Doublesight (15 page)

“He was fun. He loved life and people, everyone and everything, it didn't matter. He was the greatest fighter and warrior around at one time, but he never wanted to harm anything.”

“And you are the same,” Storret said.

“I'm not the same. All I want is to kill the men who attacked us. I only came here because I thought that my father would have wished it. These council meetings were of the highest importance to him and I never truly knew why. After tonight, after the council meetings end in whatever time that takes, I'm going after those men, and I'm going to kill them.”

“You can't avenge a death,” Storret said. “Death is but a shifting of another kind. There is no such thing as true death.”

“Your belief, not mine.”

“Many of us can talk with the dead. So, they can't be dead. They're in the next realm,” Storret said.

Brok wiped his mouth with his hand. “So I've been told. But thylacines can't talk with our dead. I've never known a thylacine intuitive. Perhaps it's all in your heads. You just think you speak to the dead.”

Storret shook his head. “Sorry. It's true. They go into the next realm.”

Brok and Storret talked all through the morning before Brok strolled back to camp and Storret shifted and flew back to his post. Brok decided on taking another nap to while away the day. He had been up late. He woke once, briefly, when Breel asked if he wanted lunch. He declined.

Storret woke Brok later that day. The early evening chill had settled into the area. The air smelled fresh. Seeing Storret's face, Brok asked in a partial daze, “Are they here?” He had to talk over the sound of drumming and chanting. “I'm surprised that noise didn't awake me.”

“Your body is re-energizing,” Storret said. “The others have not arrived yet, another hour or so. Just before sundown I'm told,” Storret said.

“Then what is it?”

“Zimp is dancing. You must see this. You must witness our ceremonial dance and you will better understand us.” Storret pulled at Brok's hand.

Brok lifted to his feet, Storret still holding to him. He followed the crow doublesight through the woods and into the clearing at the far side of Oro's wagon. Drumming pounded through his eardrums and he placed his hands over his ears. Breel sat in front of him and Therin lay beside her.

Zimp held her cloak in each hand and lifted it into the air and around her head. She danced what appeared to be particular steps, some slow and some quick, but each precise and practiced.

Brok heared the cloak flutter as it twisted through the air. Was the sound that loud or was it so distinct that it pierced through the drumbeat? The tattered edges of the red cloak flowed on the air, a series of tails to the distinct shape of the cloth itself. Deep within the sound of the drum, the low chanting, and the flutter of Zimp's cloak was an additional sound, a jingling of bells. Smoke from the fire intensified the sound with the thick odor of sage. Brok saw that Oro sat near the fire and threw something into it that made it spit and spark. Zimp's movements shifted and peaked with the licking tongues of the fire. She and the flames were in a synchronous motion, dancing and snapping, the cloak and the fire, whipping the air.

Although it would not be dark for hours, the dense forest held back the full sunlight. Shadows from the fire blistered the ground and leapt against the trees. More of the crow clan arrived and encircled Zimp as she danced.

Brok stood mesmerized, staring at the exotic movements, letting everything around Zimp and her cloak and the fire go blank. Focused and hypnotized by the motion, the shifting body, the rolling fire. He saw a blackness enter the dance that he couldn't explain. It drew him in even deeper. A wing, but that was impossible because just as he saw the wing he also saw both of Zimp's hands. The curve of a feather, the sharp point of a beak drew his attention back into the movement. There was something dancing with her, a crow.

He saw it clearly now. It flew into her cloak, then over her head. The crow clucked and cawed. Zimp chanted and sang. The glistening white of her tears blistered the air. The black soul of the crow's eyes looked through Brok and he blinked and lost the image for a moment. Zimp danced lower toward the ground, scooted around the fire, leaped into the air. Zora followed, flying into the cloak and between Zimp's legs.

The chanting became louder and Brok noticed that it came from all around him. The drumming speeded, the dance became a blur, the feathers of the crow whisked the air, the body of the crow lifted above Zimp until she leaped higher into the sky than she could humanly have done. She became as light as a bird. Her cloak, thrown above her, flew in slow motion over the head of her sister…her dead sister.

Brok feared he was seeing an illusion, but Zora was there, her wings held open as her black body turned below the arc of the cloak. And as the cloak fell in slow motion it spread out above them both. It lowered toward the ground, toward Zimp, as Zora tucked her wings and dived into the fire. Embers exploded into the air. The drumming ended abruptly. The clan silenced their chants. The cloak floated down to settle over Zimp's head.

Brok jumped when Storret touched his shoulder.

“You see?” Storret said.

Zimp remained under her cloak as the clan departed.

Brok stood with Storret, staring in disbelief. His heart and head felt light. “Was I placed in a trance?” he asked Storret.

Oro turned and motioned for one of them to help her. Storret and Brok came to her side, each taking an elbow. She motioned with her head for them to step away from Zimp. “There was no trance placed upon you except the one you may have accepted for yourself,” she said.

“But, what I saw—”

“Was a manifestation. Zora is in another realm, her physical body is gone, but her etheric body lives on, her subtle aura lives on. You, my young man,” she poked an elbow into Brok's side, “shift into a thylacine and think nothing of it because you assume that both are in this world at the same time. The ectoplasmic body of your thylacine manifests into a solid body.”

“Doesn't the ectoplasmic body of Zora die with her physical form?” Brok said.

“It becomes more difficult to hold to. The other realm does not need the physical. It is not of the physical. Zora cannot project ectoplasm of any form from there to here. But Zimp…” Oro silenced for a moment. “How do I say this? She loaned Zora her ectoplasm. What she did took tremendous energy and focus. I am very proud.”

Brok and Storret helped Oro to her wagon where she collected a few herbs and candles. “Just in case I need them,” she said.

It was time to gather at the council tent. Oro instructed Storret to double the guard. “Make sure the new arrivals are not followed.”

A fluttering occurred behind them, and Brok saw Zimp in crow image lift into the sky.

“Let us go,” she said to Brok after Storret's departure.

The paths through the woods were filled with families sauntering to the council tent. Brok wished he knew what beast images some of them had. He did notice that he felt comfortable being close to some of them and uncomfortable around others.

Oro had hold of Brok's arm. Breel and Therin ran up from behind. Breel said, “You've become quite the helper.”

Brok grimaced at his sister.

Oro patted Brok's hand. “Your brother is a very special person, my dear. Your teasing indicates that you have noticed something different about him.”

“I have,” is all Breel said.

From a distance as they neared the tent, Brok noticed Zimp at the apex of the glowing mass. She appeared surreal, a young woman wrapped in a red cloak against the chill of the oncoming evening. She perched atop the giant tent, no apparent way to reach the place where she sat. The red cloak, a lump of color from this distance, ruffled and shifted, shrunk, turned black, and sprouted wings, an intimate gesture had they been closer. Zimp flew down to the side of the tent, out of view, and stepped around it in human image to meet them.

17

“IT MAY BE DARK by the time we arrive.” Lankor slapped a tree trunk with an open hand in frustration.

“My fault,” Nayman said. “My foot has been bothering me.”

“I told you we should fly there,” Lankor mumbled under his breath.

Rend stopped dead in his tracks and turned on Lankor. He stood silently in front of his son. “This trip is not about making your life easy. It is about something greater than that.”

“Like what, Father? You don't know. All you know is that you were summoned and asked to bring your family, instead of making this trip alone.”

“And that makes it important,” Rend said.

“Not to me. I don't know The Few or the council or anything about the doublesight except what I've been taught. I've never seen anyone shift except my own family.” Lankor stared as though into a mirror, only the mirror had put on years, had wrinkled across the brow and under the eyes. The mirror had a mouth that turned down into hardship, no doubt from living off the barren lands of The Lost. Lankor felt love and pity for his father at that moment.

“The Few does not take the survival of the doublesight lightly. If you paid attention to your schooling, you would know that.”

“Maybe it's just a changing of the guard. Maybe one of The Few died and they're selecting a successor,” Lankor said.

Nayman stepped close to them, “That could be, but the summons said urgent.”

“He knows?” Lankor said.

Rend turned away. “He is the oldest. His learning is naturally beyond yours. Now, let us move on. We must make the council this evening.”

Mianna touched Lankor's shoulder. “You must be patient, young Lankor. All things will be revealed in time.”

Lankor stepped away from his mother and lifted Nayman's arm over his shoulder. “Lean on me,” he said, and began to forge forward through the forest.

Rend led the way, speeding his walk to accommodate Lankor and Nayman's enlivened pace.

The deeper they traveled into the forest, the less underbrush they encountered. In places, the canopy blocked most of the sunlight, not only darkening the woods, but also holding in the moisture. The scent of loam lifted into the air. The movement of small animals kept them alert. The forest became a noisy world where each sound came from something hidden under leaves, overhead, or behind a tree. Most of the sounds were unfamiliar to Lankor, so he made up animals that crawled, flew, and scurried. This kept his mind busy while he helped his brother traverse the road toward the council meeting.

Over a knoll, a small opening in the woods fell before them. A large tent stretched high along several trees. Small camps were visible around the larger tent and within the woods beyond the council tent. Fires blinked and small figures wandered. Lankor imagined many other camps tucked all around the spreading cedars, maples, aspens, and other trees that grew freely in Brendern Forest.

Nayman took a deep breath. “Not much farther,” he whispered into his brother's ear. “Thank you for helping.”

Lankor often felt more affection for Nayman than he did for Rend. He squeezed his brother's side close to him. “You would do the same.”

Rend and Mianna held hands as they hurried downhill into the compound.

Nayman slowed Lankor's progress for a moment. “Look. These are the clans of the doublesight. They are like us. To stand here, you would think The Great Land was made of only doublesight, but we are a small number by comparison to human only or animal only. Tonight, though, we are many.”

“And yet, my brother, I wonder which of them were the ones who crucified us? Which joined in the great war, the slaughter, against us? Which have deceived our clan?”

“By deceived you are speaking only of the history of the doublesight. Whatever is going on here is about our present time, not our history.” Nayman considered for a moment what Lankor said, then responded, “Or are you suggesting I deceived you by not telling you what father passed to me in confidence?”

Lankor looked at Nayman with a small grin. “Perhaps both, but mostly I wonder about the doublesight down there.”

“Father is wiser than you might think. If he says that the doublesight gather now for a single purpose, then it is fact.”

“We'll see. We'll see.” Lankor pulled his brother along as he descended the knoll into the compound.

Nayman said, “Are you planning something? Please, say that you are not. If you can't think of Rend, then think of Mianna.”

Lankor remained silent as he forged down the hill into the growing crowd outside the council tent.

In the compound, Rend appeared to know a lot of the people who had gathered for the council meeting. He clasped palms and gripped the shoulders of many men and women. He hugged and kissed the cheeks of some, as well. He had warned his family how each clan greeted one another in their own way, how each had their own way of showing friendship and affection. That, as part of his family, they would need to go along with whatever they encountered.

Bending to the ways of others, rather than having them bend to his ways, was yet another annoyance for Lankor. When an old woman came close to hug him, Lankor stepped back and nodded. He didn't even notice her name as Rend introduced her.

Rend shot him a concerned look; while Mianna stepped in to alleviate the discomfort, which Lankor had created in the situation by hugging the woman closely.

Unused to large crowds, Lankor and Nayman stood back a little more than what they were asked to do. Nayman apologized once again for not telling Lankor more about the urgency of the trip, but added, “That is the only information you didn't have.” He assured his brother that he didn't know why the meeting was urgent, and that he didn't think Rend knew either.

Mianna, the perfect wife, stood beside her husband, listening intently, and mimicking the greetings of whomever she met.

“What's that?” Lankor said, pointing to a doglike creature prancing into the group on its toes.

Rend turned to him and whispered, “A thylacine.”

“A doublesight with a pet? Is that normal?”

“It can be,” Rend said. “Some people like animals around them, some do not. It must be so, since it is suggested that we do not shift while at a council meeting.”