Doublesight (30 page)

The copperhead uncoiled and appeared to rest.

“We eat,” Zimp said.

The three of them ignored Raik as they set camp and tended the horses.

Zimp pointed when she saw Raik move closer to the edge of camp. “There he goes,” she said.

The snake lifted its head as it began to shift back. For a moment the copperhead held a small version of Raik's head. The rest of the shift increased in speed until he was whole.

“Therin could have eaten you,” Brok said.

Raik smiled.

Zimp sensed that a different person sat with them. “How much of our conversation do you remember?”

Raik's eyes lowered as he shied from her attention. “Enough,” he said.

She didn't like the shiftiness in his eyes and began to wonder about her decision concerning his single shift. “Will you be able to spend time with Therin and Brok without fear?”

Raik glanced at each of the others. “Not without fear.” He swallowed. “But I'm a soldier in any form and will do what I am asked, for now.”

“There is no ‘for now’ in following orders,” Brok said. “If I have to spend that much time with you, I don't want to have to watch my back.”

Raik shot a look at Lankor. “I saw what you did. Now we're talking about a warrior. If I were him,” he said to the others, “I'd never be in human image.”

“If I were him, I'd never want to be in beast image,” Zimp said.

“Did you hear that we're not being followed?” Brok said. “No bandits. Again.”

Raik's eyes glanced left and right. “You can't keep blaming me for that.”

“Isn't it your fault?” Brok said rushing toward Raik and bearing down on him as though about to hit him across the face.

Raik sunk toward the ground. His shoulders visibly shivered, his jaw set. And with the swiftness of a frightened mouse, Raik pulled a blade from his boot, leaped up and struck at Brok, slicing the sleeve of his shirt and into his arm.

Brok yelped, the sound of a thylacine and Zimp feared he would change. Before she could yell for them to stop, Lankor's staff dropped between them. “Halt,” he said.

The two men stood opposite one another. Raik shook and held his knife outstretched. Brok, calmer and less frightened, gripped his cut arm.

Lankor lifted his staff and let it push against Raik gently as the snake man stepped backwards.

Brok did not move.

“What did you have to do with this?” Lankor asked the shaking Raik.

Shock shot through Zimp, as Lankor had stood up for Raik all along. Had the little man gone too far in placing them in danger?

“At last, you notice his treachery,” Brok said.

Lankor swung his staff in Brok's direction, causing him to jump backwards. “It's my question. Stay out of it.”

Raik's eyes narrowed again, this time toward Lankor.

Zimp saw something familiar in his stare. Raik's face changed. The doublesight about to be a mouse actually looked different than the one about to be a snake. She had not noticed the nuances of change before, the rounding off of the chin, the tightening of the eyes, thinning of the lips. This man standing before her looked vaguely familiar. As she watched his face, his body changed too. Not a physical change as much as a change in stance and attitude. A slyness.

“The doublesight are animals,” he said, causing each of them to look amazed.

“What?” Lankor said.

“The doublesight are reverting back into demons, mixed-beasts, anomalies.” Raik laughed like someone frightened. “If the humans don't kill us, we'll kill each other.” His head shook. “Or bear monsters instead of children.” He pointed at Lankor. “Look at you. I can see the pain in your eyes. It's always there even before you shift. Your family has suffered enough. My family has suffered enough.”

With his words, Zimp recalled the image of the man standing behind the archers who attacked her clan weeks before. “You!” she shouted at him. “You led the attack on our clan!” She rushed him and leaped at his head, casting his knife from his hand using her arm. She clawed at his face before Lankor had the opportunity to grip her shoulder with one of his hands and drag her away.

“It's personal now,” Brok said.

Zimp turned on him, then. “You stinking, Godless beast,” she said before catching her own words.

Lankor held tight to her shoulder until she twisted into him and pounded his chest.

Brok walked over to Raik and shoved him to the ground. Another step and he placed a hand on Zimp's head. “How can we help?” he said.

She could feel hate rising inside her. She turned on Raik again, but did not step away from Lankor. She heard the voice of Zora more clearly than ever before. Not a whisper. Not a mumble. “Do not kill him yet,” she said, and Zimp felt comfort in her sister's final word.

Lankor shook his head in disgust. “Do you suppose they know that we're doublesight?”

“No,” Raik said. “Only that we are coming.”

“What shall we do?” Lankor asked Zimp, still holding her.

Her lips and cheeks tightened, holding back her anger, her fear, her sorrow. “Well, my big brother,” she said entering into her new role, “we carry on.”

“You are a leader,” Brok said. He rubbed her head.

“True doublesight do not kill other doublesight unless they pose a threat,” she said to Raik. “
You
are not a true doublesight.” Zimp pointed at Therin, the first time she'd ever addressed him directly, and asked, “Do you understand my words?”

Therin cocked his head and looked up at her in response.

Brok said, “I think he understands well enough.”

Zimp said, “Watch Raik tonight. If he moves, eat him.”

Shock crossed Raik's face. She felt a touch of satisfaction from his reaction.

“Let's eat and get a good night's rest,” she said.

32

LANKOR FELT BETRAYED. He had stood up for Raik on several occasions because he had felt an unexplainable connection with him. He felt as though they had something in common. His judgment had been wrong. Raik's latest announcement proved just how wrong Lankor had been. That was his life story.

No wonder Rend's frustration always showed through whenever Lankor made a decision for himself. Both his parents and his brother treated him like a child, as though he was just about to do something stupid. They warned him to be wary of his actions, reminded him of his loyalties, and continually attempted to settle his rising passions.

No wonder The Few selected Zimp as leader, instead of him. She thought every decision through. She could listen to those she traveled with and then decide the next step in their journey while holding to an internal goal that she never released.

And, yes, he felt that he should have been selected leader over Brok or Raik: Raik, because he was a soldier and would always turn to fight his way through a problem, and Brok, because he boiled beneath his show of outer calm. Lankor wasn't fooled by the thylacine's feigned loyalty at all. Once that doublesight grew angry, it would be difficult to keep him from slaying anything in his path, especially if what was in his path was human.

He glanced around the camp. Each person held an image far wilder than their human image. He understood why singlesight humans were fearful of the doublesight. Lankor sensed the animal in each of them, now that he knew its shape. He could pick these doublesight from a crowd with a simple shift in his perception. He'd
always known he could do that while living in The Lost, but this extended knowledge amazed him in a way he couldn't explain. This newfound talent made him feel powerful and strong on the one hand, and innocent on the other. What other power might he gain? Would he someday be able to hear the dead like Zimp does?

Lankor became depressed about his own inability to judge people. Growing up in The Lost, with only dragon clan doublesight, had left him at a disability to live in The Great Land with other doublesight, let alone other humans. Did his comrades find him odd or quirky? Did they find him unsociable? Regardless of their attempts to banter and know one another, Lankor felt left out, alone, even among these brothers and sisters of the doublesight.

He slid a hand into a pouch from his saddlebag and pulled out a coarse and pitted rock. He rolled it between his fingers, and closed his eyes and recalled his homeland while the others pulled bread and jerky from their bags. He heard the lightness of footsteps and the sound of someone sitting beside him.

“What do you have there?” Zimp asked.

Lankor opened his eyes. He leaned on one elbow and Zimp sat close to him. He could smell her, the odor of scented candles, pine and peppermint.

She reached for his rock and he let her slip it from his fingers, touching hers for a long moment while doing so. The touch surprised him. She felt soft, almost feathery. The idea seemed strange but somehow accurate that she would feel that way to him, which meant that he must feel either scaled or like a thin piece of skin, like a bat's wing. Which was it?

“Is this from your homeland?”

“From The Lost, yes,” he said.

Zimp shifted her weight and stretched one leg out in front of her as she slid her two fingers into the pouch she wore at her waist.

Lankor watched her leg and followed the length of it from her slender foot to her muscled thigh, to her thin waist. Her fingers removed a crystal of deep indigo with specks of gold. Even the dim light of evening caused it to sparkle.

“We sometimes find these on the beaches near the Belt of the Lakes,” she said.

“Where you come from?”

“Yes, it's a small land mass that stands between the southern end of Western Stilth Alshore Lake and Diamond Lake.”

Lankor cocked his head.

“Lissland,” she said in answer.

He let her place it into his hand and it felt heavier than it appeared. Rolling it between his fingers, the stone sparkled and blinked at him. “Everything you own seems magical to me.” He glanced into her face.

Zimp reached for the stone and returned his in the same motion. Her lips tightened and she made a quick nod of her head. She pushed to her knees, about to scoot over to her bedroll.

Lankor reached out and touched her hand. “Tell me, what do I feel like to you?”

Understanding spread over her face. Her eyes narrowed and her hand slid from his. She appeared scared to answer the question then opened her mouth to speak. “Your hands are soft and light, almost unbelievably so for a man who spends his life in the rough terrain of The Lost. But your chest is the opposite. You want to know if you feel like your beast image,” she said. “And the answer is yes. Thick and hard. Again, the feel of your chest defies how it looks.” She turned away and reached for her dinner.

“That was touching,” Raik said.

Therin swung his head toward Raik as he spoke.

“I don't like this arrangement,” Raik said.

Brok smiled at the snake, now mouse, doublesight. “I think my brother does.”

Zimp patted her bedroll and stretched it smooth. She leaned back and rested her head. “When you're through eating…” she began.

Brok interrupted. “Take first watch.”

Zimp didn't answer.

Lankor replaced his rock and lay on his back. He felt enclosed with the trees rising all around him. Even in their beauty, they were like bars of a cage. The wind blew motion into everything around him. He smelled the burned bush, which reminded him of his shift. He felt relaxed afterward even though he didn't get to fly anywhere as Zimp had. His shoulders rolled back and flattened along the ground. His eyes closed until it was time for his watch, and Zimp woke him with a soft whisper.

He opened his eyes and her face leaned close to his.

“You awake?” she said.

Lankor nodded and she backed away. “I don't think we'll have any trouble. We haven't lately,” she said.

“I thought I had second watch,” he said.

“After you fell asleep, I changed it.” She smiled. “I know you like to see the sun rise.”

“Better if there were a cliff nearby.” He rose to a sitting position and quickly rolled his bed into a bundle and stuffed it next to his saddlebag. He reached in and grabbed some jerky, held it up so that Zimp could see it, and said, “Energy for my watch.”

She made the sound of a whispered laugh then patted his shoulder. “Whatever it takes, big brother,” she said.

As Lankor got to his feet, Zimp lay on her side and slipped her blanket over her shoulders. She fell asleep almost instantly, her breathing shallow and long.

Lankor's watch must have been the shortest of the three, because he barely made five rounds of the camp when the rising sound of the birds’ morning song began in the distance. He had heard few nocturnal animals rustling around and concluded that this area, closest to Castle Weilk, must have been well hunted.

He woke everyone and they cleared the area in relative silence.

Once the horses were also ready for the morning's travel, Zimp pulled the group into a circle and lit two candles and set them on the ground. She pointed at each in turn, “A candle for peace and one for courage.” She lit each of them. “Please, today's prayers must be your own and in silence.” She lowered her head and opened her hands palms up.

Lankor thought about the day ahead of them, their trip thus far, the council and The Few, his travels with his family, his home, and the courage Nayman had when he needed it. Lankor asked for that courage, to risk his own life for the life of another. But instead of asking for peace, he asked to stay reminded to hold his power in check. The rest of the time he listened to the sound of the forest and felt the warmth of the sun.

After their short silence, Zimp pinched each flame out. The horses ready, the four of them mounted and rode toward the compound of Castle Weilk.

There appeared to be many roads and paths that led to the castle stronghold. Lankor and Zimp rode ahead and by mid-morning stepped into a broad and ravaged flatland. He could see fields off to his right in the distance. Small wooden shacks lifted like strange growths from the golden grain that grew there. Next to each shack grew sections of dark green, yellow-green, and an area that bore a blue haze, all coming together to create a patchwork of color.

“Those are the gardens of the slaves,” Zimp said.