Doublesight (35 page)

“The ale has driven my sister a bit mad,” he said.

Zimp noticed the quiet in the room and the eyes that were on her. A few castle guards got up from a table in one of the other corners.

Brok appeared magically at her other side. “We're leaving,” he said more to Lankor than to Zimp. She was being pulled along between them.

The guards rushed around some tables, but Lankor, Zimp, and Brok passed through the front door well ahead of them.

“This way,” Lankor led them down the street and up an alley.

Zimp ran with them, the physical motion bringing her back tothe physical world. When she found her own feet again, the men let go of her arms. Twisting down another side street they stopped and waited.

The sound of men running got louder. When four of the guards turned the corner, their swords raised, they met with simultaneous blows from Lankor and Brok. Two of the guards were knocked to the ground. Zimp slipped her knife over the throat of a third. The fourth came down across Lankor's shoulder with the hilt of his sword. He was too close to do anything else, allowing Lankor to place his elbow into the man's ear with enough force to kill him. Brok grabbed the dropped sword of the man who attacked Lankor and dived in to kill the other two guards.

“We've got to get out of here.” Zimp looked around. “Where's Raik?”

“The Gods have damned us,” Brok said.

“No, I have,” Zimp said.

“You never should have mentioned Oronice. I believe there were those in the room who know she's a doublesight. It is difficult to hide that fact.” Brok took a breath. “I think you might want to let me lead the group. You are becoming unstable with all of your other-realm contact.”

“I don't know,” Zimp said. “Right now, we have to find Raik and stay out of the way. We may have to leave altogether. We may have lost our chance to learn anything.”

Brok and Lankor looked at each other. “While you were blubbering, we were listening to conversations about what's going on here. But we have to hide for the night first. There has got to be a place we can stay.”

“The stables,” Lankor said.

“What about Therin?” Brok didn't wait for an answer. He slapped Lankor's shoulder. “I'm going back to get him. You two go to the stables and I'll meet you there soon.”

“Raik?” Zimp said.

“He just became an enemy,” Brok said.

36

“IT'S HAPPENING AGAIN,” Zimp said.

Lankor grabbed her hand and felt the soft flesh of her palm against his rough skin. He hesitated a moment and looked into her eyes but they were already blank. He worried that, in her trance, she might be able to sense his feelings, the ones he fought to hide. But she didn't need to know how he felt about her. Not now. It would only complicate things.

He glanced up and down the alley and, convinced that no other guards were coming for them, pulled Zimp up the street, around a corner, and down another side alley in a loop that would deposit them at the rear of the stables.

She whispered words that made no sense, disconnected and jumbled. At one point she stopped Lankor and shook her head violently as though trying to dispel an insect from her ears. Despite her occasional confusion, Zimp appeared to be coherent much of the time, at least enough to run without his help. He held to her hand just in case she tried to veer off in another direction.

Lankor smelled the odor of hay and straw as they approached the stables. A horse nickered, and several others stirred inside their stalls. The two doublesight slipped through a crack in the rear door. Lankor sat Zimp on a stool and whispered for her to stay there until he checked the place out. She leaned against the wall and nodded.

He searched as quietly as he could around the stables. It appeared empty enough. He wished they had left Therin in the cage that stood on a wagon near one of the stalls. Then Brok would have had no
reason to separate from them. He never should have allowed Brok to rush off as he did.

Lankor picked through the blacksmith's workspace. He found his staff and grabbed a poker sticking from a bucket near the anvil.

Saddlebags and packs hung on the stall doors. A horse inside one of the stalls came over and put his head over the door to sniff at Lankor's cheek. He patted its muzzle while pulling a strip of jerky from his saddlebag.

On his way back toward Zimp, he wondered why the smith would leave the stable so vulnerable. He ripped the jerky with his teeth. Coming around the corner of a stall, he saw Zimp sitting upright with her eyes wide and a look of surprise on her face. “It's just me,” he said.

From either side of Zimp, guards stepped into the dim light. Each had a sword drawn, even though their numbers didn't warrant such readiness. One guard's dagger was held near Zimp's neck. Even a quick shift would leave her defenseless.

Lankor threw down the jerky and the poker he had grabbed for Zimp and hefted the staff into both hands. If he attempted a shift, he'd be killed instantly. The larger the beast the slower the shift, he thought, although he'd learned that wasn't true. He'd be slain before he could form the scales that could protect him. But, should he at least try to fight back with his human image? What of their mission? Someone had to make it back to The Few to report their meager findings.

“Hold there,” he heard from behind. When he turned seven other guards advanced on him from the rear. Lankor took a few more steps toward Zimp and saw a young boy, obviously the stable boy, standing between two guards off to Zimp's left. The stable had been occupied when they arrived.

Zimp reached out for Lankor as he got closer, and he helped her to stand. One of the guards grabbed his staff. There were too many of them and Zimp would be too easy to harm had Lankor tried to fight back. He said a silent prayer that Brok had found Therin and escaped.

Marched out of the stables and down the main street toward the castle, Lankor and Zimp were stared at. Vendors and their families, shop owners, other guards lined the road. “What's wrong here?” Zimp asked Lankor in an almost inaudible voice.

“They are nearly silent. Like today,” he said. A rumbling of voices and nothing more rose around them. The people whispered and pointed. They held their children close.

“They feel sorry for us. If they hated us they'd throw things, they'd yell insults.” Zimp stumbled and one of the guards reached out to help her. She had a tear in her eye as she looked at Lankor again. “They are not afraid of us. They feel pity as though we have been cursed rather than blessed.”

“Haven't we?” Lankor said. “In many ways we are the outcasts.”

“Is that your deepest sense?”

He turned toward her. “It has been my life. Only now, when The Few need us, am I even allowed to travel outside The Lost. Even now, I am feared but useful against a greater fear, a dragon who kills, a dragon who is angry. A dragon, my dear crow-woman, who is not a dragon at all.”

“What do you mean?”

“These people believe that the old doublesight that are coming alive are from Memory Tower. The burial grounds of the grotesque. The mass graves of gargoyles and demons that encircle the tower. The most feared doublesight, they believe, lives in the castle.”

“They fear retribution if they torment us. It is hatred they feel. They are afraid to show it,” Zimp said.

“Yes. If they show their true feelings, they might be the next to die. If there is any sadness in their eyes it is not directed toward us but toward themselves and their misfortunate lot to be here at all. But there is nothing they can do. This is their life, their livelihood,” Lankor said as they approached the castle doors.

“What lives here?”

Lankor leaned close to Zimp. “A gryphon.”

Zimp closed her eyes. Lankor felt pain enter his heart. She didn't have to speak. He knew what she feared. It was the identical fear that Raik had, a fear that The Great Land had tricked them all, had turned back time. She feared that all the beasts of old were returning. The doublesight had not only been cursed once, but twice. She didn't need to say that the gryphon posed a threat to doublesight and humans alike. Fear fueled the fire of hatred, and hatred could be turned in any direction once it appeared in full strength.

At the castle, guards lined the halls. Lankor and Zimp were lead to a thin set of stairs that wound upward. One guard peeled off, drew his dagger, and held onto Zimp's arm as she mounted the first stone step. Her shoulders drooped and her head hung down.

Lankor sensed a similar invisible weight. The guard behind him had his sword unsheathed and at the ready. The only chance they had would be if they were left alone. That wasn't likely to happen. And even a dragon of his size couldn't pound his way through the stone walls around him.

At the top of the stairs, Zimp's guard dragged her through a hallway. She stumbled and shook her head. “No,” she said.

Lankor noticed that the doors were wooden. He heard scuffling sounds behind some of them. The guard next to him said, “She's crazy like them all.”

Another guard warned that guard to stand down. “Or you'll be gone by morning,” he said.

Lankor's guard shivered and moaned. “Horrible creatures,” he muttered.

The friend shook his head in concern.

Two doors opened ahead of them into a central chamber. At the far end of the room sat two throne-like chairs decorated in bright colors and swirling designs. A cushion of red cloth garnished each, and on the cushions sat two men, obviously father and son, their resemblances many.

As the guards with Zimp and Lankor flanked the doublesight, Lankor whispered, “Who are they?”

Zimp glanced at him, a blank look in her eyes. She didn't even hear his words.

The guards stopped about twenty feet from the thrones. One must have been King Belford, the older of the two. He looked worn. Tired. Depleted of strength. His clothes hung loosely on his body from weight loss. Bags drooped under eyes surrounded by wrinkles. The other, the son, sat strong and healthy next to the father. Lankor didn't need to guess who had control over the castle, or who had their subjects fearful and wary.

The young man on the left sat forward in his chair. “Doublesight,” he said in disgust. He held his position there, leaning toward his
captors. “Your grotesque appetites and needs will no longer be tolerated in The Great Land.”

“We are harmless and peaceful,” Lankor said.

The guard poked his sword into Lankor's side until it hurt. “Silence.”

The young man laughed and sat back in his throne. He brought one hand to his chin, and placed a single finger across his lips. “What nasty beast are you?”

Lankor remained silent.

“And your crow-friend,” he said.

Lankor pulled away from the sword but another guard placed a sword near his neck.

“Oh, did I guess correctly?” The younger man stood. A long red cape fell around him. “She does have good taste for color,” he said referencing Zimp's red cloak. “But it is rather torn and dirty. What was I to expect?”

He stepped down to floor level, about ten feet in front of Lankor. “And you? Are you the thylacine or the dragon?” He paced back and forth in front of Lankor and Zimp.

She lifted her head and Lankor knew what she was doing. It didn't take long either. Her connection to the other realm had been strong since before they arrived. “The gryphon,” she said, confirming what Lankor had guessed, but also feared. The king's son was the threat. But why? As the King's son, he already had anything he wanted. And as a doublesight, why would he wish to wipe them out?

“It was only a matter of how long it would take for you to notice my etheric body, my friend, Zimp.”

“Raik,” Lankor said.

“How perceptive.” The man snapped his fingers and three guards brought Raik from a side door. His hands were tied behind him.

Raik flowed across the floor next to the guards. His head cocked to one side and his narrowed eyes warned of contempt.

Lankor knew Raik's next image was that of the copperhead. “He brought us to you,” Lankor said. “You repay him like this?”

“If he betrayed you, he'd betray me. You see, there are some doublesight that have hungers you can't imagine. Needs you would never understand.” The man gritted his teeth and leaned with
narrowed eyes at Lankor. Enunciating each word, the man said, “He. Can't. Help. Himself.” He swung his arm toward Raik, pointing at him. “He's a demon, a gargoyle. I don't care what you
think
he is. He should not be alive. Pure doublesight do not have two images. Even he knows that. Ask him.”

Raik took a step forward and said, “It's over.” He began his shift. His head and body began to shrink. His ropes slipped from his wrists and he fell to his knees.

The king's son made a quick slice across the air and one of Raik's guards leaned back, slid a sword from its sheath, and sliced the sword easily through Raik's shifting neck. As his head and body fell forward they returned to their human image.

“His children,” Zimp said in a semiconscious state.

“Stupid man.” The son turned back to Lankor and Zimp. “His children are cursed too. You all are. Especially you,” he pointed at Lankor.

“And you?” Lankor said.

“I will be the last. When I die, The Great Land will finally be rid of us all. No one will need to suffer any longer.”

“In peace we do not suffer,” Zimp said.

“Enough, Draklan,” said King Belford. “Put them into the dungeon. Kill them. But stop this.” He stood to go.

Draklan snapped his fingers again and several men dressed in robes came from behind the thrones to help the king depart.

“I believe his disgust of us came early today,” Draklan said. He turned back to Zimp. “My dear beauty, you are the last of the peaceful, as you say, doublesight. You might recall that the doublesight have fought in wars before. They have killed before. You have killed as well.”

“In self-defense,” she said.

He hesitated as though he were going to stop talking. “Killing is killing. In self-defense. In hatred. In fear.” His body lifted to full height and his shoulders tensed under some invisible strain. “In hunger for flesh? You have no idea what is being born, or what has been born to this land.” He turned and his cape floated behind him as he walked away. “You might think I'm a horrible sight, but you haven't seen the truth of what the doublesight has brought upon us.”
He walked through a back door out of the chamber. Just before the door closed, he yelled out, “Show them!”