Soulshifter

by Barbara Pietron

  “Why?”

  “I was spirit, she was flesh.” Arlen suddenly looked very old. He swiped his hand down his face. “She was recaptured. All I did was succeed in making her relive the horror for a second time.”

  Jack blew out a breath and his chin sank to his chest. He wished he’d learned more before approaching Natalie.

  Arlen read Jack’s posture. “Don’t lose hope. There’s more, Jack.”

  Jack lifted his head and met the older man’s eyes. “More?”

  “We didn’t give up on saving souls. I just learned the first lesson: a living soul cannot be rescued during a spirit-walk.”

  “But that’s what we—”

  Arlen held up a hand to cut Jack off. “That’s not all we do, Jack. We’re soulshifters. We have the ability to descend.”

  Jack looked at the man blankly for a moment, then his mouth fell open.

  “That’s right,” Arlen said, staring directly into Jack’s eyes. “If you want to retrieve a living soul, you must enter the underworld in the flesh.”

  Jack climbed into the pick-up truck and started the engine. He sat for a few minutes listening to the uneven sputter of the motor and digesting what he’d just learned. He probably shouldn’t have been so surprised. Thinking about it now, he almost felt like he should have known all along.

  He’d been thirteen when he first crossed into the underworld in the flesh. His family was barely moved into their house in Ketchton and Jack had just met Brody. But his teacher back in Petoskey passed along the message that Jack was ready for his own tools.

  When a shifter dies, he or she is always buried with the mystic instruments they’ve collected over their lifetime. As they travel on their journey to the afterlife, they shed the material items they no longer need. Young shifters descend to the shadow world to collect these items or—as they’re taught—present their being in the realm where the items of power can find their new owners, because the tools must fit the practitioner.

  Even though shifters can cross worlds on most any given day as long as certain conditions are met, the annual rite to collect tools is performed at the summer solstice. This longest day of the year lends a maximum amount of time for light to hold evil at bay, and the membrane between the known world and the world beyond is at its thinnest. Shifters bodily descend to the outer reaches of the underworld—the shadowland—by crossing the veil on sacred ground.

  Since Jack had physically entered the other world every summer to obtain the tools of his trade, he knew he had to be bodily present to bring material items back into this world. Why wouldn’t it be the same with people? He couldn’t berate himself too much though; Arlen said he felt the same way once he realized his error. Because of his advanced age, Arlen had opted to pass along his knowledge and leave the physical travel to younger shifters. When Jack asked if he knew what happened to anyone who’d tried a physical rescue, Arlen declined telling another man’s story. He did, however, survey Jack’s list of contacts and encourage a trip to Harbor Springs.

  Jack consulted the directions given to him over the phone. His next meeting was in an unfamiliar area just outside Ketchton, so he took advantage of each stop at a traffic light to make sure he was still on track. The neighborhood transformed from quaint old homes to small ranches and bungalows built in the forties or fifties. The yards appeared either unadorned or overgrown; even simple landscaping was scarce.

  Jack wasn’t one to judge. His own front yard wasn’t much of a lawn by any stretch of the imagination.

  He found the correct street but struggled to pick out house numbers in the dark. The sparse street lamps were located at intersections only and the mailboxes mounted on the houses instead of the curb certainly didn’t help either. Moreover, low-lying clouds impeded the moon’s assistance. His dad had mentioned the truck was running rough and Jack noticed idling slowly made it worse. Finally, he parked the truck and walked.

  His new haircut left his neck exposed to the chilly air so Jack pulled his hood over his head. By the time he found the house, he’d jammed his hands way down into the pockets of his sweatshirt jacket, marveling that earlier it had still felt like summer. He hit the doorbell with his elbow. Studying his reflection in the glass of the outer door, Jack realized he probably looked like a thug and quickly swiped the hood off his head.

  Nothing happened. Though a blind was pulled over the front window, Jack could see the telltale flicker of blue light coming from a television inside. He contemplated the doorbell again, unable to recall if he’d heard it ring when he pressed it. He knocked.

  This time he heard movement within the house. The blind fluttered and then the door opened head-width to reveal a woman’s face. “Can I help you?” The words were more challenge than invitation.

  “I’m Jack Ironwood. I’m here to see Kyle Burman. I called ahead,” he added.

  The door closed and Jack heard muffled voices. He waited, unsure if he’d been dismissed. Then the door swung open and the woman stood aside to allow Jack entry. He tentatively stepped inside.

  “I’m Kyle,” the woman said. “My dad said I should talk to you.”

  Jack tried to hide his surprise. He’d spoken to a man on the phone. The woman appeared to be in her thirties and had a small head out of proportion to her plump body. Tiny eyes, colorless lips and dark hair pulled into a severe ponytail only added to the illusion. She peered at him suspiciously.

  “Hi, Kyle.” Feeling awkward, Jack cleared his throat. “If you’ve descended to the underworld, I could use your help.”

  “I’ll never go back.” She turned away and moved down the hallway.

  Jack followed. “No. I wouldn’t expect that. I just want some information, that’s all.”

  Wooden chair legs scraped the linoleum as Kyle pulled a chair from the kitchen table. She nodded toward the other seats. Jack chose the seat directly opposite and considered where to start. He tried to recall the phone conversation he’d had earlier which must’ve been with Kyle’s father. Had the man led Jack to believe he was the one who crossed worlds? Or had Jack simply made an assumption?

  “So… uh… you went on a rescue mission?”

  Kyle only nodded. She sat with her hands cradled inside the center pocket of her faded Michigan State hoodie.

  He decided a gradual approach to the real questions might be the only way to gain any information. “You must’ve been pretty young.”

  “Twenty-four.”

  “Was it your Attestation?” Maybe she had the same idea he did.

  “No.”

  Jack frowned. “You volunteered?”

  She shrugged. “I had to go.”

  “Why?”

  “She was my little sister.”

  “Oh.” Jack closed his eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry.” He hadn’t anticipated anything like this.

  “Not my actual sister—you know the Big Brother program? I was her Big Sister. She was a sweet kid, though. I loved her like she was my sister.”

  Jack could see the tears welling in the bottom of Kyle’s eyes. “Look, you don’t have to talk about it. I should go.” He moved to push his chair back but a loud thud on the table top made him stop and jerk his head up. Kyle’s arm lay on the Formica surface and as Jack scrambled to equate the heavy sound with a human limb, he did a double take at her hand.

  Mechanical. Kyle wore an artificial limb.

  “No,” she said. “Stay. My dad’s right. The only thing I can do now to make my sacrifice mean anything is to tell my story so others can learn from my mistakes. Our mistakes.”

  “You went with someone?”

  “My mom,” she murmured and turned her head away.

  The small kitchen filled with an atmosphere of foreboding. Jack suddenly didn’t want to hear Kyle’s story. He could feel the grief, regret and guilt emanating from the woman. The recounting of events would only reinforce and sharpen her obvious suffering. Then she began to speak and Jack knew he had to listen. Whatever he chose to do with the information Kyle
shared, the least he could do was give her his full attention.

  “We thought we’d have a better chance with two of us. My mom would be the distraction while I retrieved Tessa. It seemed like it was going to work. My mom got herself in to see Zalnic. I found my sister in a pit. It took a little while to talk her back to who she was, but I knew her well. Once she was back to herself, I was looking for a way to get her out of there when I was discovered.”

  Kyle had withdrawn her arm from the table and returned it to her hoodie pocket. “As the guard dragged me into Zalnic’s palace, I fought. He lashed out with a blade. It cut me here.” She used the side of her hand to slice over her arm just below the elbow. “My mother was with Zalnic. When she saw me, my arm limp and bleeding, she begged the dark lord to let us go. I’m sure she hoped to cut our losses and return for my little sister more prepared.”

  Kyle drew in a shuddering breath before continuing. “He laughed. Zalnic. Laughed with… glee.” She forced the last word out, still in disbelief. “It was terrible. I get cold inside just thinking about it.” She swallowed. “Then he let us go.”

  “Let you go?”

  Kyle nodded. “We couldn’t believe it either, but later, we understood.” She ran her fingers over her ear, smoothing loose hair back toward the ponytail. “We made it back. My mom died within ten days. My arm never healed. Eventually they amputated it and replaced it with a fake.” She waved the arm as she said it. “Zalnic won. That’s why he let us go.”

  Jack wanted to ask why Kyle’s mom died, but couldn’t think of how to ask. Kyle spared him. “Even though she knew better, my mom had tea with Zalnic. Tea.” There were tears in her eyes now. “Do not have tea in hell.” She laughed then, a pathetic sound.

  He didn’t know what to say. So he just nodded.

  “Apparently he’s pretty persuasive. I’d tell you not to go at all if I thought it would make a difference.” She swiped at her eyes. “But you’ll go anyway.” Her voice was bitter. “Just don’t underestimate him.”

  “I won’t,” Jack said gravely.

  Kyle met his eyes for a minute, seemingly evaluating his sincerity, then gave a curt nod and rose from the table. “That’s all.” She rose and left the room.

  Jack saw himself out. Before he even stepped into the brisk night he felt numb. The blasting heat in the truck couldn’t chase away the lack of feeling, though it eventually transformed into doubt. His idea had lost much of its brilliance. The prospect of danger didn’t surprise him. He’d be entering the underworld after all, land of the dead. What he hadn’t expected was a set of rules.

  Rules that had deadly consequences when broken.

  Jack couldn’t help wondering if he was in over his head.

  Jack was asleep on the couch in front of the television when Natalie called. He swiped a hand across his face and reached for his phone on the coffee table.

  “H’lo?” he mumbled.

  “Jack? I’m sorry. I woke you up.”

  “No.” Jack blinked and peered at the clock. 12:20. “I was up watching TV.”

  “Oh, good. I know it’s late but I didn’t want you to think I blew you off. This is really important to me. More important than most anything else. Thing is, if I told anyone about it, I’d end up in a shrink’s office. I know my dad was already thinking about it.”

  “It’s okay, I’m glad you called. I have things I need to talk to you about.”

  “All right, but first I just want to say thanks for your discretion today. Susie Chelton has the biggest mouth in the school. And even though she pretends to like me, she can’t stand that I beat her record last year.”

  “Yeah, I wasn’t sure what kind of questions I might raise. You’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

  Natalie didn’t say anything for a moment. When she did, her voice was tentative. “Just so we’re clear. The issue isn’t you personally—it’s the whole, you know, underworld thing. I don’t need people thinking I’m crazier than they already do.” She paused. “If all things were normal, I would have no reservations about being… with you… friends, you know.”

  Jack practically heard her blush through the phone. Feeling the heat in his cheeks as well, he was grateful the conversation wasn’t taking place face to face. “Uh, yeah, same here.”

  Duh, same here? She was Natalie Segetich! She could only improve his reputation.

  As if he had one.

  “What did you want to talk about? Did you learn more about saving Emma?”

  “Yeah, actually, I did.” Jack wasn’t going to tell her he was trying to determine whether or not he still wanted to do this, he figured he’d just ask questions about Emma until he had a sense of the kind of person she was. But they started to talk and next thing he knew, he blurted out everything.

  “The woman lost her arm? Her mom died because she drank something?”

  “Yeah.”

  There was a pause. “Sounds pretty dangerous.” Natalie’s voice was low and even.

  “I already knew it would be dangerous.”

  “You can’t risk your life, Jack. For someone you didn’t even know?”

  He chose to ignore her first statement. “You can help me with that. Tell me about Emma. I need you to help me determine if there’s a chance she’s… she might be…”

  “Still alive.”

  “Yeah.”

  Jack heard Natalie draw in a deep breath. “Emma was—is—a good person. I mean she wasn’t angelic or anything, but well-liked. I think she was admired—you know, if others couldn’t be her, they wanted to be with her.”

  Natalie sniffed. Jack squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth. God, he was making her cry.

  “Emma liked people—all kinds of people. She was the least discriminatory person I’ve ever known. The more different a person seemed to be, the more she wanted to get to know them. I suppose that’s why so many kids liked her. No one was invisible to Emma.”

  “Wow, and I thought she was popular because she hung out with you.”

  She chuckled. “Hardly.”

  Jack detected another intake of breath and waited, thinking Natalie had something else she was going to say. He vaguely remembered Emma from the previous year of school. Long, curly brown hair. Attractive. Jack’s impression of her was bubbly—she seemed to always be smiling. Just as he was about to say something, Natalie spoke.

  “You were on her agenda.”

  “I was what?”

  “Emma wanted to get to know you.”

  “I can’t believe she even noticed me. I was never in any classes with her.”

  “We were locker neighbors last year too, remember? Anyway, she said she thought you’d be interesting. Looks like she was right.”

  “I’m interesting?”

  “Uh… yeah. Soulshifter?”

  He’d never thought about it that way—that others would be interested. He kept his membership in the sect on the down-low, aware that outsiders often considered them freaks. “Huh. Well, she sounds like a cool person to know.”

  “She was the best.”

  “Was she impressionable? I mean, could people talk her into things?”

  “Emma would do most anything for anyone as long as it was for a good reason. But she marched to her own drum, you know? There were things she wouldn’t do. No matter what.”

  “Brave?”

  “Too brave. I think she was a borderline adrenaline junkie. I’d vote her most likely to go skydiving.” Natalie lowered her voice. “Actually, that’s what got her into trouble.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Silence stretched out for a long moment. “She knew the burial grounds were there.”

  “She thought she might see a ghost or something?”

  “No.” Natalie’s laugh held little humor. “Jack, you can’t tell anyone this. Whether she makes it back or not.”

  “Okay.”

  “Promise.”

  “I promise.”

  “She thought it would be… uh… exciting to
make out there.”

  Was Natalie saying what he thought she was saying? “The two of you… ah…” Did she mean they…? “You met up with your boyfriends?”

  “No, it was just us.”

  Jack had no control over the imagery her comment conjured. A warm flush heated his cheeks.

  “Wait.” Natalie seemed to read his silence. “You don’t think… Emma and I weren’t… I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I was camping with Emma’s family at the campground there. We decided to check out the burial grounds because Emma wanted to bring Brian Winks there. We’re not—” She breathed out in exasperation.

  “No. I know. I wasn’t,” he lied. Jack cleared his throat. “Well, Emma doesn’t sound like she’d give up easily.”

  “I can’t imagine her giving up on life, and I don’t want to—” Natalie’s voice broke. She took a deep breath. “I don’t want to give up on her. But you can’t risk your life, Jack.”

  “That’s why I’m talking to others first. If I learn the rules—and follow them—I won’t be risking my life.” He sounded confident, but he said it as much to convince himself as Natalie. “Which brings me to my next question: I need to talk to a sect elder in Harbor Springs. Would you want to go with me? Tomorrow?”

  Chapter 4

  Learning the Rules

  Inviting Natalie to join him for the trip to Harbor Springs was admittedly Jack’s way of getting a ride. He didn’t have a car. Nor would he be able to borrow one. As a nurse, his mom worked weekends and his dad’s old pickup couldn’t afford a three hundred mile trip.

  He knew it was an underhanded maneuver to preserve his ego, but somehow he couldn’t just ask for a ride. When he called Natalie the next morning and explained the situation, she did exactly what Jack hoped—she offered to drive. “Where do you live?” she asked.

  A swell of panic rose in the back of his throat. Shoot. He was an idiot. How could he have overlooked that detail? He didn’t want her to see his house. “Uh… my mom’s heading out soon, she can just drop me at your house. It’ll be easier.” Jack knew his mom was long gone and he had no idea of his dad’s plans—or if he was even home.