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.
Yes, he’d meant to keep that vow and kill Ki, but his heart had betrayed him and marred the spell; he’d tried to change it to a blinding at the last moment and instead released an unfocused blast that had knocked Ki through the air as if he weighed no more than a handful of chaff. It would have killed him if Lhel hadn’t been there to coax his heart back to life. She’d claimed to take away whatever memories Ki might have had of seeing Tobin, too, weaving in their place vague memories of illness. If Arkoniel and Iya had only known such a thing were possible …
If only they hadn’t been too arrogant to ask.
Glad as he was that Ki lived, Arkoniel could not escape the truth; he’d failed in his duty by not killing Ki, just as he’d betrayed the boy by trying.
For years he’d told himself he was different than Iya and Lhel. Now it seemed his supposed compassion was instead simply weakness.
Ashamed, he slipped away to his lonely chamber, leaving the two innocents to a peace he might never know again.
Ki was still too weak and dizzy to get up the next day, so Cook served Tobin’s belated name day cakes to them in the sickroom. Everyone crowded in and ate their portion standing. Nari presented Tobin with a new sweater and stockings she’d knitted, and Koni, their fletcher, gave him six fine new arrows. Laris had carved bone hunting whistles for him and Ki and Arkoniel shyly offered him a special pouch for carrying firechips.
“I’m afraid my gift for you is still in Ero,” Tharin told him.
“And mine,” said Ki around a mouthful of cake. His head was still mending but his appetite had recovered.
For the first time in a long time things began to feel safe and normal again. Tobin’s heart swelled as he looked around at the others laughing and talking. Except for Iya’s presence, it could have been any name day party he’d ever had.
By the next day Ki was well enough to be restless, but Nari wouldn’t hear of letting him out of the sickroom. He sulked and complained so much that she took his clothes away with her, just in case.
As soon as she was gone Ki climbed out of bed and wrapped himself in a blanket.
“There, at least I’m up,” he muttered. After a moment he began to feel sick again, but wouldn’t admit that Nari had been right. Fighting down nausea, he insisted on playing bakshi. After a few tosses, however, he began to see two of everything and let Tobin help him back into bed.
“Don’t tell her, will you?” he pleaded, closing his eyes. Trying to make the two Tobins frowning down at him join back into one made his head hurt.
“I