Doublesight (28 page)

“We each must shift tonight.” She threw the stick into Raik's lap. “You shift once.”

“But I'll be useless if anything goes wrong.”

“This is to make sure nothing does go wrong,” she said.

“Is that wise?” Lankor said. “Not only would Raik be an easy target, we'd be left with one less sword.”

“My other self can f-fight,” Raik said. When the others looked surprised, he added, “Just not as well.”

“Your other self? You refer to the human image before your mouse image as your other self?” Zimp leaned into her words, suspicious of Raik's reference.

Brok grew angry and lifted to a standing position using only his legs, both arms reaching into the air. “What's going on here? Are you saying that we have two different people to address?” He asked Zimp, not Raik.

Her head turned as though she heard something and everyone quieted. She shook here head and rubbed the back of her neck.

“Your sister,” Brok said. “There aren't five of us, there are seven.” He stepped back and asked, “What did she say? Are we in danger? Is Raik part enemy and part comrade?”

“Don't get so high on your horse, mister. We have no idea how wild your brother will get. He could turn on any of us, even you, at any moment.” Again, Lankor noticed Zimp start to rise and then sit back down, as if trying to appear relaxed and in charge.

“Agreed. But he's safe now. And every minute I will know just how safe. I feel his energy,” Brok said raising his hands, palms out, as though Therin's energy stood before him like a wall. “It's your turn. What did Zora say to you just now?”

Zimp blushed. She had been caught. Lankor realized that she'd been keeping a regular conversation with her sister all along. There was a pose that she struck and it finally settled into him what that pose was. He shook his head.

“Stop it,” she said. “All of you.”

“What more have you kept from us?” Lankor asked.

Raik leaned back on his hands, a glib smile across his lips.

This time when her muscles tensed Zimp did stand. She held onto her cloak with her right hand. Her shoulders slumped. “The truth,” she said.

Brok whispered, “We're a decoy.”

Zimp shot him a questioning look. “The truth about Zora. I'm still learning to hear her. Sometimes she speaks in riddles, sometimes so quietly I can barely hear her voice. I'm not always sure it's her. Other voices come in.”

“The Gods have cursed us,” Lankor said.

“I'm sorry. I was in training with Oronice. She is the Gem of the Forest. I'm afraid I'm nothing but a dull stone from the riverbed.” She meant what she said, but Raik laughed at her analogy.

She turned on him. “Laugh, but you are a traitor to us all.”

“Not me,” Raik said in defense.

“The other you?” Brok said. He turned back to Zimp. “You haven't answered my question. Are we a decoy? Are The Few creating an army as we speak? Are we about to enter a war? A war we couldn't possibly win?”

“An honorable d-death,” Raik said.

“A death all the same,” Brok said. “And what of Breel?”

“She's safer with them.” Zimp struggled with her own thoughts before exploding into words.

Lankor saw it coming and pushed his dragon image closer to the surface for protection.

“The only contact with this world that Zora has is through me and Oronice. She doesn't want to lose that contact.” Tears welled in her eyes. “And Oronice is dying. I knew this before I left. Zora haunts me. She fears for my safety on this trip, and fears for my safety in your presence. She continually tells me to return to my clan, to shift and fly away, leaving you to whatever ends may come.” Zimp let her tears fall. “She is frantic. I need her help, but it is becoming more difficult to gain any real knowledge from her. She warns me continually.” Zimp lowered her head and took a deep breath. “Do any of you have any idea what it's like being tormented by your own thoughts?”

All three of the others said, “Yes,” simultaneously, breaking the tension that they had carried the last few days.

Like a dam breaking loose, Zimp burst into laughter.

Brok reached for her and she rested into him. Her breakdown released his stress as well. He shook his head. “I fear that one day I'll awake and have to fight off my own brother.”

“I can't keep track of which human image has which thought,” Raik said. “Sometimes I fear that one is plotting against the other. There are days where I just want to die an honorable death.” He kept his chin raised into the air, apparently open to share his feeling along with the others.

Lankor sat and let it all sink in. His shoulders relaxed, his mind released its tight hold on his thoughts. When he spoke, he used his hands to illustrate his words. “My beast image is grander and more powerful than my human image. It scares me. As I become tired or angry or emotional as I have these last few days, it wants out.” He shook his head. “I want to let it out more and more every day.”

Zimp wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Why send us anywhere?” It was not a rhetorical question.

Brok allowed her to step away as she gained composure. To Lankor, Brok looked as though he let her go reluctantly. “Are we a decoy?” he asked a third time.

“I don't know, but judging Zora's response, perhaps. There's one thing I do know. We are in real danger.”

“I don't like it, then. My mouse image can't help us much. What if it's true and my mouse human is to blame for the attacks? Can we trust him?” Raik said.

“Don't you know?” Brok said.

Raik pushed his lips together. He stared directly at Brok. Then he shook his head slowly. “We have each bared a piece of our soul in this moment. That is my truth.”

“We are cursed,” Lankor said.

“We were told by The Few to return with information. If they are putting together an army, our findings will be important to the outcome of any war. They will gain strategic information.” She nodded in apology to Lankor. “If dragons are the cause of this hatred, if the humans are being controlled by dragons, or if they are killing the doublesight out of fear of the dragons, The Few must know. Of all the cities in The Great Land, Castle Weilk will hold the answers. We must complete our mission. One of us must return to the Council Grounds.” She hesitated. “Even if the rest of us die.”

30

ORO FELT SAFE propped between two of her own clan. “You should never come here alone again. We'll join you from now on,” Storret said.

Storret remained the clan's most trusted guard and scout. Oro knew of his spying. She understood that Storret held more knowledge of the clan than most. And still he could be trusted like no other. And Noot, Zimp's closest cousin, played the part of kindness in the clan. He had become a symbol of all that was good in the world. Behind them walked Arren. Oro had diluted his power through two simple moves: sending Zimp with the reconnaissance party, and suggesting Storret as commander of half the army, while Arren stayed to protect The Few.

Oro missed her own sister who had died shortly after birth. Tintse had been weak from the start, but in death she was not weak at all. It was as though the balance had been set unevenly. If not for Tintse, Oro would not have become the Gem of the Forest. The same would be true for Zimp, once she learned to hear properly.

“You will not have my burden for much longer,” she said to Storret.

“Don't suggest that you won't be with us,” he said.

Oro looked into his face. “I will always be with you.”

“He didn't mean it that way,” Noot said. “We're here,” he announced, and scooped the flap open for them to enter the council tent.

Only council members and a few others were present.

As if it suddenly became apparent to Noot that something important was about to happen, he asked, “Did you know about this?”

“I did,” Oro said.

Storret nodded.

Oro let go of each of their arms and stepped forward on shaking legs toward the front of the council tent. She heard them talking behind her, but put the sound out of her head. She winked at Tintse, her image at least, as it faded into view against the dim light from overhead.

The small crowd separated to let her pass. Her legs moved slowly. She stared forward, marking her goal in her head. It would take time to complete what she was about to do, but she was ready. Zimp needed her.

Wellock welcomed Oro to the front of the group. He held out his hand and she gripped it with her own soft palm. “Oronice, the Gem,” he said, bowing his head to her.

It had been years since she had heard Wellock speak her whole name. Zimp was never to know the truth about her grandmother, but here, in this place, with Zimp gone, Oronice felt re-anointed to her royal place with The Few.

“It is good to have you as our sage once again,” Wellock said. “You are truly the Gem of the Forest.”

“Not for long, my friend. Not for long.”

Wellock reached out and put his arms around the old woman. “We will miss you.”

“Zimp will need my help soon.” Oro looked around Wellock. “Where are the boys?”

Wellock laughed and said, “They are late. Hammadin is strategizing and Crob is deep into his morning prayers.”

“Am I early?”

“A bit, perhaps. It will give us time to talk.” Wellock left his arm around her shoulder. “So, does your whole clan know of your decision?”

“No, but I'm sure they are suspect, by now. It is better that they allow for my decision. They understand that. We all must choose our time to leave. That is the way of the crow. It is not a social thing as in some clans, but a sacred one, even though dancing occurs at both. I'm just surprised they haven't noticed how fast my health has declined. I think they have taken care of me for so long that they've fallen into step with it.”

“And who will inherit your home? Who will you suggest as your replacement? You know there are many questions yet to be answered,” he said.

“The clan will know what to do about all of that.” She glanced behind her. “Arren would like to be king of all clans, but I believe Storret, as a commander of one of the armies, will prove his worth through strategy and courage.” She lowered her head. “I am sorry that this battling between us is happening again. Do we learn nothing from the past?” After a moment of thought, she spoke up and said. “And of course, Zimp will return as sage.”

“There will be none like you, my good friend.” Wellock's eyes opened wide. “Oh, here come my fellow guides.”

Oro turned as Hammadin and Crob shuffled quickly through the crowd toward her. She immediately held her arms out to them.

Noot followed behind them. “I don't like this,” he said to the two high members.

Hammadin grabbed Oro's hand and turned to meet Noot head on. “It isn't your decision. We are here to respect and support every clan in its traditions. And you should know to respect your own clan.”

“Let me go to Zimp,” Noot said. “She's my cousin. I have the ability.”

Oro reached out to take his hand. He stood strong and sure. Funny that he had ignored how the journey had already begun for her. “Look at me,” she said. “Would you have me stop the process now, mid-stream, and have to live the rest of my life as a weak old woman? You cannot tell me that you have not noticed my decline.” She shook his hand as if to remove an answer from the motion.

“We've all known. We didn't want to believe it.” He lowered his head. “No, I would not wish for you to remain like this.” His eyes turned up toward her. “But I would care for you if you chose differently, even now.”

“There are no other women ready to step up, to lead our clan or to council The Few.” She looked over her shoulder. “You will be the first male to hold the post of High Sage until Zimp returns. The crow image doublesight need your voice.”

Arren stepped from the crowd and objected. “Noot is too weak to become sage.”

“Too peaceful, you mean. You, Arren, would have us galloping off to war before we find that there is one. We must plan and wait for Zimp and her group to warn us if the danger is great. Noot is not weak. He will hold the intention of peace and will stand strong to that intention.” She turned back to address Noot.

“I will proudly serve The Few,” he said.

“You, my friend, will lead us to peace or to victory with Storret's help.” She let go of his hand.

Storret stood at a distance from them. He stared. Said nothing.

Oro had words for Storret, as well, but that was for later.

Breel reached from the crowd and took Storret's hand in hers. Oro smiled at Breel, even as sadness swept over the girl's face. Did she know the future as well?

Oro turned away from them all. “Let us begin.”

Wellock took center stage and lifted his arms into the air over his head. Several people entered with torches and placed them at the four corners of the tent. Flowers and herbs were carried forward in large bowls and placed in front of Oro. Powders, liquids, and pastes were brought in on a flattened plank with hollowed areas for each substance. A short table and chair awaited her so that she could sit to perform the ritual.

Oro motioned for the torches to be put out. She lighted five candles that she pulled from her gown pocket, and placed them in the shape of a square with one candle in the center. She motioned for Crob to empty a flower bowl and hand it to her. With the bowl in front of her, Oro nodded to Arren, Storret, and Noot. The chanting began.

She focused on her work, gray hair hanging over her face, nimble fingers pulling a pinch of this and two of that. Oro found the dried ground entrails of a squirrel and shoveled a fingernail full into the bowl. She pointed and Crob handed her the flowers. She shook them over her mixture. Pollen fell into the bowl and hovered over it, floating in the air. Moving the flowers over the candles, she shook them again and sparks flew, tiny pops and snaps joined the chanting.

Wellock and Hammadin stood behind Oro. She could feel their presence. In her own clucking and cawing, not the language of crow but a rendition of it, Oro fell into a meditation, a journey. Her hands became more animated as she scooped paste into the bowl, then one
liquid and another in small portions. She was barely aware of which elements she used and which went unused. This was how true magic was done.