by Terry Persun
“Lankor is my name. I come from The Lost.”
The two doublesight bears laughed for a long while, then stopped. “You do not look as though you could last a month in The Lost,” Mammadoon said. “Not that I've ever been there, but I've heard it is a wasteland, an empty place left barren and cold after the Sclan wars.”
“It has changed.”
“Well, it must have.” Mammadoon took another step toward Lankor. “To answer your other question, we do not know what beast image you are. Neither your aura nor your etheric body shifted while you were dreaming. We saw in them that you were not entirely human. That is easy to do in dreamtime. But unless you shift while you are there,” he shrugged his shoulders, “we wouldn't know.”
“I shall remember that when I dream.”
“Enough talk,” Mammadeen said. “You probably wish to get back to your family.” He led the way back through the clearing. His brother stepped up and closed in next to him.
Lankor, so he didn't get left behind, followed.
Twenty feet outside the clearing a few fireflies still blinked. Lankor kept his distance to the brothers.
“Your mistrust of us is exhausting, brother Lankor. We truly mean you no harm and you were never in any harm with those insects, for sure. Fireflies are the blessed sparks that flew from the fingers of the Gods while they were creating the beasts of The Great Land. We like to think they are the closest to our own creation since we have a light into multiple worlds,” Mammadoon said. He stood smiling at Lankor. “Down there, about fifty steps.” Mammadoon dropped to the ground behind a bush and leaped out as a black bear. Mammadeen dropped behind his brother and shifted as well. They both made a honk-like barking sound toward Lankor, then ran off into the woods.
Lankor hurried through the woods where they had indicated for him to go, and practically rushed into the camp in his haste. He stopped short, but noticed something wasn't quite right. Fear struck him for the second time that evening.
“Were you lost?” Rend said.
Lankor turned to him. “I ran into some doublesight. Bears.”
“I heard nothing.”
“Back there,” Lankor pointed into the darkness. “They were strange. They said something about dreamtime.”
Rend placed a hand on the back of Lankor's neck. “Bears, eh? Dreamtime… Well, if you truly met with bear doublesight, I suppose dreamtime is as good a place as any.”
“No, you don't understand. I was staring at these blinking bugs and getting caught in their magical ways. They were like embers of a fire floating through the air. I slipped into a dream for only a moment, then ran away. The bears said I called them. They led me back here.” Lankor felt his father's grip tighten. “Were they intuitives?”
“There are many varieties of intuitive doublesight. Bears live much of their lives in a space between worlds. They call it dreamtime. I don't know much about bears, but I've heard that they can change your dreams while they are in there. I've heard that they can play with your soul.” Rend pulled his son closer to the fire. “I'm not so sure I trust having bears this close to our camp. Mianna I know is strong enough to hold onto her own dreams and not let them be manipulated.”
“But Nayman,” Lankor said, “and me?”
“Sit by the fire, son. Recall your trip, our destination. You'll be fine. It sounds as though they were being helpful. Let us rise early and move on.”
14
AFTER THE FLANDEANS PASSED through camp, Zimp approached Arren. “Did you learn where they are going? They weren't heading toward Brok and Breel's cabin, were they? Suspicions might rise quickly if that were to happen.”
Arren pointed to where the Flandeans had exited the camp. “They went northwest. They're Flandean Guard, so it doesn't matter what they say. Even that direction is most likely a false lead.”
“Did you learn anything from them that might be reliable?” she asked.
He gazed at her out the corner of his eyes. “I got the sense that they have not been together during their entire trip. It's like they came together recently to follow some mission together. One of them wore a wristband that looked like it was made in City Raldern. That's quite a bit south.”
“What gave you the sense?”
“I am crow clan too, young Zimp. I trust my feelings, as dark as they might seem to you.” Arren lifted the wristband from the pouch he carried on his belt. He turned it in front of Zimp. “Care to hold it for a moment?”
Against her feelings toward Arren, Zimp had to laugh. “You stole it?”
Arren softened too. “What else would I do? I'm surprised that you didn't steal it. Or that ulexite ring the pregnant one wore.”
“I didn't want them coming back or following us.” She pulled the wristband from Arren's fingers. “Something you didn't think of.” Zimp closed her eyes, but her pulse rushed too full and with too much power for her to get any image from the piece. “Let's see what Oro gets.”
Arren snapped it back from her. “We'll go together. How is the heart-eater doing, anyway?”
“He's fine. Let's be careful with our language though. They are in our care for now.”
“For now,” Arren agreed.
At the wagon, Arren presented the wristband to Oro. Brok rested against Zimp's bed.
“You said they were from Flande? Guardsmen?” Oro said.
“That's what they claimed,” Arren said.
Oro held the wristband and closed her eyes for only a moment. “I don't like the feel of this. Who wore it?”
“The man with the two sons. I forget his name,” Arren said.
Oro waved him off. “Get the others. We need to know the man's name.” Once Arren was out of view, Oro leaned toward Zimp. “You must begin to take charge. We don't want the Flandean Guard to come looking for this thing. And if they do return, I wouldn't want them looking to Arren for answers.”
“Yes, Grandmother.” Zimp leaned against the wagon. She lowered her eyes.
The old woman ignored Zimp's reaction, and closed her eyes again. She cupped the wristband in both hands. “I see many deaths, many people killed.” She took a breath. “And many lives saved.” Oro opened her eyes and studied the wristband. “Fairly new. From City Raldern. A lot has happened since this wristband was purchased. Many miles have been traversed.”
“Should we be concerned they might return?” Zimp asked.
“I don't know. Unless this was stolen from the body of a dead man, the bearer of this wristband is a powerful warrior,” Oro said.
“That's hard to believe. Whatever his name, the man was small in build, not the powerful warrior type,” Zimp said.
In a groggy voice, Brok said, “Never underestimate a man or woman's power. Passion and energy have more to do with battle than raw strength.”
Oro smiled. “Smart man. You should listen to him,” she said to Zimp.
“Learned it from my father. His strength grew like magic when he needed it. An amazing thing to witness,” Brok said.
“And he is a part of you now, young Brok. You must never forget that. Fremlin is a great man, even now.”
Zimp was struck by the kindness Oro extended to Brok. She obviously knew of the details of the ceremony, and was comfortable with them. Perhaps the mixture of cultures among the doublesight at the council had much to do with Oro's knowledge of the world and herself. Nothing seemed to bother her. That is, except Zimp's reluctance to lead.
“Raik,” Arren said, jogging toward the wagon. “The man's name was Raik. Breel remembered. And I have to say that she's rather creepy.”
“That's my sister,” Brok said.
“Sorry. There's just something about her,” Arren said.
“I like her,” Zimp said.
“Is this necessary conversation?” Oro demanded. “Let us leave. The ceremony is complete and we need to reach the council grounds by nightfall.” She looked at Zimp and Arren. “Go!”
Noot drove Oro and Zimp's wagon. Brok lay across Zimp's bed and Breel sat next to
Zimp on the floor. The thylacine doublesight had her arm on the bed near her brother's leg, her head resting on her arm, her body turned away from Zimp. She slept much of the day in that awkward position.
Zimp let her head fall back against Brok only once. She felt the man's solid arm under the back of her head and jerked upright. There was something about the energy that came from Brok that annoyed her. Perhaps it was the same energy Brok spoke about when he talked about Fremlin. Magical. She knew that magic came in many forms.
Zimp could still see the ceremony in detail in her mind. Shepushed the images aside and tried to imagine what the council grounds would be like. She had never been there, but had heard stories from Oro for years. Even when Zimp's mother and father were alive, Oro would sit and tell Zimp and Zora stories about the doublesight.
The road through the Brendern Forest thinned out in places, but there was always space for the wagons to pass. Branches laden with leaves or needles scratched across the canvas. Noot kissed and clicked to the horses, and used the whip only when needed. The traveling was smoother in the woods than it had been through the plains. The air temperature dipped colder, though, and Zimp missed the warm sun. She suspected that the thylacines enjoyed the cool air of the forest since that was their home.
She lifted up and could see that Therin pranced behind the wagon like an obedient dog. She had to remember that if they passed anyone on the road, to have him hide from view. Having a thylacine pet would appear strange to anyone. She should have been more sensitive to that when she went out to meet with the Flandeans. She glanced over at Oro, eyes wide, staring into the dim light passing through the canvas cover. Zimp wondered what Oro thought about. “Teach me,” she whispered to Oro, to the air inside the wagon, to Zora, or any entity who might be listening at the time.
Oro turned her head to peer directly into Zimp's eyes. “What angers me is that you already know and will not listen.”
“But I don't know anything. I seldom listened when Zora attended training.”
“Zora attended nothing you did not attend. She asked about spells. She asked how to make certain candles,” Oro said.
“Candles are simple to make.”
“For you.” Oro breathed deeply and reached out to take Zimp's hand. “Tell me, child, what plant could I use to have stopped Brok's bleeding sooner?”
“I don't…”
“You know. Now tell me. What is the first stalk or leaf you saw in your mind, even as I spoke the words? Before the words left my mouth…or could you feel the root of the plant? Could you smell its fragrance? What?”
“Okay, okay. Sherpurse. That's what we were taught.”
Oro shook Zimp's hand. “What did you see?”
Zimp teared up. She squeezed Oro's hand. Her breathing became shallow. “To the Gods with you,” she said. “I felt the spiky stems of horsetail.”
Oro smiled. She made a smacking sound with her lips. “Horsetail,” she affirmed.
“Horsetail is poisonous,” Zimp said.
“Not in my hands.”
“But in mine,” Zimp said.
“I don't believe that.” Oro let go of Zimp and closed her eyes to rest.
The wagons made significant progress. The horses pulled as though they were heading to a stable for feed. They were as determined as the clan to end the trip. About a mile from the council grounds, the caravan stopped. Noot woke Oro and helped her to the front of the wagon to sit next to him. The wagons were rearranged so that Oro entered the doublesight council grounds first. She forced Zimp to sit next to her as the caravan began to move again. At a Y in the road, a thinner path jutted to the left toward the center of Brendern Forest. Oro motioned for Noot to take that path. She turned to Zimp and said, “You must meet The Few with me.”
Zimp expected a natural oasis of openness, but found a series of clearings recently excavated for the purposes of setting smaller camps. Tents had been set up intermittently along the roadway as though they were guards leading into a palace, but no palace lay ahead. She caught a glimpse of Therin running deeper into the woods around the clearings as though he knew not to be seen.
A tall, thin man stepped into the middle of the road and raised a hand. His arms and legs appeared out of proportion to his torso. A great long sword hung from his waist, the length of which would rival any Zimp had ever seen. Upon seeing Oro, he bowed. Zimp noticed a long black pony tail swing over his shoulder. He approached the wagon with knees bent. “Oronice, welcome. It is good to see you again.”
Oro patted Zimp's leg. “Wallenstat, meet my granddaughter, Zimp of Lissland.”
The man bowed to Zimp. “You are very beautiful, Zimp of Lissland. Whatever you may want, just ask.” He rose to full height and reached out to her.
Zimp began to reach out to him in return, but Oro stopped her.
The man let his hand extend to its full length and then bend at the elbow until his fingers touched his breast where his heart would lie. Upon completion of his salute, the man explained to Noot how to arrive at the locations set aside for the clan's campsites. The clearings were close, but separated by trees. Oro's site, Noot was told, would be the closest to the center of camp.
“I didn't realize,” Zimp said.
“Just the initial greetings. The formalities will relax as we are here longer,” Oro said.
“You are that important to the council?” Zimp urged.
A tiny smile emerged from Oro's lips. Her chin lifted slightly. Zimp sensed pride from her grandmother.
As the clan separated, parked their wagons, and began to set their individual camps, Oro held onto Zimp's arm and led her down a recently worn path.
At a great parting of trees, she stopped and stared up. “To the holy order of Gods,” Zimp said.
Canvas stretched from tree to tree to tree, lifted and held by ropes draped from a height of twenty-five or thirty feet to the ground. She could not see the full width or length of the tent from where she stood, but judging from what she could see, the tent stretched over a distance of two hundred yards or more.
The evening had darkened but the moon shed light across the canvas, causing it to emit a dim glow that filled the space with more light than what was available had the tent not been there.
Oro pulled Zimp's attention to the right of the council tent. They walked into the woods to where a smaller cabin stood tucked between several great old growth aspen.
Two young boys guarded the cabin. One sat on either side of the door. They stood simultaneously as Oro and Zimp approached. “The Few will not take visitors until the morning,” one said. He had rehearsed his small speech and delivered it with an even tone.
“Very well,” Oro said and she began to turn away.
Zimp leaned into her and said, “Tell them who you are.”
“If The Few are taking no visitors then they are taking no visitors,” Oro said as though it was a simple matter. “Come, we will celebrate our arrival. The night is just settling upon us.”
Zimp helped Oro back to camp. People wandered around on the paths and in clearings along the way. Tents, lean-tos, and sometimes blankets alone signified a family's campsite. Zimp wondered what animal image each person could shift into. The sense of having all these doublesight in one place excited and terrified her. Years had gone by, but the doublesight history told of great battles between clans. To have them all here and in one place felt wrong in many ways. “Grandmother,” Zimp whispered, “how am I to learn when to assert my power and when not to? Like back there, at the cabin?” she asked.
“Back there?” Oro said. “That was respect. The Few were not exhibiting power, but were requesting time alone. Had I insisted, I would have been viewed as arrogant, as though my power overruled their request for peace and quiet.”
The people Zimp and Oro met on the path didn't appear to know who Oro was, which meant that they were family members and not part of the council. Zimp slowed at one point on the return walk and tried to envision the auras of a few people sitting toget
her building a small fire.
Oro poked her in the side with an elbow. “That would be rude here and at this moment,” she said. “Allow these people their secrets for now. All will be revealed soon enough.”
Noot had done a great job of setting camp for Oro and Zimp. Brok leaned over a small fire he must have built, and Breel stood over him. Zimp noticed the strength in Breel's arms as she had removed her shirt and wore only what appeared to be a thylacine pelt vest like the one her brother wore. Her sword stretched down along her thin leg. Something about her posture, her stance, made Zimp respect her.
“Brok, my young friend, how are you feeling?” Oro reached for him. Brok rose to his feet and extended his hand to her. She leaned in close and hugged him.
Zimp was shocked to see Oro so close to the thylacine, but the look on Brok's face was even more shocked and, at the moment, amusing. Oro appeared to have caught him off-guard.
15
THREE DAYS WANDERING THE CAMP, eating some meals inside the enormous council tent, and attempting to act civil with all the other doublesight proceeded to get on Zimp's nerves. “I have an urge to know what image each holds. I've already begun to guess, and am sure that I'm right much of the time. That family to the east of where The Few have their cabin, for example. Hawks.”
“And what gives you that idea?” Breel asked, sitting cross-legged on the ground near Zimp. Therin had reentered camp that first night and slept much of each day away. His head, at the moment, lay across Breel's lap like a tamed animal. Yet, if anyone came near, Therin's body stiffened with awareness and great globs of drool would begin to slip from his open mouth.
“They wear cloaks, first of all. Doublesight with flying images tend to wear cloaks. I believe it is the fluttering sound that makes us comfortable. Then there is the way their eyes appear to be always looking into the distance. It's as though we can see better from several hundred feet than from up close.” Zimp took the twig she twirled between her fingers and threw it into the fire. Smoke rose in a stream from the twig, then it snapped in two and spit tiny sparks toward her. “A layer of smoke, a spitting of fire,” she said.