The Bone Doll's Twin Read Free Page B

land. You were just a babe when King Erius tore them all down.” Iya dismounted and touched the stone reverently. It was hot under her palm, and still as smooth as the day it had left the stonecutter’s shop. “Even Erius didn’t dare touch this one.”
    “Why not?”
    “When he sent word for it to be removed, the priests refused. To force the issue meant invading Afra itself, the most sacred ground in Skala. So Erius graciously relented and contented himself with having all the others dumped into the sea. There was also a golden tablet bearing the inscription in the throne room at the Old Palace. I wonder what happened to that?”
    But the younger wizard had more immediate concerns. Shading his eyes, he studied the cliff face. “Where’s the Oracle’s shrine?”
    “Further up the valley. Drink deeply here. We must walk the rest of the way.”
    L eaving their mounts at the inn, they followed a well-worn path deeper into the cleft. The way became steeper and more difficult as they went. There were no trees to shade them, no moisture to lay the white dust that hung on the hot midday air. Soon the way dwindled to a faint track winding up between boulders and over rock faces worn smooth and treacherous by centuries of pilgrim’s feet.
    They met two other groups of seekers coming in the opposite direction. Several young soldiers were laughing and talking bravely, all but one young man who hung back from his fellows with the fear of death clear in his eyes. The second group clustered around an elderly merchant woman who wept silently as the younger members of her party helped her along.
    Arkoniel eyed them nervously. Iya waited until themerchant’s party had disappeared around a bend, then sat down on a rock to rest. The way here was hardly wide enough for two people to pass and held the heat like an oven. She took a sip from the skin Arkoniel had filled at the spring. The water was still cold enough to make her eyes ache.
    “Is it much further?” he asked.
    “Just a little way.” Promising herself a cool bath at the inn, Iya stood and continued on.
    “You knew the king’s mother, didn’t you?” Arkoniel said, scrambling along behind her. “Was she as bad as they say?”
    The stele must have gotten him thinking. “Not at first. Agnalain the Just, they called her. But she had a dark streak in her that worsened with age. Some say it came from her father’s blood. Others said it was because of the trouble she had with childbearing. Her first consort gave her two sons. Then she seemed to go barren for years and gradually developed a taste for young consorts and public executions. Erius’ own father went to the block for treason. After that no one was safe. By the Four, I can still remember the stink of the crow cages lining the roads around Ero! We all hoped she’d improve when she finally had a daughter, but she didn’t. It only made her worse.”
    It had been easy enough in those black days for Agnalain’s eldest son, Prince Erius—already a seasoned warrior and the people’s darling—to argue that the Oracle’s words had been twisted, that the prophecy had referred only to King Thelátimos’ actual daughter, not to a matrilineal line of succession. Surely brave Prince Erius was better suited to the throne than the only direct female heir; his half-sister Ariani was just past her seventh birthday.
    Never mind the fact that Skala had enjoyed unparalleled prosperity under her queens, or that the only other man to take the throne, Ghërilain’s own son, Pelis, had brought on both plague and drought during his brief reign. Only when his sister had replaced him on thethrone had Illior protected the land again as the Oracle had promised. Until now.
    When Agnalain died so suddenly, it was whispered that Prince Erius and his brother, Aron, had had a hand in it. But the rumor had been whispered with relief rather than condemnation; everyone knew Erius had ruled in all but name during the last terrible years of