Doublesight (21 page)

“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.

“The Lost is poorly named. My home is as alive as this place, but as different as it could be. Rocks grow instead of trees. The flowers are pointed, bristled with danger and poison – some of them. The game doesn't always have fur like here. There are cold-bloods everywhere, and insects that bite and leave huge welts on your arms and legs.”

“Why would anyone live there?” she asked.

Surprising them both, Raik spoke to answer her. “It's wide, filled with sky. There is little humidity.” He looked into the air over the
fire. “There are as many b-browns and reds in The Lost as there are greens and yellows here. A different b-beauty, b-but beauty just the same.” Raik lowered his gaze to meet Lankor's eyes. “Does that explain it?”

Lankor nodded. “If you own a dragon as beast image, I am afraid I do not recognize you. But, my little friend, you have stated the truth about my land.”

“Not a dragon,” Raik said. “I've traveled to a lot of places. Training. All over The Great Land and well into The Shallows, even on the Sea.”

“The Flande Chain?” Zimp asked.

“The Cold Chain and the Warm Chain of Flande, yes. And the Sealands. I've been north to the Harsh Seas beyond The Lost.” Raik lowered his eyes and looked into hers.

“The noise has subsided,” Zimp said turning to look away. “I wonder if Brok and Therin will be back soon.”

Lankor began to rise. “I'll check.”

“No, you won't. What do you think those angry wolves would do to your human image?” Zimp said.

“I can fight them,” Lankor said, but his action was to sit back down.

“I know, big boy, but you'll have to wait to show off. It's Brok's night to be free.”

“I hate waiting,” Lankor said.

Raik sat upright, pulled a dagger from his boot, and began to scratch into the dirt near his leg. “That is what will make you a b-bad warrior,” he said to Lankor. “Hammadin was smart not to p-put you in charge. Your lack of patience would be harmful to the rest of us. I could train you to hold back for the right moment.”

“You can't kill in any battle by holding back,” Lankor said.

“And what experience have you got?” Zimp said.

Lankor remained quiet.

“Exactly,” she said. “You might do well to listen to Raik.”

A rustle from the edge of the woods brought two scuffed-up and bloodied thylacines into camp.

Zimp had to focus to see which was Brok. As she did so, the beast image on the right began its metamorphosis into human form. The jowls shriveled first, which disgusted her, and she turned her head.

Lankor pointed for Zimp to continue looking. “Shifting happens both ways. This is an honor.”

He was right. Brok could have shifted in the woods and stepped into camp in human image, but he chose not to. Zimp began to stand again, but Lankor placed a heavy hand on her forearm and she sat back down and just watched as Brok shifted. His tail shrunk. His stripes faded. As his paws became hands he began shaking his head again. Zimp wondered if there was much pain involved in his transformation.

Brok coughed a few times, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and stood to his full height. “Thank you for leaving us alone,” he said.

Zimp recognized Brok's sincerity. “No real help to send you.”

“We f-figured you'd let us know if you needed us,” Raik said. His easy tone was that of confidence. Zimp recognized that Raik would be the first to know if help was needed.

Therin sat and looked up at his brother. His black eyes were a doorway into the dark of the night. He cocked his head. Brok put his hand down and Therin stood and placed his muzzle into his brother's open palm. Brok smiled and stroked Therin's nose. “They didn't have a chance.”

Zimp's stomach turned at the thought of what Brok and Therin could do to a wolf once it was caught in those huge jaws.

Lankor broke the silence when he said, “Who's next, Captain?”

Brok pointed at Zimp. “I've seen your kind, but have not seen you change. You had might as well give us intimate knowledge.”

Zimp hated the idea of being intimate with Brok or Lankor on any level. The idea that she could see Brok's beast image any time she chose to was enough for one night. Now, to let him see into her? That felt disgusting. “I'll wait, thank you.”

Brok turned his attention to Raik. “Would you like us to guess?”

“Y-you couldn't,” he said.

“What are you nervous about?” Brok said.

“Leave him alone,” Zimp said. Her feelings toward Raik had not yet jelled. She knew so little about him.

“I'm not doing anything. I'm only asking.” Brok picked up a twig and threw it into the flames.

Regardless of his stutter, Zimp saw that Raik didn't appear to be bothered by Brok the way that she was. She felt out of control in the
situation and didn't know why. Brok, having just come out of beast image, could be throwing his weight around: one battle won, another underfoot? She didn't want to believe that, but that's what occurred to her. “Do what you want, Raik. There is no pressure to change.”

“Except that you said we'd do it tonight,” Brok said. “Are you changing your mind?” Brok leaned in closer to the fire. He kneeled and sighed. “The doublesight are being destroyed. There are more attacks every day. The Council sent us on a mission. You know that we need to be able to sense one another's beast image or human image in order to work together efficiently, right, Captain?” Brok said to Zimp. “We may find more trouble than just humans on the rampage against doublesight, you know. There are doublesight all over The Great Land who are fanatics about their power to shift. They believe only in their own clan. They would be happy to help the humans rid them of predators, for instance. It may have been a wolf image clan who killed my family.”

“Is that what you think? Is that why you and Therin attacked those wolves tonight?” Zimp questioned. Night birds hooted and sang as though calling to her.

“He's right. Has this not been part of your lesson in history?” Lankor said. “Why else would the dragon clan stay hidden to this day?” His statement was delivered in an even, quiet tone.

“The Few knew about the clan,” Raik said.

“And many of the Council members. Oro,” Zimp said.

“You have been isolated long enough,” Raik said. “I'm sure you've been taught your own history, your own life story. What the doublesight did in the past was done out of fear of power. We are no longer in the past. If The Few knew about you, the existence of dragons should have been out in the open long ago.”

“The
existence
of dragons,” Lankor said. “You make it sound unbelievable. I know nothing else but the existence of dragons. I had never even seen a thylacine.” He looked from Brok to Zimp. “How can I be of help to anyone?”

Zimp sensed his desperation. She sensed that Lankor knew what his purpose was, and her heart went out to him. The four of them were to become a tight pack in their own right, yet they all knew that Lankor was there to battle for the rest of doublesight. He was the
only one who could battle another dragon. She knew that Lankor was to be used as much for bait as for warfare.

Zimp gazed at Lankor. “Do you want to shift? It is time that we became our own party of five.” She included Therin.

“Six,” Brok said. “Your sister.”

Lankor and Raik sat up to look around. “Who?” Lankor said.

Zimp felt a gush of sadness and choked back a tear. She gave a brief explanation of her intuitive connection with Zora. “The rest is for another day,” she said. “Now, we are on a mission. No one else is here any longer. No one controls how we interact or operate. To truly become one we must separate from The Few and the Council of the Doublesight.”

“Here, here,” Brok stood. “I'm with you, Zimp. We are the ones in danger. It's time to make our own decisions.”

Zimp turned to Lankor. “So, would you honor us?”

Raik stood. “Please, you two. I know it can be good to change the rules, but I'm a military man in many respects. Can we not break the rules and stay true to them all at once?”