for all of them, all those years ago.
Ki couldn’t have been gone for more than a few minutes, but it seemed like forever to Tobin before he came striding back from the barn alone. Walking straight up to Tobin, Ki hugged him hard, then knelt and offered his sword.