Doublesight

by Terry Persun

  Brok nodded. “I will return.”

  Breel turned to go and disappeared into the woods.

  “One last thing.” Hammadin clapped his hands together. “Zimp will act as your leader.”

  “Not my leader,” Lankor said.

  Hammadin turned on him. “You can stay if you like. Our decision that you go was marginal.”

  Zimp saw Lankor's eyes narrow and his jaw set. He nodded to Hammadin, then turned to Zimp. “Where to, my lady?”

  “Good,” Hammadin said. “One more rule.” He looked Lankor in the eye. “You, son, will be the last to shift into your beast image.”

  And with that, the five of them were ushered out the back of the cabin. Bundles of food and bedding were brought straight away. Zimp recognized the bedding from her wagon and asked about it.

  A thick man with strong arms and dark skin said, “Your families helped us select your gear.” He pointed to Brok, “Except for him. We brought everything he owned.”

  Zimp saw the sheath that held Brok's sacred staff sticking up from its place strapped to his pack.

  Lankor gripped his staff and raised it into the air as though hefting its weight to be sure it was his.

  Another short man stepped from the path with five fully packed horses, saddled and ready to go. One bore nothing but provisions.

  The two men strapped each traveler's pack onto the packhorse.

  As the doublesight prepared to mount, Zimp realized that Lankor had never been on a horse. The two men had to help him get into the saddle. His ride appeared uncomfortable with the unbalanced Lankor on its back.

  22

  LANKOR GRIPPED THE SADDLE HORN and stiffened his legs. When he squeezed his thighs to keep his balance the horse speeded up, and he bounced like a child riding on his father's knee.

  “Relax your body,” Raik said from behind.

  “I'll fall off,” Lankor said.

  “You'll sit the saddle and flow with the horse,” Raik said.

  The narrow path would not allow Raik to ride next to Lankor. Turning around in the saddle to look behind him, Lankor felt less safe. So, he kept his eyes forward and watched Brok ride while listening to Raik's instructions. Upon relaxing his lower body, Lankor began to allow his hips to move with the trotting horse under him. He noticed Brok's upper body bending and flexing and tried to copy the movements.

  From behind, Raik said, “That's it. Feel that? Much b-better.”

  Lankor still didn't feel completely safe atop the horse. Flowing with the animal's movements took a lot of concentration. He felt lucky that he didn't have to control the horse's direction. It followed Brok's horse, which followed Zimp's. Northwest was the direction of Weilk. Of all places for an opening to occur that was a lucky break, except that much of the region consisted of settlements made of small armies, warriors from one battle or another. Time had passed, but each area created its own laws, its own tight community. They didn't like strangers and they were always suspicious who might be trying to invade their land. Lankor had heard all about Weilk, for it had held the borders from the hordes of warriors coming down from Sclan when Sclan had the strongest and most ruthless army in The Great Land. Since that time, Sclan had been destroyed from inside. It now lay barren and broken. Lankor had never been to Sclan or Weilk, but he knew the history of The Great Land, and wasn't sure he wanted to head into those harsh territories.

  His ears were ringing from the tension he held in his head and neck. As the group slowed down to a walk, Lankor's shoulders relaxed. He felt tired. His stomach had been holding itself tight and he let out a long breath as his whole body slumped in the saddle.

  Raik brought the head of his horse near Lankor on the left. “You were catching on, but you kept t-tensing up in the turns and when we slowed. See how you feel now? Feels good, doesn't it? That's what you w-want while the horse speeds up.”

  “I don't think that's possible,” Lankor said.

  “It'll have to be or you're going to be body sore and so will your horse at the end of this first day.”

  “I'm ready to rest already.”

  “No d-doubt,” Raik said.

  A few hundred feet more and Zimp stopped to wait for the rest of them to ride into a clearing.

  Lankor's horse stopped and then began to back up.

  “Be easy on it,” Zimp said.

  Raik came up next to Lankor and reached over to slap his shoulder. “You're doing fine.”

  Lankor had not noticed Zimp's face during their brief meetings. Her high cheekbones and oval eyes made her look as though she'd come from a far, far land. The light filtered by the trees played over her hair, and he could see streaks of red from time to time. Her red cloak could have been causing the illusion, though. She pushed herself up using her legs and leaned on the saddle horn. She had strong arms and hands. Before she spoke, Lankor noticed a slight hesitation.

  “We travel over the Yellow Hills and along the mountain north toward Castle Weilk. A few days at best,” she said.

  “We'll have to travel parts of Torturous Road,” Brok said.

  Zimp sat. “I know.”

  Brok said, “Have you thought that possibly a path was not opened by the doublesight, that our escape may have been planned? We may be riding into a trap waiting on the other side of the hill.”

  “I've thought of that,” Zimp said. “Before we reach the crest later tonight, I'd like you to send Therin ahead.”

  Brok lowered his head. “Done.”

  Lankor wondered what connection there was between Brok and Zimp that he would take orders from her so readily.

  “Tonight we show our beast images to one another,” Zimp said flatly. She reined her horse around and proceeded at a walk toward the Yellow Hills.

  Numerous paths — some animal and some human — wound up the side of the hill toward the top. Lankor wondered why Zimp selected one particular route over another. At one point he followed as those ahead of him rode horizontally along the hillside for a thousand feet and then turn nearly vertical. The horses groaned as their bodies pushed themselves and their riders up the embankment. Raik, who had the packhorse tethered behind him, had a more difficult time getting the two to climb simultaneously. Lankor learned to lean forward over the saddle horn and let his horse find its own foothold at whatever pace it wished. Trying to slow the ride only caused his horse to lose its footing.

  Several times during their ride, Lankor noticed Therin burst down the hill. Once he leaped from a rocky ridge and tumbled toward Brok's horse, frightening the animal into leaping sideways. The thylacine appeared to be having fun in its beast image. It was obvious that no one waited to ambush them.

  Because they rode toward the top of the hill, they eluded an early sundown, gaining on the sun as it slipped slowly over the hill and into the distance. Along the ridge, Lankor stopped, expecting to see a valley vista; but only a western stretch of Brendern Forest lay before him. The hills rolled into the distance a green and yellow hue in the fading light.

  A crow cawed and Brok asked Zimp if it had followed them.

  “No. We're alone. He warns others of our arrival.” She slid from her saddle and bent her legs. “Quite a ride,” she said. “I'm not used to traveling like this.”

  Brok dismounted and held out his hand. Therin ran from the north trail to greet him.

  Lankor feared that his legs wouldn't work properly once he got off the horse. He had not eaten the whole day, except for the bread that was handed him. His body felt exhausted.

  Raik threw a leg over his horse's neck and jumped to the ground. He stamped as though making sure the earth was real. “This is where I belong,” he said. He walked around his horse and reached for the bridle of Lankor's horse. “H-hop down.”

  Lankor wasn't sure whether to swing his leg behind or in front of his saddle like Raik had done. When he pushed into the left stirrup and began to lift his leg, the horse shifted its rear to the side in a swift motion, which caused Lankor to fall. He heard a few snickers. “So I am
not a horseman…” He stood and brushed himself off.

  Raik led the horse away. “I'll care for the horses. This w-was a long trip for them, t-too.”

  The ridge area Zimp had chosen lay open to the approaching night sky, already exposing stars that hid throughout the day like invisible watchers. Rocky outcroppings pitched over long drops. Dirt and stone packed the rough ground. Scrub grew in odd patches here and there. The ridge ran north and south, and in both directions looked fairly open, bare of the thick forest they just left. The hills shrunk in the southern direction as the ridge turned west. Followed far enough, the ridge would drive them due west along the north side of the lake toward Stilth Alshore. Higher ground stood north of them. Yellow Hills drew closer to the sky, colder, and more dangerous to travel. A great tower had been built near the peak. It was said that around Memory Tower stood stone images of the most gruesome combinations of animal and human that ever lived. Lankor had never been anywhere near Memory Tower. He would have liked to see if his dragon image was set there in stone.

  “Beautiful view,” Zimp said.

  Lankor glanced over at her and put his hands on his hips. “Better than having trees all around. I felt closed in. Trapped. Not here though.”

  “My concern is our position,” Brok said. “We're in the open. If we make a fire, it'll be seen for miles.”

  “That's what we want,” Zimp said. “We don't want anyone to take us as criminals slinking through the forest, looking for our next take. We're just a band of happy travelers, out to see The Great Land and all it has to offer.”

  “I'll collect firewood,” Brok said. He and Therin stepped off into the woods from where they had just emerged.

  “Can you make a fire?” Zimp asked, then burst into laughter. Her hand flew to her mouth and her face reddened. “I'm sorry. I said the words before I thought about them. You know what I mean, though, don't you?”

  Lankor shook his head. “I'll take care of it.”

  As Zimp walked off to check in with Raik, Lankor created a beautifully tiered fire pit. Brok dropped armful after armful of wood next to Lankor, who placed the pieces strategically for maximum heat and minimum waste. Already the wind along the ridge had chilled. It would be a cold night up there.

  Before long, even the haze from sunset disappeared and darkness fell over them. The stars provided an evening tapestry of light. The moon would rise later in the night to cross above them. The fire pushed enough warmed air into the area for them to huddle around. After a quick meal, Zimp suggested now might be the time for them to shift in front of one another. That would allow each an awareness of the other's beast image while human, and human image while beast.

  “My brother has given my image away,” Brok said. “I should go first.”

  “Or me,” Lankor said. “I've already made the mistake of changing before many of you.” Lankor pointed at Raik, “And you, my little friend? Would you not volunteer?”

  “I am afraid you may not like traveling with me once you know the truth,” Raik said.

  Lankor laughed for the first time since their morning. Laughing made him aware of how sore his stomach muscles were. And his shoulders hurt even though it was his butt that held fast to the horse all day. “Did you see me shift last evening?”

  “No. I was looking away at the time. I couldn't see over everyone when I did turn around.”

  “I saw it,” Zimp said.

  “So you can see my image even now? Or do you sense my beast another way?” Lankor said.

  “I see it if I choose to, but also sense it another way,” she said. “I'm an intuitive, remember?”

  “I can smell it,” Brok said. “Once I've witnessed the change, I can smell it all over the person, or beast. I just know who they are, what they are.”

  “Therin?” Lankor asked.

  “Yes. So far,” Brok said. “I've only heard of doublesight remaining in their beast image, I've never witnessed it myself. Breel and I are afraid that Therin will lose his human sense as he slips deeper into the beast image only. He understands me now, but how long that will go on, I don't know.”

  “Could he become dangerous?” Zimp asked.

  Brok stroked his brother's head. “What do you think, Therin?”

  The thylacine shook his head as though answering Brok. “It appears he is saying no.”

  Brok didn't look as convinced as he sounded.

  Lankor looked to Zimp and to Raik. Each had their own challenges and here they were thrown together for a mission Lankor felt was vague. To bring back information so that The Few could decide how to handle the problem. What information? How would they decide to resolve a problem that they didn't understand?

  “My feeling is that Brok will know what to do with Therin and when to do it,” Lankor said.

  “You may be right, dragon boy,” Zimp said.

  23

  BROK STEPPED TO THE EDGE of the ridge, surrounded by a clutch of blinking insects sparkling like lost coals from the fire. He turned and looked at his companions, “Watch me shift.”

  Zimp felt a surge of fear run through her body like nothing she had felt before. Secretly, she didn't want Brok to be first. Each time she watched a shift, the image became easier to see, more permanent. She and Brok were not on the best of terms, and the ability to see his thylacine at all times would be tempting, yet horrible. She had no choice in the matter.

  She stood and motioned for the others to stand with her. Shifting would become a sacred act they would do for one another, not just in front of one another. “Wait,” she said.

  She felt that Brok understood immediately what was about to happen. She reached down and pulled a blazing branch from the fire and lifted it over her head. “The crow clan has no ceremony for such an event. I am sorry. But know this,” she swallowed and let words come to her, “that with this flame, in this dim light, we are here to share in your shifting. We are here to accept your beast image, and will forever respect and care for you as our brother.” Her heart pounded. The words, her words, as though they were coming from another realm, touched her soul.

  Raik placed his hands together as though praying. He bowed.

  Brok looked over at Lankor and waited. Zimp pointed to the fire at another branch, cold on one end and aflame on the other.

  Lankor reached down and pulled the flaming wand into the air with an awkward motion. He touched it to Zimp's. “Together, we bring more of the light of understanding.” He mumbled the last word. “Ah, greater strategic brilliance and tenfold fire power to our plight.”

  Raik shook his head. He reached down and grabbed a branch with little unburned wood showing. His hand fell dangerously close to the flame and when he placed it next to the other two branches and the flames joined and leaped higher, more brilliantly into the night sky, Zimp was sure that his fingers burned. But he did not flinch.

  The three of them stood side by side.

  Brok spread his arms wide then pulled them in front of his body. His face elongated and spittle dripped from his mouth. His eyes burst into flame from the reflection of the fire the three others held. He shook his head as if trying to will the transformation into being. The sound of a moist mouth and clattering teeth filled the air. His head stopped shaking. In a low howl, he fell to all fours and barked a horrible and painful noise at them. The transformed Brok turned, the stripes along his back and the marsupial tail flashed briefly before he was gone into the woods.

  Raik threw his stick into the fire and blew on his fingers. “That was an amazing thing to d-do,” he said.

  “Thank you.” Zimp found herself respecting Raik for his tremendous self control.

  “We must make it a tradition as each of us shifts,” Lankor said.

  “I felt silly,” Zimp said. “There is no ceremony that I know of, yet I felt like we had to do something. Preserve the moment in some sacred way.”

  “It creates a bond,” Raik said bluntly and with conviction. “At first I didn't know w-what to do. In war we would toast or
cheer. Your instincts are good.”

  Lankor dropped his flaming branch into the fire. “Should someone go out and bring him back?”

  His words brought back the reality of the situation for Zimp. “No,” she said. “Give him a moment. He'll return shortly.”

  “He appears pretty independent to me, pretty cocksure of himself. He may decide to stay out all night,” Lankor said.

  “She's s-sure.” Raik said.

  Zimp and Lankor sat down near the fire. Both gazed into the flames watching them twist into the air as Raik lifted his chin and stared at the sky.

  The loud scream-howls of the two thylacines pierced the air. Other squeals and barks burst into the camp as well. Yelps broke through the noise of the crackling flames. Death cries. Fear had struck.

  “Wolves,” Zimp suggested.

  “They don't sound very happy,” Raik said, laughing.

  “It sounds like Brok and Therin know how to fight,” Lankor said.

  “As a thylacine, perhaps. We'll have to see what he can do in human-image,” Zimp said.

  Raik winked at her and she felt eerily penetrated by his stare.

  Just beyond the ridge, the woods behind them became a blackened wall, visually impenetrable. The cool scent of the forest still prevailed in the air around the camp, mixed with the smell of the raw cold from the northern mountains.

  “It is beautiful here,” Zimp said.

  Another bark spread over them, this time falling into silence much too quickly.

  “Something died,” Raik said. He turned to look over at Zimp. “And in such beauty.”

  She felt acknowledged, but not comfortable, with him listening so attentively to her heartfelt message. And then to twist her sense of beauty into a story of death. Was it sarcasm that he delivered?

  “More greens and yellows than I'm used to,” Lankor said. “Too closed in.”

  “I've never been to The Lost. Is it as barren as they say?” Zimp tried to ignore the howls and cries that interrupted their conversation from time to time. She noticed that Lankor listened closely to the far off battle, too, appearing impatient and frustrated with having to just sit and listen.