by Terry Persun
After eating her pan bread, Zimp sat with her legs stretched toward the Lorensak River as it licked at the pebbles in front of her. Not far from the shore the river current raged southward toward City Raldern, the economic center of Brendern. The water appeared to run smoothly, but Zimp knew that had she stepped several feet into the river from where she sat, the undercurrent would drag her violently down to a rocky bed and most likely drown her before delivering her downstream. That, she thought, was what Oro possessed. Even the thought of trying to maintain such a character exhausted her.
4
NEAR THE MOUTH OF THE LORENSAK RIVER, at the Brendern Eastlake spill, many tributaries spread over almost a mile of shallow swamp interrupted by mounds of dry dirt and stone outcroppings. Only one wagon got stuck while crossing the River. It took an hour of digging, shoving, and dragging to separate it from the bottom silt. Dozens of men and women lay on the ground around the wagon, resting for a moment. The sun blazed horizontally in the shimmering distance, still hot in the clear sky.
“We're ready,” Zimp alerted Oro.
Oro rolled to her side and glanced down at Zimp standing outside the wagon. “I don't like camping in the open. We need trees so that our guards can perch high and see far.”
“I'm sure Arren will feel the same way,” Zimp said.
“Arren has taken more than his share of command today,” Oro responded in anger. “Go and tell him that we will camp at the edge of Brendern Forest this evening if we have to travel several hours into the night to do so.”
Zimp jumped from the wagon. She knew where to find Arren. At the head of the caravan. Up the hill. Zimp pushed forward into a jog.
Arren must have seen her coming. He waved two of his brothers away as she approached. He stood firm.
“Oro said that we travel to the edge of Brendern Forest before we stop. Even if we travel through the dark.”
“I was just saying the same thing,” he said.
“You didn't send anyone to Oro?”
“Anyone would have made the same decision. I didn't need her approval for what was obvious.” A strained smile crossed his face.
“We camp when we reach the forest,” Zimp said before leaving.
A short distance from him, Zimp allowed her body to begin a shift. She knew that Arren's eyes stabbed her in the back as she stepped heavily downhill. She needed the lightness of her crow image. Focusing on change itself, Zimp kept her head up even as her legs shortened and the grass appeared to rise. She turned her hands out and arms up to catch the wind. She could sense her bones hollowing and contracting, her head thinning, and a beak growing outward from her nose and mouth. Then for just a moment before she left the security of the ground, Zimp heard a familiar voice.
“Tonight we dance,” Zora said.
Were the words coming from her head or from the wind? The last moment of a shift were often still, empty. The final metamorphosis from human to beast or beast to human could not be conceived on any level. When the Gods created the doublesight to remind humans and beasts of their grotesque interbreeding, there had to be a place of complete oneness with The Great Land. Fleeting as it was, that moment also reminded the doublesight of their connection to both human and beast, to the physical realm and the spirit realms. Zimp felt that euphoria at the exact moment she heard Zora's voice clearly dance into her mind. But a moment later, in full crow image, doubt set in. She couldn't dwell on the possibility. Too much human thought would cause her to shift back.
Zimp kept her human thoughts just behind her crow instinct. She recognized the humans below her, but did not place memories or emotions too closely with any of them. She glided over their heads for a moment longer, then lifted into the sky to get a clearer view of the distant lake. Making a great sweep around the wagons and people, Zimp turned from the sun and dived, homing in on her own wagon. Thinking momentarily that Oro would be there, Zimp glided while letting her entire body—legs, arms, torso, and head—change at once. She shifted and landed just outside the wagon.
“What are you thinking?” Jessant asked as he watched her land. He stood a short distance away getting into his wagon.
“There is no one around but our own scouts,” Zimp said.
“Did you see any of them?” Jessant wanted to know.
Zimp didn't answer.
“Did you forget what happened this morning? We are not safe if anyone knows we are doublesight.”
“We have already been found out,” she said.
Jessant shook his head and continued to climb into his wagon. His wife, Soonta, peered out the back of the wagon at Zimp for a moment and shook her head. Zimp knew that she disapproved of flagrant image changes in broad daylight and in the open.
The wagons proceeded away from the mouth of the Lorensak. The edge of the sun approached the horizon and the reflective mass of Brendern Eastlake. The wagons made long shadows across the grass. Brendern Forest treetops lifted into the sky several miles ahead of the clan.
Zimp didn't say anything to Oro about her unprotected shift. And now, she felt embarrassed about doing it so blatantly in front of Arren. Shifting was an intimate act. Even though the crow clan was tight-knit, traveled well together, and often shifted en masse, a single purposeful shift like the one she did was like stripping down in front of someone. That private act showed her arrogance, something she wasn't proud of. She lowered her head and peered out of the wagon.
Of the seven wagons, Oro's was in the center, the best protected. It was tethered to the wagon in front of it so that no driver was needed. Less than twenty-four hours ago, Zimp would have been arguing with her sister about something, or they would be laughing. Oro would be sleeping as she was now.
Zimp crawled along the carpet to her sister's cot, the closest to the front. She lay down and rolled onto her stomach. She smelled Zora and buried her head into the soft fabric of the rolled blanket. With a long sigh and a sad heart, Zimp allowed herself a moment of tears. Her sister had only crossed over into the next realm. She had not left The Great Land forever. Of all the people of the crow clan, Zimp knew this fact best. There were moments when Zimp spoke to her mother's spirit. She had heard Zora's voice twice already.
She could feel herself shifting, but not a physical shift from human to crow. This shift was less familiar and made her unsure of what she might do. She tried to relax into the feeling, but a sharp anxiety pulsed through her. Fear grew in her, but it was a familiar fear, even though she didn't recognize its origin. Zimp tried to open her senses and when she did, something was wrong. She sat up and crawled back to the bench at the rear of the wagon. “Something's wrong,” she whispered to her grandmother.
Oro stirred. “What is it?”
“I'm not sure. Should I go see?”
The wagon stopped.
“It looks as through you're about to,” Oro said.
Voices approached the wagon from the front of the caravan. Oro reached for Zimp, who helped her grandmother sit up. Three of the scouts came around the side of the wagon and stood just outside. Sunlight struck them from the side. Black hair drew in the light and created white streaks where the sun lay full on them. “Doublesight,” Zerran said. “We saw them coming from the edge of the lake toward Brendern Forest.”
“Are you sure?” Oro said.
Crepp spoke up. “We're pretty sure. There was a man and awoman along with a thylacine. That's not something you'd see too often.”
“Oh, to the Gods,” Zimp said. “I hate thylacines.”
“That is odd,” Oro said. “A thylacine would rip a human apart. Although I've heard of using thylacines for protection, I've never seen such a thing.”
“Arren suggested Zimp might come with us to make sure.” Zerran spoke with an unsure voice.
“Arren does not make those decisions,” Oro said.
Crepp said, “That's why we came here.”
Oro nodded in approval. She turned to Zimp.
“Should we fly?” Zimp asked, but Oro didn't have to answer
. In a moment Zimp perched at the edge of the wagon. Zerran, Crepp, and Storret all shifted at the side of the wagon and soon all four were in the air.
The caravan began to move again once Zimp and the scouts were on their way. Zerran led the group in haphazard twists and turns, depending on the updrafts and side winds. In the distance, Zimp saw three figures crouched down and slinking through the tall grass toward the forest. They didn't have packs or weapons, which appeared very odd. She forced from her mind the impulse to analyze her observation.
Zerran dipped toward the three strangers and circled around toward the edge of the forest.
Zimp followed and landed in the top of a tall evergreen. She could still see the two humans and the thylacine. The scouts took positions in other trees while Zimp hopped toward the tree trunk where she could shift without falling.
A slow shift was the most painful to execute. Being part human and part crow meant that bones were either expanding or contracting unnaturally. Zimp let one wing turn first and reached to hold onto the tree as the rest of her body grew and reshaped. To humans the change would look gruesome and frightening, but to other doublesight it could be a beautiful transformation.
As human, Zimp could focus more intensely. She made sure that she felt secure against the tree, then waited for the odd threesome to get closer. Zimp could see another being's ethereal body if she concentrated. Many doublesight and humans alike could see auras, but only the well trained or the intuitive could tell if there was a second shape just beyond the first. The ethereal body would not be that of a human.
Zimp breathed deeply the strong, sweet odor of the tree. Her small fingers pushed into the deep ridges of the bark. She relaxed into her senses. Her legs hung over a thin but safe branch high in the tree. She squinted her eyes and focused her attention at the edges of the body. The young man was tallest, so she stared in his direction. She instantly saw his aura, a mixture of green and brown, red streaks of anger coming from his heart chakra. She held to the image without trying to interpret what she saw. All he had to do was turn his head and there it was: the shadow of his ethereal beast image, moving slower than his human aura. It just glided into view.
At first, she saw only the shadow of his beast image, but with time and more movement the shape became clearer. He was a thylacine doublesight, all right. A shiver went up her spine. At least he was doublesight.
Next she tried to focus on the thylacine that walked with them, but couldn't even make out an aura with the tall grass in the way. So, she focused on the girl and found that she, too, was a doublesight.
Zimp shifted as quickly as she could without losing the sense of being human, which she held in check while in crow image. The others saw her take off toward the caravan over a small rise. Storret followed her, while Zerran and Crepp stayed at their posts.
In a moment, Zimp and Storret were at Oro's wagon with the news.
“What do you think happened? Why are they out without weapons or packs?” Zimp said.
“They are in danger,” Oro said. She turned for a moment and placed her hand to her head. Her lips moved but no sound came out.
Zimp and Storret waited.
When Oro turned back around, there were tears in her eyes.
“What is it?” Zimp asked.
“Great emotional pain,” Oro said.
“I know. There is a lot of healing going on. I noticed a green glow to his aura. But it was muddied in many places, blocking the healing,” Zimp said. “And there were deep red streaks of anger like lightning coming from his heart.”
“Take ten helpers. Stop them. Let them know that we are safe. They camp with us tonight.” Oro waved a hand to indicate that she was through and for Zimp to take care of the job.
“I'll let Arren know,” she said.
Oro snapped her fingers and pointed at Zimp. “You'll tell him what you are doing and you'll go. Arren is to continue on toward a campsite.”
“But I hate thylacines. They scare me.”
Oro looked her squarely in the eyes. “They are doublesight. You must welcome them to stay with our clan tonight. No other can do this but you.” Oro was finished.
Zimp turned to Storret and told him to gather eight others for the trip. She delivered Oro's message to Arren who jutted his chin but said nothing. He would obey.
When Zimp returned there were ten crows perched on the top of her wagon. She ducked into the wagon, kissed Oro on the cheek, and shifted in private. She flew from inside the wagon, out of the opening, and into the sky.
The sun was beginning to enter the lake.
5
THE TRIP FROM THE LOST, over Lake Ernwood, through the forest area of Dgosh, and southward into Brendern Forest had taken much longer than Lankor would have liked. Yet it wasn't often that he got to travel with his father, mother, and brother. Mianna acted as though the trip was the grandest time of their lives and doted over her sons while Rend navigated the journey, including the sailing trip across Lake Ernwood.
Rend kept the purpose of the journey secret, although Lankor caught him talking with Nayman from time to time and feared that a secret was brewing. And why would Nayman need to know information that Lankor didn't know? Why was his older brother favored, when it was Lankor who could run faster, fight more fiercely, and think more clearly?
Mianna reminded him one evening, before the final leg of their journey to the council compound of The Few, that both he and Nayman were special. “Your brother, you'll recall from the stories, saved your uncle's life. That is how his foot got crushed. And that is why your uncle chose to make the ultimate sacrifice and remain in beast image forever.”
Lankor hung his head and glanced over at Nayman and Rend who talked outside of camp, the firelight playing across their backs like spiders. “How might I be special?” he asked Mianna.
“You have great power,” Mianna said. “We all recognize that in you.”
“Then why is Father so hard on me?”
“Great power must be controlled by great strength. Rend has that strength and is imparting it to you. Some day you will have to control your strength alone.”
Lankor picked up a stick and threw it forcefully into the fire. Sparks scattered in every direction. The wood hissed. Coals leaped into the air.
Mianna jumped up. A hot coal landed on her arm and burned her skin to a dull red. Rend and Nayman turned and ran to her aid.
Rend checked his wife's hair and body for other embers.
Lankor brushed coals from his cloak and pants. Nayman shoved him away from the fire, then turned and brushed Mianna's clothes with his big hands.
“Don't shove me,” Lankor said, and came at his brother from behind to pull him around. Set in a fighting position, Lankor urged Nayman on by backing up slowly and weaving from side to side. He glanced to his right to locate his staff and sword, but Nayman didn't take the bait.
Rend stood with his arm around Mianna's shoulder. “Stop it. Your mother is fine. Now, what was that about?”
“Nothing,” Lankor said.
Rend looked to Mianna for an alternate response. She turned squarely to Lankor. “Learning to control his power,” she said. “He just found out what too much force for the situation feels like.”
Lankor tightened his lips and let his shoulders fall. A breeze pulled at his long hair. He said nothing. He just nodded and turned away from his mother's glare, toward the woods, and walked away. Behind him he heard Rend say to Nayman, “That is what I was talking about.”
So they had been talking about him. What other things did they say to one another? Did they discuss his temper? His recklessness? He could hear them now, mocking and laughing at him. But just because they were willing to stay trapped in the barren lands of The Lost didn't mean that he was willing to stay there as well. The doublesight council didn't frighten him. Nor did the hundreds of other doublesight clans. He knew the history. He knew their fear. So why did Rend and the rest of their clan go along with what The Few ordained?
L
ankor took a circuitous route through the woods and reentered the camp after an hour's walk. “I hate being boxed in,” he announced, waving his arms in a circle to indicate the trees that held space around them.
Rend glanced up and shook his head in dismissal. He, Mianna, and Nayman sat around the fire, keeping the moist, cool night air from them. “We are late getting to the council,” Rend said. “As soon as we arrive, the council will meet with The Few, and we'll be back on our way home.”
“I wish to go home now,” Lankor said. “Somewhere I can stand on a hill and see for miles, not in this Godless canyon of greenery.”
“I thought you wanted adventure, travel,” Rend said.
“Not here. I want to go to Sclan, where we once reigned.”
“The Sclan Dynasty is over. Ruins lay where castles were built. King and Queen Deetem rule over a handful of fishing villages, nothing more,” Rend said.
“You never want to return? To rebuild our ancestors’ homes?” Lankor asked.
“No,” Rend said. He looked at Mianna for approval and received it.
Nayman stood. The movement stilled the conversation. “I have slowed everyone down. It's my fault we're late.”
“We all knew what time it would take. We started out late and we'll arrive late,” Rend said. “We have the farthest to journey. The Few are well aware of that fact.”
“Why couldn't we shift and fly there?” Lankor said.
Rend turned on his son. “Would you like to be crucified before we arrive? Would you like to have someone in one of the small towns we've passed send men to The Lost and hunt us down?” He waited for an answer, and when none came he said, “We stay human as long as we can.” He nodded to himself, and Mianna nodded in response even though not asked to do so.