Doublesight (6 page)

He stepped toward Zimp. “It's all right, Breel. For now.” He kneeled next to Therin and stroked along the underside of the thylacine's neck. “It's safe. Just sit for a moment.”

Therin sat and Brok stood with Breel. She held to him with both her arms wrapped around one of his. Her hair fell in tangled brown curls. Shorter than Brok, Breel appeared younger as well, and slight. Her tan clothing was soiled and tattered at the edges.

“Stay with Therin,” Brok said. He slipped from Breel's grip and took a few steps closer to Zimp, who took an equal number of steps toward him.

Zimp's heart raced. She saw how Brok's wide mouth could easily match the enormous gape of Therin's. She had never been that close to a thylacine before, let alone a thylacine doublesight. She thought that she could feel heat coming from Brok's body.

A breeze kicked up and blew Zimp's red cloak to the side. It snapped and fluttered. Her black hair twirled around her face. She reached around with one arm to hold the cloak close to her side. Staring into Brok's eyes as they both took one cautious step after another, Zimp noticed that the color of his clothes matched the grayish-brown of Therin's coat. His vest even bore the same dark brown stripes of the thylacine. She feared that he wore a thylacine pelt. How barbaric. Did they purposefully kill the animal that bears their own beast image? What would be the reason? Once the beast became extinct, the doublesight would no longer exist, either.

She stood fast for a moment and Brok mirrored her stillness.

The sun shook to her left, behind the heat waves lifting from the lake. Halfway into the lake and appearing to sink faster every moment, the apricot-tinted light cast a strange glow over the three thylacines. Shadows sliding up hill grew longer as the doublesight stood and talked.

Brok cocked his head toward Zimp as though sizing her up. He turned slightly to the left and right.

Breel, kneeling next to Therin with her arms around his neck, let one word slip from her lips. “Brok.”

He spun around, crouched like an animal. Several men from the crow clan had closed in on Breel. “Therin,” Brok said.

Therin burst toward the men who had surrounded them, knocking Breel back onto the ground. He made a sickening cough-like bark as he advanced.

“Wait,” Zimp said. She yelled to the men, “Stand down. Open space for them to leave.”

Brok turned back and resumed his former position. “How do you plan to help us?”

Zimp's hands shook and her breathing was uneven. “I don't know exactly. I am the messenger. I was instructed to ask that you camp with us this evening and to let you know that it was safe.” She pointed toward Therin. “Safe for you. I'm not convinced that it would be safe for us.”

“He's protecting his sister, that's all.” Brok's eyes narrowed. “But don't rest long. We are hunters.” He opened his arms as if to indicate that he had no weapon. “We may look unarmed, but we are not vulnerable.”

“You don't need to threaten us,” Zimp said. “It's an offering.” The other ten with her were regrouping near Zimp where Brok could see them. “See,” she said. “It is safe.”

Brok motioned for Breel and Therin to join him. “Who sends the message if you are the messenger?”

“Oronice the Gem,” Zimp announced.

Brok turned and smiled at Breel who looked confused. “I know of The Gem of the Forest,” Brok said, as he turned back around. “She is old. My father thought that she had died.”

“Oronice is very much alive.” Zimp advanced a few more steps and held her arm out toward Brok. It was difficult to hold steady. Her arm waved like a branch in a wind. “Then it is agreed?” she said.

Brok reached toward her forearm. “We have never killed a crow. Not while in human or thylacine form.”

“But you are predators and capable of such acts,” she said.

“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 animals 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.”