Doublesight

  Praise for Doublesight

  “Lately fantasy rarely surprises and seldom delights, but Terry Persun's novel Doublesight does both and more. Richly textural, complicated in character, and presenting a world unlike any other, this debut imbues new blood into the genre. It is a stunning fantasy for the new millennium.”

  —James Rollins, New York Times bestselling author of The Eye of God

  “Persun's captivating new fantasy raises the art of shape shifting to a new level. Enter the world of Doublesight where man and animal are one. A fresh adventure awaits!”

  —Janet Lee Carey, author of Dragonswood

  Copyright 2013 Terry Persun

  * * *

  This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.

  Attribution — You must attribute the work in the manner specified by the author or licensor (but not in any way that suggests that they endorse you or your use of the work).

  Noncommercial — You may not use this work for commercial purposes.

  No Derivative Works — You may not alter, transform, or build upon this work.

  Inquiries about additional permissions should be directed to: [email protected]

  * * *

  Cover Design by Greg Simanson

  Edited by Richard Mandel

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.

  PRINT ISBN 978-1-62015-114-3

  EPUB ISBN 978-1-62015-104-4

  For further information regarding permissions, please contact

  [email protected].

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2013933266

  I'd like to thank Catherine for giving me space to write, Nicole for keeping me on-task, Terry and Mark for their encouragement, and Richard Mandel and Ken Davis for their editing skills. I would also like to thank Mark Mandell for looking over several beginnings to this book before I got it right.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  About the Author

  1

  IT APPEARED TO BE A PERFECT MORNING. The crescent sun pulled itself over the peaked mountains and lay gold across the branches of the trees. A slight breeze caused leaves to quake. Members of the crow clan, loving sunrise, perched in the trees. As humans they had made a great haul the day before, stealing more than usual and escaping the village at night, unnoticed in their multi-colored caravan of wagons.

  A low fog settled in the valley and along the Lorensak River several miles ahead where only the tops of trees were visible. On the hillside the air felt crisp and clear. Other birds awakened to the morning as well. Deeper into the woods behind the crows came the songs and chatters of those birds also rising to greet the sun, but Zimp could hear only the cawing of her clan as though they could drag the sun up the sky with their voices. The trees were alive with crows.

  She hopped to the end of a branch and ruffled her feathers, leaned into sound as it came from her throat. Her twin sister Zora perched beside her. The cawing rose as over the distant mountains the sun, no longer a crescent, broke loose full and round, a blazing orb. A wave of crows lifted from behind her and flew closer to the wood's edge. Zimp's cousins, uncles, aunts circled above and landed in the cottonwoods, aspen, and pines near her. Zora left her side, glided to a nearby branch, and held fast.

  The air snapped with a start. Zimp didn't see where the sound came from, but many of her clan lifted into the sky, a black wave. Another snap and thwang brought an arrow into a branch in a cottonwood to her left. Zimp turned to see where the sound had originated as two dozen men stepped from behind a grove of trees not a hundred yards away. Why had no one seen them? she wondered. Another six arrows slid into the sky, one hitting a crow flying overhead who attempted to warn the clan. Zimp heard a wing snap.

  The crow paused in the sky for a moment. The wing grew fingers and then pushed into the open sky as an arm. There were two arms, then the lengthening of legs. All this occurred while the crow fell from the sky. The arrow had hit her cousin Lim in the shoulder but must have produced enough pain that he couldn't maintain his crow image. The arrow wasn't a mortal wound, but the fall would be.

  There was nothing she could do to help. Before long three other clansmen shifted into human form and fell from the sky. Cawing mixed with human screams. The sight shocked her into immobility for a moment. She felt her crow instinct push against her human consciousness. She couldn't allow her crow form to take over her mind completely or there would be no turning back. She shook her head. The screaming became louder as more clansmen were shot from the sky, shifting to human form as they fell earthward. Then she heard a familiar voice.

  Zora let out a moan.

  Zimp glided to the branch where Zora's crow image had perched only a second before. Now, a human hand, slender and strong, held to a thin branch as legs formed and a torso took shape.

  Zimp placed a wing over Zora's hand and began to shift. She held tight to her sister as her body changed and held close to the branch they were both on. More screams filled the crisp morning sky. Zimp glanced around. The sky grew black with crows, many of which had been hit with arrows and were in various stages of shifting to their human shapes. A rain of human bodies fell, some crashing through branches and getting hung up in the trees, others hitting the ground with the clear thud of a dead body. Another flurry of arrows entered the sacred sky. The wind picked up.

  Zora's eyes bulged with fear and her hands gripped the branch under Zimp's firm grasp.

  Zimp wrapped her legs around the rough corrugation of the branch. Her red cloak fell to one side, and her chin drove into the branch. She saw that the arrow had hit close to her sister's heart. She stared into her own face: the high cheekbones, the thin slanted eyes, the full, lightly parted lips. The branch bent with their combined weight. “Hold tight, Zora. I'm right here.” Zimp slid forward and let one hand slide down Zora's arm for a better grip.

  Another arrow pierced Zora's neck. Her eyes shocked the air with a show of pain. Her grip weakened. A sliver of blood trickled from the corner of Zora's lips, and she released the branch.

  Zimp held fast and screamed. The branch lowered as she pushed forward to better hold Zora from falling. The branch dropped with added momentum and snapped loose from the tree. Zimp held tight to Zora's arm and squeezed her legs around the branch until all three slammed into a lower limb. Her grip failed. Zora fell toward ground, the branch slipped between the other limbs of the tree, and Zimp rolled into the next br
anch, slamming her back, knocking the wind from her. She fell farther and her body wrapped around another limb that she clutched using her arms and legs. Arrows sang to her left and right. She threw a leg over the branch to bring her upright and breathed in tree's dust. She hadn't seen Zora drop, but could now see her body lying crooked in the underbrush. The small limb they had held to, first as crows and then as humans, lay at her side. It appeared to be nothing but a twig next to Zora's human form.

  The archers stood together. Zimp placed the intention into her mind to memorize their faces. She slid down the branch close to the trunk of the tree and shifted slowly into her crow image. An arrow glanced the tree trunk above her head. Many of her clan still held to branches, wounded or dying. She noticed some of them turning back into crow image. A good sign. Others were already far in the distance, flying toward the river.

  The morning light opened in patches through the crow flight. Zimp's small head and beak peaked around the tree. She could feel instinct shoving against her human intention and thought to fly away, follow her clan. But there was still enough of a human hold, a determination, to keep her to her plan.

  She glided closer to the archers, her flight taking her behind a large cottonwood where it would be difficult for them to see her. She landed, heart racing, fear building. The bones of her tiny feet lay across a thin limb as her body came to rest. She had little time. The fight against instinct was great. She knew that if her fear continued to escalate she might remain in her crow image permanently, losing her natural human image, her whole human life. She couldn't allow her survival instinct to push her that far.

  She peered at the men and saw that they were dressed similarly to those in the village she and her clan had robbed. Another man, unarmed except for a broad sword and differently dressed, stood back from the others. She shook her head. She was losing human thought to the increased heartbeat of the frightened crow. She had to either shift or retreat. She chose to retreat.

  Zimp pushed straight up into the thicker part of the pine, dodging the close-set branches. Apparently unseen, she broke into the sky and headed into the valley. She glanced back at the carnage. Some of the bodies writhed in pain; some held tightly to branches and took additional arrows. She felt unbelievable sorrow for her sister. Even as a crow, love crept through as a human emotion. It was so strong a sensation that she nearly shifted. She dived and tried to release the human feelings growing inside her. But then, another thought came. Her grandmother. Another human attachment. Too many human thoughts came at once.

  Zimp plunged to the ground and landed in a patch of tall grass halfway down the valley. She shifted into human form, allowing the thoughts to rush into her mind. Planning and thinking were best done in human form. She needed a rest. This was one time where she wished she hadn't worn her red cloak. She removed it and tucked it under her arm while she hunkered down as close to the ground as she could. Turning back, she noticed no arrows bursting into the sky. A few of her clan still clung to tree branches, but from this distance she couldn't tell who they were.

  “Zimp?” A voice came at her from within the grass behind her. She turned. Noot crawled into view. He wore a brown vest and brown shirt. His green pants had a patch of red spreading over them. He looked at it. “A scratch. I was so scared I had to shift before I stayed in crow image. I didn't know what was happening for a long while. I got hit in the middle of shifting, then landed in some underbrush and crawled out.”

  “You crawled all the way down here?” Zimp said.

  “No. I shifted back and flew part way.” He shook his head. And his hands were shaking. “I'm too scared to want to stay in crow image. I'd never come back.”

  Noot had always been the more timid one in the clan. Zimp sat next to him. “We need to check on the others. Oro, especially.”

  “What do you think happened?”

  “Someone knew we were doublesight,” she said.

  “How do you know?”

  “I saw someone standing back from the archers. He was trying to stay hidden and I couldn't make out his facial features, but I know that's what happened. The villagers would never have known otherwise. They were human only. I saw no other doublesight while we were there.”

  “He must have been hiding somewhere,” Noot said.

  “Yes. But where? And why would another doublesight do that?” she said.

  Noot must have been gaining his composure because he laughed. “We're not the most loved of the doublesight. Perhaps a longstanding enemy?”

  Zimp smiled. “True.” She touched his leg. “Can you go with me?”

  “I'm sure the others circled around and went into camp.” Surprise came to Noot's face. “Unless the villagers attacked there too. Do you sense anything?”

  Zimp closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “No, it feels safe there.” She opened her eyes and looked into Noot's. “But I'm not really good at this yet. Not as good as…” She stopped. “Oh, to the Gods, to the Gods.”

  “Zora.” Noot said.

  Zimp reached out and held him, more for her benefit than for his. “She's dead, Noot. I held her hands as we fell. They killed her.”

  Noot placed a hand over her head and let her rest against him. “Go ahead,” he said.

  Zimp heard hooting coming from the hillside and the grove of trees where the archers had appeared. “They made their kill,” Zimp said.

  “We'd better get to camp and check on everyone.”

  Noot was right. Zimp pulled away and patted his shoulder. “Can you shift and fly?”

  “It's not that bad. I'll be fine.” Noot cocked his head as his arms and legs shortened. His legs thinned into bird legs, his arms fattened into wings, all happening while his head squeezed into itself and his nose protruded and became a black beak.

  Zimp followed suit and felt her bones shift and her body shrink. She became physically lighter and could feel the hollowness of her own bones as she changed. As crows they flew low over the tall grass in the valley. At the lifting fog, they rose up and went north where, a short distance off, they had made camp the night before.

  Approaching camp, Zimp noticed guards had been set out. The camp remained safe. She and Noot journeyed forward and dived through the fog into camp. Seven wagons stood at various distances from one another along the river. Clansmen held guard everywhere. Zimp shifted into her human image, then searched the group for her grandmother.

  Oro sat on a stool in the midst of the group.

  Zimp rushed to her and bent down. She took Oro's hand and looked into the old woman's eyes.

  “I know, my dear. They've already told me.” Oro touched Zimp's face with a wrinkled and shaking hand.

  Zimp lowered her face into the old woman's lap. “What happened? Why didn't she see this? Why didn't I see it?”

  Oro said nothing in response to Zimp's questions. She took a deep breath and placed both hands on Zimp's head.

  “We'd better break camp,” the distinct voice of Arren said.

  Zimp lifted her head and turned to face him.

  He stood tall and lean. His arms were laced with muscle and he held a sword as though ready to fight any moment. He waited for Oro's approval.

  The old woman pushed against Zimp's shoulder and rose to her feet. “Come, my dear. Arren is right. We must move on. The council will not meet without us.”

  “It's the council that has us moving in such a large group. If it wasn't for them, this wouldn't have happened,” Zimp said. “If you had gone to the council meeting alone as always, you wouldn't be detected.”

  Oro shook her head. “We chose to enter the village in force. Perhaps that was the mistake. A small band could have gone in.”

  “You don't seem to care about Zora. What about what happened?”

  Oro turned to Arren. “Prepare to move.” She turned back to Zimp. “Have you thought that perhaps Zora volunteered to leave this plane of existence?”

  Zimp opened her mouth to speak, but no words came.

  Oro nodde
d and reached for Zimp's hand. “Help me back to the wagon.”

  2

  THE AIR HAD CHILLED with the humidity of early morning. The trees dripped with dew in the low fog of the forest. Silence broke, disrupted by the soft paws of thylacines pattering back home in the dark. Brok loved it when the family went out together. And an early morning return meant a hearty breakfast and a short, sound sleep for a few hours. Bringing up the rear, Brok could hardly see his father ahead of them.

  Fremlin stepped into the clearing and shape-shifted into his human image to unlock the door to the family cabin. He smelled something unusual just before he shifted, but lost the scent. Lina, Brok's mother, was next, and his brothers and sisters followed her. They shifted more slowly into human form and joked while following Lina and Fremlin into the clearing. A night of fun and play brought them home later than usual.

  Fremlin fumbled with the door for a moment as though it were stuck. Then it suddenly slammed open. A massive man wider than the door itself jutted across the threshold, knocking Fremlin to the ground. His sword high over his shoulder, the man leaned toward Fremlin and swung, removing Fremlin's head in one stroke. Brok heard the cracking neck bones and the gurgle of blood.

  Lina screamed and turned, ushering the others back into the woods.

  Brok's sister Keena, swung around but arched her back and fell forward, a dagger in her back. Rem stumbled and kneeled to the ground near her, a dagger protruding from his neck.

  Lina hesitated so that she could help her children. Her body doubled and crouched toward the ground. Her hands shifted into paws and her legs bent, molding into the legs of a thylacine, one of the most ancient of the doublesight, half wolf and half mountain lion. She scurried while shifting, her gaping jaws letting out a loud, warning growl.

  Three more men came from around the cabin. Two of them rushed Lina, swinging their swords violently as they approached. She collapsed, her back severed.