Doublesight (26 page)

“What can we do to help?”

“Leave me alone,” Raik said.

Lankor turned and left. He stood near Zimp to talk with her. Raik could not hear what they said, but knew that they plotted against him. He had said too much.

Brok had spent some time laying out a variety of foods they had brought with them. There would be no fire this night. That was the good and the bad of it.

Raik took a deep breath and asked his mind to quiet. He often had to do that. He thought of his family, his boys. He knew that either Zip would kill Ka or Ka would slit Zip's throat in the night. That some day their beast images would overcome them, as his beast images were taking over his life. Bennek thought differently, but Raik
knew the strain personally. The mouse would do anything to have the snake gone from its habitat and the snake would merely feed off the mouse and never think about it again.

“I'll take your watch,” Lankor said. Again, he stood behind Raik.

Raik nodded. “Perhaps you're right. I am in n-no condition. But a warrior does n-not let his comrades down.”

“We'll each take an extra few minutes. It'll be easy. We should be there for one another.” Lankor reached for Raik's shoulder and placed a heavy hand on it.

Raik looked squarely into Lankor's eyes and nodded his approval. He followed his fellow traveler back to the circle of the camp and sat on the ground with his legs crossed. His mind hissed and raced and twisted. He could feel his own snake image, the aura of it, swaying. “Brull believes that I was the only mouse remaining in the doublesight. That is, until Ka was b-born.”

“Dragons were believed gone, too,” Lankor said.

“Something is going wrong with the doublesight, I fear.” Raik picked at the moss in front of him. “We are on some sort of road to destruction. Either we will kill each other or we'll kill ourselves.”

“Don't say that,” Zimp snapped as though she believed Raik but didn't want to hear it said aloud.

Brok stood and they all looked at him. “I'm going to take some food and begin my watch early. Therin will go with me.”

“Agreed,” Zimp said.

“He knows. His b-beast image knows this is a dangerous place. It s-senses something,” Raik said.

“Predator and prey doublesight live together in harmony. That's why we don't kill when we are in beast image. We play. We explore our animal side. We have fun with it,” Zimp said.

“And that's how the humans, the singlesight humans, know which beasts are truly animal singlesight and which are doublesight. That is how they track the doublesight down and kill them.” Raik paused. He noticed that he did not stutter through his last statement. He had no hesitation about what he said. “That is how it is done now that many of the predator doublesight have already killed off many of the prey doublesight. B-but things are changing. Prey doublesight are returning. Like me. And the doublesight that was wiped out, like
Lankor's dragon image, is returning.” Raik took a deep breath. The talk had quieted the voices in his head for a while. “What other horrible images have already returned? What might we truly run into? D-Demons? You don't understand as I do that we need to be willing to kill our own as we would our enemy, just as we must be willing to kill the humans who appear to be our only enemy. We may need to have the strength to k-kill ourselves for the betterment of the whole of doublesight.”

“Don't say that,” Zimp said.

“It is true,” Raik said, sensing the depths of that truth like he felt none of the others would ever be able to feel.

“The doublesight have a right to live, too.” Zimp scooped up a large piece of bread and pecked at it, nibbling the edge.

“All life may have a r-right to live, but at what expense to other l-life forms? We destroy trees and g-grasslands to build castles and villages,” Raik said.

“That's different. Plants don't speak and move as we do.” Zimp appeared to notice the mistake in her thinking almost as soon as she said the words.

Raik leaned toward her and said, “I can see that you are beginning to understand. What of the b-birds, small animals, insects that are destroyed for those villages?” Raik lifted his head high. “Even people die to build the greatest castles. Like Castle Weilk.”

“The great land is large,” Zimp said.

Lankor scuffled to a sitting position and crossed his legs. He reached for a slice of dried meat and held it up. “We already kill animals to survive.” He bit into the meat and ripped off a piece. “Buffalo,” he said. “There are no longer any buffalo doublesight. Does that make it okay?”

“What do you want me to say?” Zimp said.

“J-just see our point,” Raik said. “The great wars may have ended, but smaller wars have continued. We of this w-world kill one another. That is what we d-do. Perhaps there is no stopping us. With the doublesight spawning throwbacks, I fear things will only get worse.”

“You sound as though you're on the side of the humans. Would you see all of doublesight go down?”

“I d-don't always know the answer to that. I see both sides. You m-must remember, my dear leader, that my family was already mixed between doublesight and h-human. I grew up knowing both sides of the argument,” Raik said.

Zimp pushed into a standing position. Raik felt small below her. Crows were known to kill snakes. He felt the predator in her as well as in himself.

“You'd better select your side,” she said. Zimp turned and took a few long and bouncy strides into the woods, in the direction of where Brok had gone.

“I see your point,” Lankor said once she was gone from earshot.

“I thought you might, being raised in The Lost. It is wild there. You can't escape the killing or you could be killed.” Raik let his head lean back so a breeze could cool his face.

Lankor's voice came through the sound of the breeze, a low and firm sound. “But I want our clan to live. Do you see the difference? I don't mind letting others live, the sacredness of life and all that belief that comes from my family. But, more than that, I want dragons to live. It is not possible for us to live without meat, without killing, but we don't have to wipe out another race entirely. Where is the sense in driving the doublesight into extinction?”

“I am a danger to m-myself. My children are a danger to each other. If you came upon me too quickly while I was in s-snake image, I could k-kill you with one strike.” Raik waited for a response.

Lankor laughed. “You could slit my throat while I sleep, while in human image. We all have our personality, our nature. These bandits kill their own kind just to steal trinkets to buy other trinkets. What is the thinking in that killing? Is the killing of a species you fear any better reason than to kill for money or jewels? Or food and shelter? Or protection?”

“I think you are saying what I m-meant. We are killers. All of us. It will only get worse.”

“I like you, my little friend. But I disagree that we should accept that we kill each other only to wipe out our fear. Fear, as my father has taught me, is personal. You must accept your own fear and deal with it. Getting rid of the thing you fear does not end your feelings
of fear. If you fear your own two images, you must deal with it.” Lankor bit off another piece of meat. “Kill only when you must and respect that which you kill.”

“You sound a lot like my brother,” Raik said.

“And that's a good thing?”

“Yes, very good. I'll admit that I don't always feel like I have control over my own thoughts and actions,” Raik said.

“I'll watch for that,” Lankor said.

They both laughed over the idea.

28

BROK SCANNED THE AREA for a glimpse of Therin, but only heard his brother's faint footfalls. He knew that few others, doublesight or not, would be able to sense Therin's presence at all. Thylacines were natural stalkers, quiet and deadly.

Alert to his surroundings, Brok took a few steps and caught the scent of one of Zimp's candles. The crow clan doublesight woman fell from the sky, landing lightly on her feet. He caught the unusual odor long before he heard her. Stooping behind a pine tree, Brok began to take shallow breaths. He waited. Zimp did not call out.

He wanted to shift into his thylacine image, get a stronger sense of her purpose. An ache shot through his body, and a hunger gripped his thoughts. He had to catch himself before the shift began. To do this, he looked at his hand, reached for his sword and, in one smooth motion, rounded the tree and drew his weapon. Zimp faced away from him. He touched the shoulder of her cloak with the tip of his sword. “I thought I had first watch?”

Zimp sighed and said, “I heard you only when it was too late to do anything about it.”

“That's the idea. What brings you out for a walk? Surely you weren't wishing a rendezvous with me?” he said. Brok lowered his weapon. He could see that she felt uneasy in his presence. “I'm not dangerous unless I choose to be,” he said.

“That makes me feel better,” she said, in an obvious attempt to lighten the conversation.

“You should. I have no interest in harming you.”

“I came for a reason,” she said.

“I don't trust either of the others, if that's what you want to know,” Brok said. “I believe I told you that before.”

She pulled a berry from a nearby bush and popped it into her mouth. “I think there is something wrong with Raik.”

“He does appear to be the more volatile.”

She cracked a smile. “Oh, you noticed.”

“He disappeared—‘fell back,’ is what he said—to be sure we weren't followed,” Brok said.

“By that old man and his son with the broken arm?”

“He didn't say. But when he returned I noticed a spot of blood on his horse's flank.” Brok didn't wait for her to say anything. A response wasn't necessary. “He killed them,” he said, knowing that Zimp was well aware where the conversation headed.

“Why would he do that?” Zimp said.

“They posed a threat,” Brok said.

“To us? I can't imagine,” Zimp said.

Brok shook his head. She had the distinct look of confusion on her face. The reason seemed obvious to him.

“What?” she said.

“They posed a threat to him. They know something about him.” Brok stepped closer to Zimp, knowing that it made her even more nervous. Had Therin been close by, Brok may have brought him into the mix just for sport. Yet there was something about her that intrigued him. He wanted her to like him, trust him, but fought those feelings.

“That doesn't make me feel any better.”

“I'm surprised he let me take his watch, that he allowed us all to stand watch for him. I expected him to protest,” Brok said.

“You were going to follow him, weren't you?”

“Now you're catching on,” Brok said. “I wanted to see how important it was to him. Maybe he took care of what he needed.”

Brok watched as Zimp paced in a small circle. He stepped toward her.

She stared at the ground as though she were reading the location of pine needles and leaves for an answer. She stopped and looked up at him. “He's a soldier. He'd see through your plan. He knows you're onto something and meant to side-step you.” She laughed quickly. “He'll rest.” She inadvertently reached for Brok's shoulder and he pulled back. “I'm sorry.”

He shook his head. “It's all right.” Then he reached out and took her hand. She didn't pull away as he had thought she might.

“We'll keep an eye on him. Don't let him fall back or separate from the group unless he clears it through me.” She lifted her chin. “Can you do that?”

“Of course.” He let go of her.

“Tell me something. Why didn't you kill those two yourself? It looked as though you wanted to.”

“I just want to kill those who killed my family. I found that I have nothing against the others.”

“Don't make it personal,” Zimp said.

“It is personal.”

“What of the doublesight?”

“That's personal on a larger scale, isn't it?” he said. “If I knew that they killed doublesight it might make a difference. If all they do is kill each other, why would I interfere?” He felt a great hand grip his chest as he breathed deeply. He gritted his teeth. “If I thought bandits were doublesight killers, then yes, I'd easily slaughter them all. You would too.”

“I might for the sake of the doublesight. But it wouldn't be personal.”

“I don't believe you,” Brok said. He watched her walk away. Her red cloak stuck to the underbrush and held back while she continued forward. He heard the snap of the garment as it released. A breeze blew in from the north and chilled him. It was not as cold as when they slept at the crest of the mountain, nor as open. He listened for Therin and heard a soft panting twenty feet away. Had his brother listened to the conversation? Was he still able to? Brok snapped his fingers and kneeled. He waited for Therin to rush through the forest and sit before him. Staring into Therin's eyes, Brok questioned everything he had been taught, everything he had grown up believing.

Saliva dripped from Therin's mouth. The odor of fresh game lingered on his breath.

Brok reached out and rubbed his brother's ear. “You have no choice but to kill and eat game, do you? How must that feel to you, when before we only shifted to experience something other than our human nature?” He bent his cheek next to his brother's. He did not speak the words, but wondered,
When will that animal take over?

With a wave of his hand, Brok sent Therin back into the forest to do what he would: eat, play, sleep. Therin never appeared to be out of energy during the day, so he must sleep somewhere during the night. Ever since the trip began, Therin has wandered off more than he stayed around. The thylacine brother padded off, a low whine trailing into the distant woods.

Careful not to snap twigs as he paced the periphery of their camp, Brok focused on his duties. The party of five were thrown together quickly, he felt. They were ill-matched and under-prepared. Too small a group for anything but secretly collecting information, yet too large a group, too mixed in personalities, to get the job done easily. He wondered what might be The Few's true purpose in sending them away? The most logical answer he could think of was that they were decoys. And he didn't like that answer.