Doublesight Page 5

“We are very capable,” Brok said.

  They held one another's forearms. “Brok Taltost,” the man said. “My sister Breel and brother Therin.”

  “Zimp of Lissland,” Zimp said.

  “You are a long way from home,” he said.

  Zimp shook her head. “We've been traveling for years. I'm not sure we have a home.”

  While still holding each other, they each made a single motion downward with their arms before separating.

  Zimp turned her back on Brok in a forced attempt to indicate trust. Her spine tingled and several of her men looked surprised. She indicated the tops of wagon canvases that could be seen cresting the hill, then motioned toward the sun. “We'll walk with our guests to the forest and meet with the rest there.”

  “We just came from the forest and were heading south along the lake,” Brok said.

  Breel, now beside him, said, “We were ambushed at our home.” She pointed toward the forest.

  “We have scouts. It's safe.” Zimp stepped toward Breel. Her energy felt softer than her brother's, but still made Zimp feel jittery and nervous. “We were ambushed too. Trust me, it's safe to camp near the forest. It's not far and you can be on your way tomorrow.”

  Breel smiled broadly, an unnerving act to Zimp, but she returned the smile.

  The sun made its last glimmer of direct light and the air thickened with gray. It would be dark soon. Zimp yelled to Storret, “Take five men with you and penetrate deeper into the forest. I want no trouble from beast nor man.” Ordering Storret felt strange to her, but she had to show her command to Brok. She felt little respect coming from him, only anger, and anger can set off like a flame instantly.

  Storret and five others slumped into the grass and a moment later flew out of it on crow wings. The sight always made Zimp want to fly along with them. She sensed her body become lighter even as she watched.

  Therin followed Brok and Breel closely. Any time someone got too close to either one of his siblings, he growled a warning.

  Zimp noticed that her companions were also uneasy around the thylacine. Yet, curiosity caused them to stare and migrate near the strangers, especially the one in beast image.

  The nine of them walked in an uneven line toward the forest. This meant that Zimp could not focus on Therin to see if he had a human ethereal body. Later she may have the chance.

  Darkness crept into the air around them. The edge of the forest shown bright compared to its depths. Wind built from behind them, from across the lake. Cold and damp, it pushed at their backs. The grassy hillside leading to the forest leaned in the same direction the crows and thylacines trudged. The caravan of wagons appeared one by one over the ridge ahead of them and to the left.

  Brok plodded up the hill at a slower pace as four, then five, wagons came into view. Zimp sensed his concern over their numbers and eased closer to him until she heard the quiet growl of his brother. “Oronice has assured your safety. Even if you do not trust me, you must know that anyone who is part of the council is true to their word.”

  “My father was part of the council,” Brok said.

  “Then you must know that what I say is true.”

  He nodded and picked up his pace.

  The wagons arrived at camp first. By the time Zimp and her fellow travelers made the forest edge, the wagons had been settled just inside the trees wherever space allowed. Several fires had been started, large pits scraped open, and blankets placed over the grass all around the pits.

  The camp felt familiar already to Zimp. “Come with me,” she said to Brok and his siblings. “Noot!” she yelled to her cousin. “My wagon?”

  Noot looked up and pointed to the tallest tree. “At the base of that tree. But she's not there, as you can tell.”

  A dark bird-shaped shadow perched at the upper tip of the tree that Noot had pointed at. The moon rose to one side. The shadow hopped into the light that illuminated the edges of the limbs at the top of the tree.

  “What is she doing?” Breel said.

  Zimp didn't speak right away. How could she explain an old woman's urges? She took a deep breath and turned her head back to ground level, turned her eyes to Breel. “Flying,” Zimp said.

  “But she's not flying,” Breel said.

  “When your body is that light and sitting on a branch that could never hold your whole weight, it feels like flying. Oro is resting for a moment.” Zimp smiled at the woman. “Come with me and I'll find clean clothes for you.”

  “No,” Brok said.

  Breel and Zimp waited for more.

  “We, thylacine, that is, are nocturnal. We may not even be here in the morning.”

  “You need not return the clothes,” Zimp said. “But if you want to wash what you have on and replace them sometime in the night, you may choose to do so.”

  Breel stood until Brok answered with a slight nod of his head.

  “Noot, help Brok with something, too,” Zimp said.

  Therin stayed with Breel, to Zimp's disappointment. The two of them followed Zimp to her wagon and waited while she pulled some clothes from her own compartment. Zimp thought to use Zora's clothes, but then changed her mind.

  “You can change inside and your brother can wait here,” Zimp said.

  Breel lowered her head and sniffed. She brushed the back of her hand along the side of her face, catching a tear that had slid from her eye.

  Zimp automatically stepped closer to Breel, placing the clothes across the back of the wagon first.

  Therin made a low groan, but Breel pointed at him and he stopped. The young woman turned into Zimp and shuddered along her shoulders. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry,” Breel said.

  “No. Don't be sorry. I understand.” Zimp held her, but sensed a curious rejection while doing so.

  In a moment, Breel quit sobbing and shoved Zimp forcefully away. “Enough,” she said.

  The aggressive act surprised Zimp, but she let it go. “Well, then,” she said. “I'm going to make sure Oro is all right. Can you meet back at the center fire when you are through here?”

  “Of course,” Breel said.

  Zimp stepped to the front of the wagon and shifted peacefully into a crow. There was a pace at which minimal pain and maximum elation could be reached. Only occasionally was a doublesight able to reach that point. Something allowed Zimp to be there this time.

  She flew almost straight up and landed near Oro. The moon sent a glow over the canopy of the forest, which appeared to be a single rolling softness of green, the yellow green of early life, of spring. A fresh smell lifted into the sky, the fragrance of life, the perfume of growth, of new birth.

  Oro let go of her branch and glided toward the plains they had just crossed with their wagons.

  Zimp followed her as she weaved back and forth along the way, turning toward the lake and then back around and up toward camp.

  Oro penetrated the blackness of the forest, circled around, and landed near her wagon. She shifted into a bent old woman.

  Zimp stood in human form beside her and took Oro's arm to help her walk into camp.

  “You needn't help me all the time,” Oro said.

  “I want to.”

  “Did you welcome our guests or did you ask Storret to make the greeting?” Oro said.

  “I did it, just as you asked.”

  “Good. It wasn't so difficult, was it?” Oro said.

  “For who?” Zimp asked. She shook her head. “No, it wasn't bad. But I still don't like thylacines. And, I'm not sure what happened, but they were ambushed and the one brother, Therin, is still in beast image.”

  “Did you look to see if he had a human's ethereal body?”

  “I couldn't. Either he was too low in the grass or we were walking together. There was not time. I fear that it's permanent, though.” They walked farther together. “That's got to be awful.”

  “The yearning never stops,” Oro said. “For the rest of his life he will get close to human thought and expect a shift, but nothing will happen. You've seen a
nimals that appear to be almost human? Well, often they were. The inability for a human to shift back from a beast image can drive one insane. It's a yearning that can never be satiated.”

  “There's nothing you can do?”

  “There are no herbs to cure a permanent shift. The poor boy. He must have experienced something terrible. It takes a lot for a doublesight to remain in either beast or human image. Something just clicks inside the ethereal body, something gruesome and frightening happens and snap.” She snapped her fingers. “We must accept what has occurred.”

  7

  FIREFLIES BLINKED IN THE COOL EVENING AIR outside the reach of the firelight, deep inside the woods and well into the field. Their presence added a magical quality to the night. Zimp and Oro came from the wagon into the camp area. Festivities had already begun. Stalks of grass had been collected, bound, and placed all around the fire for when they wished to feed the fire into a high blaze. Early spring flowers had been collected and set around the camp. The women wore flowers in their hair. The men had gathered wood and made the fires wide so that they could cook near the edges and let the flames reach up above their heads.

  Looking at the smiles on the faces, even those with bandages from their wounds, would confuse anyone who knew of their morning travesty. Oro motioned where she wished to sit near the center fire, and Zimp led her there and helped her to sit on a bench that had been brought from someone's wagon.

  “Oh, the freshness of the air,” Oro said.

  Zimp had mixed feelings as she stepped over to Brok and his siblings, who had been brought to the center fire to wait for Oro's arrival. Zimp reached for Brok's hand, but he refused to take it. Breel and Therin stood silently beside him. “Let me introduce you to Oronice the Gem,” Zimp said.

  Brok nodded, Breel curtsied, and Therin sat with his bottom jaw hanging and saliva slipping from his mouth.

  Oro pulled a candle from her pocket and leaned onto her knees to light it in the fire. She let a few drops of wax fall onto the ground and placed the candle into the wax.

  “I am…” Brok began, but Zimp stopped him with a lift of her hand.

  Oro whispered something while staring at the candle, as though she were talking to it. She took a small amount of powder from her pocket and threw it into the fire. A green smoke rose quickly then dispersed into the night air. She placed some of the same powder over the candle flame and it created a red smoke. She looked up at Brok. “You are here in our care. You are safe as long as we are alive.”

  Zimp indicated that it was time for Brok to speak.

  He lowered his head farther than the nod he had given at first. His curly hair fell around his dark brown face obscuring it for a moment. When he lifted his head he threw his hair back with a twitch of his neck. “I am Brok Taltost,” he said with pride.

  Breel reached for his arm. Tears were in her eyes.

  “This is my little sister, Breel Taltost.” His head lowered to include Therin, “And my brother, Therin Taltost.”

  Oro smiled brightly. “Oh, oh, oh. Then it is my personal honor to be in your company. For we are blessed to be sure.” She looked at Zimp. “We are in the presence of the children of Fremlin Taltost.” Oro placed her hands together and bowed to the three thylacine doublesight siblings.

  Zimp cocked her head.

  Arren, who stood just outside the circle of seated crow clan, spoke up. “Fremlin Taltost once stood as High Guard to the Three Princes of Crell. He held Crell Center almost single handedly against the attack from Southern Weilk, then known as Stilth.”

  “That was before the Three Princes of Crell joined with Stilth to make Stilth Alshore,” Brok said. He appeared pleased that someone knew his father.

  Hearing the story, Zimp recalled her history lessons. “It is my pleasure as well,” she pulled her cloak around her and bent at the knees and lowered her head in respect. When she stood and looked over at Oro, the woman was motioning with her head.

  “Your candle,” she said.

  Zimp felt her face turn flush. “I didn't bring one.”

  Oro reached into her other pocket and pulled an orange candle from it. She stretched it toward Zimp. “Never be without the proper sacred tools again. You are heir to the leadership of our clan and you will act appropriately.”

  Zimp took the candle from Oro and noticed Arren's glib smile. Her blood rushed faster to her face, but she stayed collected. With the candle, Zimp turned toward the thylacines and kneeled so that she could light the candle from the fire. Like Oro had done before her, Zimp let some wax fall to the ground and set the candle firmly into it. She placed her hands together over the flame and spoke into the candle so softly that she hoped no one could hear her. “To this sacred moment and to this sacred place, I acknowledge my shame in not being prepared. I place in the hands of the other realms my future. And, I accept that Brok, Breel, and Therin are here for some purpose that I may not yet know. To the Gods.”

  She looked up and Brok reached out to help her stand. She shook her head to get him to back away.

  “Sit, my honored friends,” Oro said. “Tell me how you came to be here. Tell me how your parents are, the rest of your family?”

  Breel burst into tears and Brok placed a hand over her shoulder. Therin buried his head into her lap.

  “They are all dead,” Brok said straight out, as though there were no other way to get the information from his memory than to let it gush from him. “Attacked while we returned from an evening outing.”

  “There was a big surprise that Daddy wanted to tell us about,” Breel said through sobs. “He made us wait. We were celebrating.” She coughed into her hand.

  “A short trip for the family, perhaps?” Oro said.

  Brok stirred noticeably. He looked as though he wanted to stand in anger, in surprise. Zimp couldn't tell which it was.

  “How would you know?” Brok said.

  Arren stepped forward and closer to the fire where he could be seen. “We are all going.”

  Oro cut him off. “You,” she said, pointing a finger at him, “will not speak at this moment.” Noticeably angered, Oro turned back toward Brok and let her entire demeanor change. She became soft.

  Zimp watched her grandmother with amazement.

  “The Few have called a council meeting of all the clans of the doublesight,” Oro told them. “They have asked us to bring our families. Our immediate families,” she said. “Although, you can see that we travel in larger groups than that.” She indicated Arren and the rest of the camp. “They will wait outside the encampment of the council until we are through.”

  Brok pulled his sister close.

  “You, my young man, will now attend with us. You and your travel mates,” Oro said. “You must go in your father's place. I would be honored to announce your arrival and personally introduce you to The Few.”

  “We can travel alone,” Brok said. “We were going south.”

  Breel pulled back to look at his face then pulled on his arm. “Alone,” she said.

  Oro reached for Zimp to help her get off her knees and sit on the bench once again. “As the son of Fremlin, you may choose to do what you will. But the council of the doublesight has called to your family. Your father must have imparted to you the importance of such a request.” Oro waited for a moment.

  Breel whispered, “Please,” into Brok's ear.

  There was silence for a long while. Zimp didn't know what to do but felt that Oro was waiting for her to say something. She rustled around for a moment and all eyes turned toward her. From her belt hung a small deer hide pouch. She pulled it around so that she could open it. She reached inside and removed a beautiful ring too large for her fingers. The blue and white stone sparkled in the firelight. She threw it to Brok. “A peace offering,” she said.

  Brok caught the ring in one hand. “It's my ring,” he said. “You stole my ring. How? You were never close enough.”

  “Closeness has little to do with it,” Zimp said.

  “You stole my
ring, my grandfather's ring, from me, and now want me to accept it as a peace offering?”

  Zimp stretched tall and clenched her teeth. She glanced at Oro, offended by Brok's response. Under any other circumstances, that ring would have been as good as gone. Disappeared forever. Thieves do not return stolen items. Never. Her act was one of respect and humility and he acted upset? How dare he?

  Oro laughed and they all looked at her. “Our ways are different than yours,” she said to Brok. “We keep what we take. If you do not hold it close it becomes ours. Exposing herself to you is not only honorable, but thought to be an act of blessing and respect. It is like saying a prayer for you every day for a year.” She stopped and looked into the fire for a moment, trying to remember something. “I know. It is like the honor you place on a beast-only, on a permanent thylacine if you find it dead. You wear its pelt to honor its existence. Having the pelt, or a tooth or claw necklace, is a reminder that you as a doublesight could not change shape if that shape did not also exist wholly as a beast.”

  Brok didn't look very convinced. “Do not steal it again,” he said, appearing to be more of a threat than a statement.

  “She won't,” Oro said. “Not without returning it willingly. Once an item is returned in such a way, like this ring, it can only become the piece in a game, never again as an item to be stolen and kept.”

  “My father wore it. He passed it to me several days ago.” To Zimp he said, “Do not take it again.”

  Breaking the seriousness of the conversation, the orange candle Zimp had used popped and spit and burst into flames, throwing a fireball straight into the air. All around the camp a cheer went up. Drums began to be pounded and people got to their feet to dance.

  Oro threw her hands up and let them slap onto her thighs. “That was the only extra candle I had with me.” She smiled brightly at Zimp, a flash of elation took over her face. “I suppose we dance and welcome our dead into the next realm.” Arren advanced into the circle and reached for Oro's hand. She took it, to Zimp's surprise.

  “I don't know if I can do this tonight,” Zimp said.

  “Your sister needs to speak to you,” Oro said.