Soulshifter

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Soulshifter Page 2

by Barbara Pietron


  Natalie shook her head.

  “How about Shiner’s Dairy?”

  “Yeah.”

  “The gallery is two doors down. Meet me there? In, say, twenty minutes?”

  The sunlight revealed dark circles under her eyes. She stared across the parking lot and then focused on Jack. “I don’t even know your name.”

  Jack put on his best friendly smile. “Jack. Jack Ironwood.”

  “Natalie Segetich.”

  Jack squirmed internally at her scrutiny. Would his appearance sway her in either direction? His jeans were well-worn, but he’d intentionally chosen a pair that wasn’t too ripped up. And he had on one of the new t-shirts he got before school started. His hair was unruly, but aside from using hair products or buzzing it off—both of which he refused to do—there wasn’t much he could do about it. At least it was clean.

  Finally she spoke. “What was the name of the gallery?”

  “Little River.”

  “Fine. Twenty minutes.” She walked away.

  Jack blew out a relieved breath. He hurried back to the school to retrieve the books he needed for homework. His walk to the gallery would take about fifteen minutes. Natalie could easily get there in five if she drove directly there. Good chance she’d be waiting on him and, judging by her current mood, the last thing she needed was someone asking her why she was hanging around outside an art gallery.

  A valid concern for Natalie Segetich.

  Everyone knew her. To start, she was class secretary; her name had been plastered all over the school at election time last spring. Jack might have even voted for her, he didn’t remember. Also, Natalie had been the star of last year’s track team, singled out at school assemblies numerous times. And if exposure wasn’t enough to make her well-known, looks didn’t hurt. She was a petite brunette, just shy of being short, with large dark blue eyes that contrasted with her pale skin. Jack got the impression her popularity carried over from junior high and maybe elementary school as well.

  At the other end of the spectrum, it was no surprise that Natalie didn’t know Jack. Why would she? He was merely one of the faceless masses. His family moved to the area when Jack was thirteen and had only one year left of junior high. He hadn’t started high school with many preexisting friendships. His lack of notoriety never concerned Jack, though; he knew his success lay within the sect.

  Bright sunshine and a warm breeze that still felt like summer accompanied Jack across the school grounds. Only the yellow-tipped maple leaves gave away the coming change of season. Though the town of Ketchton had lost many of its elms to disease back in the seventies, plenty of oaks, maples and birch trees still populated the area. By the time Jack cleared the track and football field to reach the urban neighborhood, shade was welcome.

  He arrived at Little River Gallery winded and took a few minutes to catch his breath outside, scanning the street for Natalie’s car. The burgundy SUV wasn’t parked on the street so Jack went inside, knowing there was also parking behind the building.

  He ignored the twinge of disappointment when a quick survey of the exhibits came up empty. Maybe she made a stop on the way. A woman emerged from the back of the room. “May I… oh, Jack, hello.” Her smile rounded out her face to match her ample form.

  “Hi, Mrs. Miggan.” Jack had been a fairly regular visitor to the gallery when he started studying with his adviser, Brody Carter. Much of the art displayed here was the work of sect members. “I’m meeting someone,” he added as explanation for remaining near the door.

  “Ahhh.” Mrs. Miggan nodded. “You know where to find me if you need anything.”

  Jack wandered around the front of the store, attempting to examine the displays instead of brooding over whether or not Natalie would actually show. The distraction failed, however, since he’d begun formulating a back-up plan when she finally came through the door.

  His relieved smile received a tired, blank look in return. “This way.” Jack motioned with his hand for Natalie to follow and weaved his way to the left wall. He stopped in front of a clear acrylic box which displayed a painting on birch-bark. Natalie stepped next to him and gasped at the scene depicted by the art work. A dog-like beast on two legs carried a struggling victim slung over its shoulder. Its maw stretched out in a grin, revealing sharp yellow teeth. Red eyes seemed to reflect the hot glow on the horizon. The clawed feet traversed rocky ground, the terrain black as coal.

  Jack watched the color drain from Natalie’s already pale face as she scanned the painting. Her blue eyes darted erratically back and forth, then rolled up into her head as she collapsed. Jack lunged and caught her, lowering her gently to the ground. He swiveled his head right and left, seeing no one. He opened his mouth to call for Mrs. Miggan, then closed it, realizing he knew what to do. He slipped his backpack off his shoulder and positioned it under Natalie’s feet to restore blood flow to her head. Her eyelids fluttered almost immediately and Jack let out a relieved breath.

  When she opened her eyes, she looked first at Jack, and then at her surroundings. She groaned and put her hand over her face. “God. I fainted?”

  “Yeah, sorry.”

  She shook her head and pushed up onto her elbows. “It’s not your fault.”

  Jack offered her a hand and she took it. “Well, kinda. I should’ve warned you about the painting.”

  “Maybe.” The corners of Natalie’s mouth lifted for the first time, and though the smile was small and weak, it transformed her face. “I think it has more to do with lack of sleep and food.”

  “Mmm. Let me buy you an ice cream then—it’s the least I can do.”

  She protested at first, but after a second wave of dizziness, Natalie admitted she’d better eat something and they walked down to Shiner’s Dairy. As he paid the clerk, Jack considered the two days of lunch money well-worth the opportunity to sit down and talk to her. He waited until she’d had a few bites of her coconut and KitKat-filled yellow cake batter concoction before asking questions. “The painting… is that what you saw the night your friend disappeared?”

  Natalie shuddered. “Yeah. You could pretty much put Emma’s face on the girl in the picture.” She gazed at her ice cream for a moment and then at Jack. “Was it fake? Did some creep see that picture and dress up like that thing?” The question lacked conviction. She knew the answer.

  “I’d love to say yes, but no. It’s real.”

  “You’ve seen it?”

  The tone of her voice held an element of hope Jack hated to crush. “Yes. Not exactly in the flesh, but yes.”

  She ran her hand through her hair, pulling the thick bangs away from her face. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Well… partly because I didn’t want you to think you were crazy.” Jack watched Natalie’s cheeks turn pink as she realized he’d heard the argument with her boyfriend. He dropped his gaze, remixing the crushed Oreo cookies into his chocolate ice cream. “I’m sorry. Really. I don’t make it a habit to eavesdrop on people. I’d left my jacket in the biology lab, but when I heard your… um… heated conversation I figured I’d just get it this morning. Before I walked away I heard you describe the Enuuki.”

  The door creaked and a mom with two kids in tow entered the shop. Jack followed their progress to the counter, avoiding eye contact with Natalie. He wasn’t going to mention that he’d heard them break up because her boyfriend didn’t believe her.

  “Enuuki?” Natalie’s eyebrows inched up. “The thing has a name?”

  “It means ‘hell’s messenger.’ ”

  She stopped eating.

  “Usually, the Enuuki take souls to hell, but occasionally they take the living.”

  “And you believe this?”

  Jack waited to answer. The way Natalie watched the door warned him of new arrivals. Moments later, three loud tittering girls entered, all talking at once. Natalie rolled her eyes and murmured, “Freshmen.” When they made it to the counter, Jack spoke. “Yeah, I do believe it. I also believe you witnessed it.” />
  Natalie pushed her ice cream around the bowl. Then she looked at Jack. “You think that’s what happened to Emma.”

  Jack returned Natalie’s stare. “You tell me. Is it?”

  She closed her eyes for a moment. “Everyone keeps telling me it was a nightmare. I started to believe them.” Her gaze went distant, then focused back on Jack. “When I saw the painting, it’s like it all became real again.”

  Jack plunked his spoon into his empty bowl. “Your ice cream’s melting.”

  Natalie looked down as if she’d forgotten the ice cream were there. “Why… how do you know about this… this thing?” She took a bite of ice cream and watched him struggle to put together an answer.

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You’ve heard of the Racamedi Sect?”

  “Of course, everyone in Ketchton has.”

  “I belong to the sect. It’s a group of people who can commune with transcendental forces. It’s mostly made up of families because the abilities are passed through bloodlines.”

  Natalie frowned at him.

  “Never mind. All you really need to know is that I believe in a lot of things most people don’t.” Like the majority of students, Jack had heard about Emma’s disappearance from her family’s Labor Day weekend camping trip. But he hadn’t given it much thought until Natalie’s description the day before had instantly conjured an image of an Enuuki. He realized an Enuuki with a girl on its back would easily look humpbacked. That’s when he remembered the painting at the gallery. “Last night I looked up articles about what happened to your friend. I wanted to know if what I suspected was possible. It turns out the campground you were at is near an old Native American burial ground.”

  Natalie’s eyes widened at his statement, and small pink spots formed on her cheeks, although she continued to eat without comment.

  Jack scanned the small shop. He knew how crazy this would sound to most people, but to Natalie—who was struggling with her own sanity—it might make sense. Leaning across the table, he spoke in a low voice. “Here’s the deal: the line between the living world and the spirit world blurs on sacred ground; it’s a likely spot for the Enuuki to pass through.”

  Natalie scraped the bottom of her bowl. She licked the spoon, contemplating Jack’s words.

  He forged ahead. “Was she—God, I hate to ask this—was Emma taken alive?”

  Jack watched her face scrunch up and his heart ached. Natalie closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Finally she simply nodded.

  He blew out his breath and the hair on his forehead fluttered. “Now I’m really gonna sound nuts.”

  Natalie snorted a humorless laugh. “Everything about this conversation is nuts. Just tell me.”

  “There might be a way to save Emma.”

  Her chin jerked up at his statement. “Save? It’s been days. She’s—” Her voice broke, but she stubbornly continued. “She must be dead.”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “Jack. First you say she was dragged to hell and now you’re saying she’s still alive?” She watched his every move like a child watching a magician.

  “Look,” he said, “I can’t say I know everything about this, but I’m pretty sure a living soul must succumb to hell. You know, accept it. How long a person lasts depends on the strength of their spirit. I figure Emma’s young—with a lot to live for.”

  Jack detected a faint glimmer of hope in Natalie’s eyes and suddenly some of his determination to make her believe him dissolved into anxiety. The sweet smell, which was inviting when they entered the shop, now seemed cloying. He’d been so excited when he had the idea the day before. Was there a mission nobler than rescuing a damsel in distress? If he succeeded, he could easily become the Shifter Premier, like Brody, his adviser. That potential alone would make him a worthy suitor for Shera.

  Now, looking into Natalie’s hopeful face, Jack considered what would be lost if he failed.

  She shook her head slightly—perhaps in disbelief, or maybe in an attempt to clear her thoughts. “But… how…?” She seemed unable to formulate the question she wanted to ask.

  Jack took a deep breath as he glanced at the other customers. Then he leaned across the table and spoke softly. “I’m a soulshifter. I can visit the spirit world.”

  Natalie blinked. “I am crazy,” she muttered.

  “You’re not.” Jack shook his head. “It’s an ancestral ability many sect members possess.”

  “How? How can you do that?” The challenge intensified her gaze, but she held her face carefully impassive.

  “There are certain rituals we use, but mainly, it’s a spiritual ability I was born with.” When she didn’t say anything, he continued. “Just give me a chance. Work with me on this. If you’re not convinced in a couple of days that I am who I say I am, we can drop it and I’ll leave you alone.”

  Natalie stared at the tabletop for a long moment, her face slack. “Why, though.” It didn’t come out as a question and Jack wasn’t entirely sure she knew she’d spoken out loud. Then her eyes flicked up and met his. “Why would you do this? You don’t even know Emma.”

  Jack stared at his fingers as he folded a napkin over and over into an impossibly small bundle. He felt a twinge of shame. “I have to admit—it’s a selfish reason. I want to become an elder in my sect, a high-level shifter. In order to do that I have to prove myself. We call it an Attestation.” Although the position was actually a means to get what he ultimately wanted, he figured Natalie was looking for a reason, not Jack’s intimate hopes and dreams.

  “Oh.” Natalie leaned her head on her open hand, obscuring her expression. The chatter in the background seemed suppressed by the silence that stretched out between them. With no clue to what she might be thinking, Jack half expected her to tell him to back off and never speak to her again.

  “Had you told me this stuff a month ago,” she said slowly, “about sects of… soulshifters that… that visit other worlds… about rescuing people from hell, I would’ve fallen on the floor laughing. But now, after what I saw…” Finally she looked up, chin resting on her fist. “I don’t know what I believe. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll help me.”

  Talking to Natalie was his first step, and though she was cautiously skeptical, she’d agreed to help. Next Jack needed to see his adviser. It was that thought that saved him when Natalie offered him a ride home from Shiner’s Dairy.

  Jack didn’t have a car and he’d obviously missed the bus, yet he immediately refused when Natalie asked if he needed a ride. A hot wash of panic had spread through his chest at the thought of Natalie Segetich driving up to his house. As he scrambled for an excuse, the need to meet with his teacher provided a way to solve two problems at once.

  Instead of taking him home, Jack asked Natalie to drop him off at the sect offices.

  An awkward silence formed inside Natalie’s SUV once Jack had delivered directions. After their conversation in Shiner’s, Jack floundered for a pedestrian subject, but anything he thought of seemed trivial. Finally, Natalie broke the silence. “So everyone in the sect has a… power?”

  “Mmm, I’m not sure power is the right word. We have various spiritual abilities.”

  “Such as?”

  “Well, there’s dowsing, which is being able to locate objects. There are aura readers who can obtain information about a person, things, or even a place, from the energy field around them. I have a friend who can learn about people or things by touching them. That’s called psychometry.”

  Natalie was quiet for a moment. “That’s kind of creepy. Does it happen to him all the time?”

  “No.” Jack chuckled. “That would suck. Unless the person is like, obsessed with something, he has to ‘tune-in’, for lack of a better word.”

  “Is there… does anyone…”

  Jack studied Natalie from the corner of his eye, noticing the bloom of color on her cheeks. “What?”

  “Never mind.” The flush deepened, spreading to
her neck.

  Jack laughed. “Go ahead. I’d love to hear what the rumors are.”

  Her throat worked as she swallowed. “Okay, I heard the sect was necromancers.”

  “Yep. Heard that one before. The truth is necromancy is a spiritual ability. But it’s considered a black art. No one in the Racamedi Sect practices it. I guess us shifters come the closest to necromancers since we visit the spirit world. But we’re generally contacting ancestors, not conjuring demons.” He motioned to the left side of the street. “Turn left there, by the hardware store.”

  Further conversation was cut off by Jack’s instructions through a series of turns, and minutes later, they rolled up in front of the sect office building. “Thanks for the ride.” Jack slipped from the seat. “See you in school tomorrow.”

  Natalie simply nodded in reply, her eyes thoughtful.

  Jack knew he’d given her a lot to digest. He hoped she wouldn’t back out.

  When he arrived at Brody’s office, the door was open, so he knocked on the frame. “Got a few minutes?”

  The older man behind the desk looked up. “Jack. Hello.” He glanced at the wall clock. “Well, I’ve got a half hour and then I’m out of here.” Jack’s adviser managed to keep a straight face, but the crinkles at the corners of his eyes betrayed his easy-going demeanor.

  “I know, Brody. I’m sorry for just dropping in.” Jack delivered the apology with a smile.

  Brody wore his salt and pepper hair close-shaven and flat on top. Relatively fit for his age, the button-up shirt hanging loose over his blue jeans hid any belly he might be accumulating underneath. He leaned back and motioned to the chairs on the other side of his desk. “Have a seat. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

  Jack perched on the edge of a chair and explained his idea, receiving no more than slightly raised eyebrows (at the mention of the Enuuki) and narrowed eyes (at Jack’s idea to retrieve Emma). When he was done, he watched as his adviser chose his reply.

  Brody laced his fingers together over his stomach. “First, Jack, let me say this is a brave offer and a commendable idea.”

  Jack let out an imperceptible sigh of disappointment, waiting for the ‘but.’

 

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