The Oracle's Queen Read online

  Praise for

  The Fantastic Novels of Lynn Flewelling

  Hidden Warrior

  “Stellar high-concept fantasy.”

  —Mysterious Galaxy

  “A rousing prince-in-hiding adventure, with some unexpectedly satisfying developments for a middle volume in a series.”

  —Locus

  “A beautiful, compelling, dark tale.”

  —Booklist

  “A superlative job … the world she has built is complex, and the action non-stop.… Flewelling handles the gender questions with such skill that the reader really feels Tobin’s ambivalence, and gradual change.… Recommended highly for anyone seeking a rollicking good read.”

  —SF Site

  “Satisfying … intriguing … exploring not merely issues of gender and power but questions of honor as well.”

  —Lambda Book Report

  “Lynn Flewelling doesn’t disappoint.… Questions of obligation and independence have no easy answers for anyone in this maze, adding a welcome depth to the tale.”

  —Alien Online

  The Bone Doll’s Twin

  “The Bone Doll’s Twin is a thoroughly engrossing new fantasy. It got its hooks into me on the first page, and didn’t let loose until the last. I am already looking forward to the next installment.”

  —GEORGE R. R. MARTIN

  “Lynn Flewelling’s The Bone Doll’s Twin outshines even the gleaming promise shown in her earlier three books. The story pulled me under and carried me off with it in a relentless tale that examines whether the ends can ever completely justify the means.”

  —ROBIN HOBB

  “Fresh and original—and unlike most fantasies that try to put women in traditionally male roles, hers works. I found the world exceptionally well realized and coherent. I think you have a winner here! My congratulations to Lynn. Books like this are too good not to share.”

  —KATHERINE KURTZ

  “The Bone Doll’s Twin is a great read. Lynn Flewelling has outdone herself with this vibrant tale of dark magic, a hidden child, and the demon ghost that haunts it. She builds a convincing, colorful world with carefully chosen details, and her characters are memorable because their dilemmas are vividly drawn and heartbreakingly believable. This is exactly the kind of fantasy novel that will keep you up long past your bedtime.”

  —KATE ELLIOTT

  “A fascinating read, both intellectual and haunting.”

  —BARBARA HAMBLY

  “A dark and twisting enchantment of a book, a story of deception and loyalty and heroism that will magick its readers along with its characters.”

  —LOUISE MARLEY

  “Lynn Flewelling is one of the best at creating complicated stories peopled by diverse characters, each with his own agenda, and each absolutely believable. This tale of a girl disguised by magic and brought up as a boy is engrossing and compelling as it explores the honorable reasons behind dishonorable deeds—and the dark consequences that follow a single desperate act. Flewelling accompanies her skill at storytelling with an exquisite level of detail that brings her entire world to life. A most satisfying tale for readers already familiar with her Nightrunner series—for others, an excellent introduction to the joys of a Flewelling fantasy.”

  —SHARON SHINN

  “You liked Lynn Flewelling’s Nightrunner series? This novel is even better. The Bone Doll’s Twin is a sharply honed, powerful story where good and evil are as entwined as two children’s lives, and salvation carries a very high price. Highly recommended.”

  —ANNE BISHOP

  “An intriguing prequel to Flewelling’s splendid Nightrunner series and a solid beginning to a new triad of fantasy from a most generous and skilled fantasist, The Bone Doll’s Twin will satisfy old fans and capture many new.”

  —PATRICK O’LEARY

  “Masterful.… readers will be hooked.”

  —Bangor Daily News

  “Magnificent, impressive … capture[s] some of the same flavor found in T. H. White’s classic, The Once and Future King, as well as in Ursula Le Guin’s Earthsea books. Factor in some essence of Mervyn Peake, and you have a winning combination.”

  —Realms of Fantasy

  “Flewelling’s Nightrunner books are popular among fantasy fans for a very simple reason—they’re good. The Bone Doll’s Twin continues that trend, and I look for her to be a major force in the future of fantasy.”

  —Monroe News-Star

  “An intensely poignant tale that begs the question—how far should one go to change destiny. Lynn Flewelling delivers a tightly crafted narrative with vivid characters and a detailed background that quickly pulls the reader into her world.”

  —Romantic Times

  “It is the death of children that literally haunts this book, giving it a dark edge that takes The Bone Doll’s Twin out of the realm of fantasy and into the world of amoral, ends-justifies-the-means politics.… Most of the characters are presented as people trying to do the right thing, and being caught up in events that leave them questioning just what the right thing to do is.… Flewelling’s storytelling ability and strong prose make it all work.… It’s a gripping beginning to a story that looks to become even deeper, more complex, more political, and more real as the series goes on.”

  —New York Review of Science Fiction

  “Flewelling is the best thing that could have happened to the fantasy genre.”

  —BookWeb

  “Every now and then a book reminds me of why I originally started reading fantasy. The Bone Doll’s Twin … has the buzz. It’s original, well written, and totally absorbing … by turns poignant, spooky, and earthy.… A moving and thoroughly recommended read.”

  —Starburst

  “This terrific tale is dark and exciting, and the magic in it is truly wonderful.”

  —Booklist

  Praise for the Nightrunner Series

  Luck in the Shadows

  “Memorable characters, an enthralling plot and truly daunting evil … The characters spring forth from the page not as well-crafted creations but as people … the magic is refreshingly difficult, mysterious, and unpredictable. Lynn Flewelling has eschewed the easy shortcuts of clichéd minor characters and cookie-cutter backdrops to present a unique world.… I commend this one to your attention.”

  —ROBIN HOBB

  “Part high fantasy and part political intrigue, Luck in the Shadows makes a nice change from the usual ruck of contemporary sword-and-sorcery. I especially enjoyed Lynn Flewelling’s obvious affection for her characters. At unexpected moments she reveals a well-honed gift for the macabre.”

  —STEPHEN R. DONALDSON

  “A new star is rising in the fantasy firmament.… I am awed by the scope of the intricate world … it teems with magic and bustles with realistic people and spine-chilling amounts of skullduggery.”

  —DAVE DUNCAN

  “A splendid read, filled with magic, mystery, adventure, and taut suspense. Lynn Flewelling, bravo! Nicely done.”

  —DENNIS L. MCKIERNAN

  “An engrossing and entertaining debut … full of magic, intrigues, and fascinating characters. Witty and charming, it’s the kind of book you settle down with when you want a long, satisfying read.”

  —MICHAEL A. STACKPOLE

  “Exceptionally well done and entertaining.”

  —Locus

  “Lynn Flewelling has written a terrific first novel, a thrilling introduction to this series.… Highly recommended.”

  —Starlog

  Stalking Darkness

  “Flewelling is … bringing vigor back to the traditional fantasy form. In this highly engaging adventure novel, the most powerful magic is conjured out of friendship and loyalty. The author has a gift for creating
characters you genuinely care about.”

  —TERRI WINDLING,

  The Years’s Best Fantasy and Horror,

  Eleventh Annual Collection

  “Events move forward in this second adventure … it’s up to four companions to stop Mardus’s schemes. Things get very violent and there’s also a strong emotional undercurrent … an amusing twist on the old ‘damsel in distress’ scenario.”

  —Locus

  “While fans … will find enough wizardry, necromancy, swords, daggers, and devilishly clever traps here to satisfy the most avid, this book also provides entry to a complete and richly realized world that will please more mainstream readers.”

  —Bangor Daily News

  Traitor’s Moon

  “What most fantasy aspires to Traitor’s Moon achieves, with fierce craft, wit, and heart. It is a fantasy feast—richly imagined, gracefully wrought, and thrilling to behold. An intoxicating brew of strange and homely, horror and whimsy, lust and blood, intrigue and honor, great battles and greater loves. It is a journey through a world so strange and real you can taste it, with companions so mysterious and memorable you won’t forget it. Lynn Flewelling is a fine teller of tales who delivers all she promises, cuts no corners, and leaves us dazzled, moved, and hungry for more. Traitor’s Moon is a wonderful book.”

  —PATRICK O’LEARY

  By Lynn Flewelling

  Luck in the Shadows

  Stalking Darkness

  Traitor’s Moon

  The Bone Doll’s Twin

  Hidden Warrior

  The Oracle’s Queen

  Shadows Return

  The White Road

  THE ORACLE’S QUEEN

  A Bantam Spectra Book / July 2006

  Published by Bantam Dell

  A Division of Random House, Inc.

  New York, New York

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved

  Copyright © 2006 by Lynn Flewelling

  Bantam Books, the rooster colophon, Spectra, and the portrayal of a boxed “s” are trademarks of Random House, Inc.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-48915-9

  www.bantamdell.com

  v3.1

  For Patricia York

  August 14, 1949–May 21, 2005

  Wish you were here to see how this one ended. Thanks for always reminding me “it’s not the number of breaths we take, but the number of moments that take our breath away.”

  Catch you later, my good, dear friend.

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks, first and foremost to Dr. Doug, my main Muse and best friend. Also to Pat York, Anne Groell, Lucienne Diver, Matthew and Timothy Flewelling, Nancy Jeffers, Dr. Meghan Cope, and Bonnie Blanch for all their helpful feedback and patience, and to all the readers who’ve given me such great support over the years.

  Contents

  Cover

  Other Books by This Author

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Map

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Chapter 1

  The cold night breeze shifted, blowing stinging smoke from old Teolin’s campfire into Mahti’s eyes. The young witch blinked it away, but remained squatting motionless, his bearskin cloak pulled around him like a little hut. It was bad luck to fidget during this last crucial step of the making.

  The old witch hummed happily as he heated his knife again and again, using the tip and edge to incise the rings of dark, intricate patterns that now covered most of the long wooden tube. Teolin was ancient. His wrinkled brown skin hung on his skinny frame like old cloth and his bones showed through. The witch marks on his face and body were hard to read, distorted by the ravages of time. His hair hung over his shoulders in a thin tangle of yellowed strands. Years of making had left his blunt, knobby fingers stained black, but they were as nimble as ever.

  Mahti’s last oo’lu had cracked one cold night this past midwinter, after he’d played out an elder’s gallstones. It had taken months of searching to find the right kind of bildi branch to make a new one. Bildi trees weren’t scarce, but you had to find a sapling trunk or large branch that had been ant-hollowed, and the right size to give a good tone. “High as your chin, and four fingers broad”; so he’d been taught and so it was.

  He’d found plenty of flawed branches in the hills around his village: knotted ones, cracked ones, others with holes eaten out through the side. The large black ants that followed the rising sap through the heartwood were industrious but undiscerning craftsmen.

  He’d finally found one, and cut his horn stave from it. But it was bad luck for a witch to make his own instrument, even if he had the skill. Each must be earned and given from the hand of another. So he’d strapped it to his back over his bearskin cloak and snowshoed for three days and nights to bring it to Teolin.

  The old man was the best oo’lu maker in the eastern hills. Witch men had been coming to him for three generations and he turned away more than he accepted.

  It took weeks to make an oo’lu. During this time it was Mahti’s job to chop wood, cook food, and generally make himself useful while Teolin worked.

  Teolin first stripped the bark and used live coals to burn out the last of the ants’ leavings. When the stave was fully hollowed he went out of earshot to test the tone. Satisfied, he and Mahti rested and traded spells for a week while the hollow branch hung drying in the rafters near the smoke hole of Teolin’s hut.

  It dried without warping or cracking. Teolin sawed the ends square and rubbed beeswax into the wood until it gleamed. Then they’d waited two more days for the full moon.

  Tonight was the sit-still.

  That afternoon Mahti had scraped away the snow in front of the hut and dragged out an old lion skin for Teolin to sit on. He laid a large fire, with more wood stacked within easy reach, and hunkered down to tend it.

  Teolin sat down wrapped in his moth-eaten bearskin and set to work. Using a heated iron knife, he etched the rings of magic onto the wood. Mahti watched with rapt attention as he fed the fire, marveling at how the designs seemed to flow from the tip of the blade, like ink onto deerskin. He wondered if it would come so easily to him, when the time came for him to make oo’lus for others?

&nb
sp; Now the Mother’s full white face was high overhead and Mahti’s ankles ached from squatting, but the oo’lu was nearly done.

  When the last of the rings was complete, Teolin dipped the mouth end in a little pot of melted wax, then rolled a softened lump of it into a thin coil and pressed it in a ring to the waxed end of the horn. He squinted across at Mahti, gauging the size of his mouth, and pinched the wax in until the opening was about two thumbs wide.

  Satisfied at last, he gave Mahti a toothless grin. “Ready to learn this one’s name?”

  Mahti’s heart beat faster as he stood and stretched the stiffness from his legs. His last oo’lu, Moon Plow, had served him seven years. In that time he’d become a man and a healer. Honoring the Moon Plow mark, he’d planted many fine children in women’s bellies at Mother Shek’met’s festivals. His sons and daughters were scattered through three valleys and some of the oldest were already showing witch’s talent.

  When Moon Plow cracked, this cycle of his life ended. He was twenty-three summers old, and his next future was about to be revealed.

  Drawing his own knife, he cut his right palm and held it over the mouth of the oo’lu as Teolin held it. A few drops of his blood fell inside it as he sang the claiming spell. The black tracery of witch marks across his face, arms, and chest tickled like spider feet. When he thrust his hand into the fire, he didn’t feel the heat of it. Straightening, he moved to the far side of the fire and faced the old man. “I’m ready.”

  Teolin held the oo’lu upright and chanted the blessing, then tossed it across to Mahti.

  He caught it awkwardly in his fire hand, gripping it well below the center. Even hollow, it was a heavy thing. It nearly overbalanced, and if it had fallen, he’d have had to burn it and start all over again. But he managed to hang on to it, gritting his teeth until the witch marks faded completely from sight on his arms. He took the horn in his left hand and inspected it. The shiny black print of his fire hand was branded into the wood.

  Teolin took it back and carefully examined how the marks of Mahti’s splayed fingers intersected the carved designs. He was a long time at it, humming and sucking his gums.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Mahti. “Is it a bad luck cycle?”