Soulshifter

by Barbara Pietron

  Instead, his teacher took a different approach. “You know we spirit-walk for knowledge and to seek advice from our ancestors. Our goal is always to keep balance between worlds. So your idea is relevant; the living don’t belong in the world of shadows, especially not in the dark realm.”

  Brody paused for a moment gazing upward as he gathered his thoughts. “These types of disappearances have traditionally been rare. But for the past five years or so we’ve noticed a marked increase in such incidents. The council believes a large portion of missing persons cases today are actually Enuuki.”

  Jack realized he was bouncing a knee and pressed his foot flat on the floor.

  “Thing is, this isn’t my area,” Brody continued. “What I know from council meetings is that our people have undertaken spirit-walks to the other side to retrieve living victims. Unfortunately though, I’ve never heard of a successful rescue.”

  Jack expelled a breath and sank back into the chair. “So it can’t be done?”

  “I don’t know.” Brody studied his apprentice for a long moment. “I’m not sure I’d say it’s impossible—it just hasn’t happened yet. Each attempt gains more knowledge.”

  “But where does that leave me?”

  “I think, before you give up your worthy idea, you should speak to those who have the most knowledge, the ones who have been there.” Brody sat forward in his chair and flipped open his laptop. “I’ll give you some names and numbers so you can make inquiries. Then come back and we’ll talk again. This time you can educate me.”

  Jack waited as his adviser jotted down the information, wishing he’d come here before talking to Natalie. He hated to think he’d gotten her hopes up just to let her down. Brody slid the paper across the desk and Jack stood, folding the sheet so he could shove it into his back pocket. “Thanks.” He turned to leave.

  “Jack.” Brody’s voice held a note of concern. Jack twisted around, raising his eyebrows. “One thing I do know: the danger in this idea begins immediately. Minions of the underworld are everywhere—searching for and trying to influence human weakness—and the dark lord will learn of your plans sooner than you think. And once he knows, Zalnic will try his best to dissuade you.”

  Jack stared gravely into his teacher’s eyes. He nodded. “I’ll be careful.”

  With the autumn days growing shorter, one side of the street was already cast in shadow. Brody’s warning had the fine hairs on the back of his neck bristling, so Jack crossed to the sunny side, using the warm rays as a welcome tonic. Since his dad’s auto shop wasn’t too far of a walk, he’d texted earlier to ask for a ride home.

  The sign on the door was already flipped to “closed,” so Jack circled around the back. Apparently he wasn’t the only one taking advantage of the lingering weather; the back door of the shop was propped open. Jack stepped inside and let his eyes adjust to the darker interior—his dad had shut off the overhead lights in anticipation of quitting time. The smell of exhaust, grease and oil was almost as familiar as his mom’s fish soup.

  Jack stepped inside the door. “Dad? I’m here.”

  His dad appeared in the office doorway, backlit for a moment until he flipped the light switch. “I’m ready.”

  A pang of guilt squeezed Jack’s heart as his father advanced across the garage floor. Barely perceptible, most people would never notice the odd way his dad moved his right leg. But Jack couldn’t get used to it—no matter how many times he’d been told not to feel guilty.

  “Mom’s working and we’re on our own,” Jack’s dad said as they stepped outside. He pushed the steel door shut and locked it with a key. “Since you’re here, let’s just grab dinner after we pick up Jase. I don’t feel like cooking, anyway.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Jack replied. That gave him about ten minutes to fill his dad in on his rescue idea and the conversation with Brody—there’d be no serious discussions during dinner with his six-year-old brother.

  At the honk of a car horn Jack flipped his history book shut, rose from the couch and picked up his guitar case. He had intended to get some homework done between dinner and band practice, but found himself staring at the words on the page while his mind wandered elsewhere. “Be back around nine-thirty,” he called to his dad who was in the kitchen helping Jase with his homework.

  Wes turned down the stereo when Jack rolled open the side door of the minivan. He wore a smug smile.

  Jack raised an eyebrow. “Hey, how’s it goin’?”

  “Apparently not as good as it’s goin’ for you.”

  Pushing the door shut, Jack swung open the passenger door and shot his friend a puzzled frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Here I was giving myself props for talking to that blonde in my lit class today and then I see you with Segetich on my way to the bus.”

  “So? Natalie’s locker’s next to mine.”

  “Nice try.” Wes met Jack’s gaze for a moment before he craned his neck over his shoulder to back from the driveway. “I saw you leaving together. Give up on Shera already?”

  “Of course not. And we didn’t leave together, I… I followed her out.” As the words came out of his mouth, Jack realized it would mean the same thing to Wes, who viewed life mostly in black and white with very little shades of gray. Because of sect meetings, the boys were already acquaintances when Jack moved to Ketchton, then they ended up as lab partners in eighth grade and had been good friends ever since.

  To Jack’s amusement, his friend was something of a chameleon. He loved to talk smack about everything—girls, school, elders, whatever—but in direct contact Wes was polite and respectful, a model for all teens. He had a wild streak in him and was smart enough to know when to let it show.

  Although Jack planned to tell Wes about his idea, he wasn’t sure how much he wanted to say about Natalie. Or how much Natalie wanted him to say. She might want to keep their partnership on the down-low to avoid questions. Since others thought what she saw was just a bad dream, there would certainly be ridicule if anyone knew what she was up to now.

  As Wes concentrated on driving around the worst of the ruts in the dirt road, Jack attempted to circumvent the subject of Natalie. “So this blonde. What’s her name?”

  Wes grinned. “Kelly.”

  “You gonna ask her out?”

  “Maybe. We’ll see what happens in class tomorrow.” Wes stopped at the black top road. “She was pretty friendly today.” His eyes lit up as he recalled the exchange. “It didn’t seem like she was just being polite or trying to blow me off.”

  “Wow. That’s two points in your favor.”

  “You know it.” Leaning forward to check for traffic, Wes blew his straight blond bangs out of his eyes before pulling out. “You’re not off the hook dude. I still want to know what a triple-threat like Segetich was doing slumming with you.”

  Wes brought up another reason Natalie might want this kept quiet—Jack wasn’t anywhere close to her league. Still, he feigned insult for his friend’s benefit. “Thanks man, you’re the best.”

  “Got your back bro.” Wes chuckled. He glanced at Jack. “So?”

  “I came up with an idea for my Attestation.”

  “Dude, I don’t think banging a girl qualifies.”

  “Ha ha.” Jack rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Do you want to know or not?”

  Wes waved his hand for Jack to continue.

  “You know a girl disappeared just before school started, right? Well, she was Natalie’s friend, and I overheard Natalie describe what took her.”

  “What—not who?”

  “She was taken by an Enuuki.”

  Wes’s mouth dropped open. “Seriously.”

  “Natalie saw it. And her description made me realize that’s what I saw in my spirit-walk. It wasn’t a hump-backed Enuuki. It had a girl over its shoulder—and I’m going to rescue her.”

  “Nice.” Wes gave him a brief look of admiration. “And get some tail while you’re at it.”

  Jack laug
hed. “Of course that’s my plan,” he said sarcastically. “No. I need Natalie’s help. And she wants her friend rescued. That’s all.”

  “So this is about Shera.”

  “If I succeed, I’d have a chance with her.”

  “Dumb.” Wes pulled into Fletch’s driveway and shifted into park. He shook his head. “You’re risking your life for a girl, man.”

  “That’s not the only reason, just an added benefit.”

  Wes gave him a dubious look then opened his door and hopped out.

  As both boys leaned into the side door to grab their guitars Jack said in a low voice, “Don’t mention Natalie to anyone else, all right?”

  “Sure. We’ll make her code name ‘Triple-threat.’ ” Wes smirked.

  “What does that mean, anyway?”

  “Long legs, tight butt and nice boobs.”

  Jack sighed and headed for the house. “I had to ask,” he muttered.

  Chapter 3

  Research

  The next day Jack didn’t run into Natalie at her locker until after lunch. He started to ask her something until she shook her head and glanced behind him before turning away. An explanation for her behavior didn’t take long.

  “Nat!” Susie Chelton broadcasted her presence. “You haven’t been to track practice. Don’t tell me you’re not going to be on the team this year!”

  Jack had no idea what kind of politics were involved, but he knew fake when he heard it. Susie was not the girl you wanted to know your business. Or even your name. Problem was, he’d really wanted to get Natalie’s phone number so they could talk to each other later—from home. No busybodies or inquiring minds.

  “But you were so good last year!” Susie gushed. “If you don’t run, I guess I’ll have to do the hurdles.”

  Jack scribbled his cell number on a piece of loose leaf, bent down as if picking something up, and handed it to Natalie.

  “I think you dropped this.”

  Natalie took the paper without looking at him and shoved it into a book. “You gotta do what you gotta do,” she said to Susie.

  He fared no better after school. Two other girls were with Natalie and Jack stalled at his locker as long as he could without missing the bus. He just had to hope she’d looked at the paper and saved it. Otherwise he wouldn’t see her until Monday—he had no idea where she lived. Since he ended up running for the bus he didn’t get a seat near Wes, but as the bus emptied, Wes moved to the seat across from Jack.

  “Hey,” Jack said. “Any luck with the blonde girl? Was it Katie?”

  “Kelly.” Wes grinned and held up his phone. “Got her number. We might go out tomorrow.”

  “That’s cool.” Jack smiled. He braced himself as the bus driver downshifted. A high-pitched squeal accompanied a whoosh of airbrakes as the bus rolled to a stop.

  Wes waited for a few kids to pass in the aisleway before he answered. “Yeah, except now I’m keyed up. Wanna do something tonight?”

  “Can’t. I’m doing research.”

  “Homework on a Friday?”

  “No. Interviews. I need to learn everything I can about…” Jack looked around. Only a handful of kids were left, but still, he pointed down.

  Wes pressed his lips together and nodded knowingly. “Elders?”

  “Some,” Jack replied, “but not all.” His phone buzzed and he pulled it from his pocket to see he’d received a text from an unknown number. The message, however, revealed the sender immediately.

  “Got your number, thanks. I’m busy tonight but I’ll try to call later.”

  Jack saved Natalie’s number. Hopefully if she called tonight, he’d have some information to share with her.

  His friend stood as the bus coasted to the side of the road. “Later, man.”

  When he arrived at home, Jack retrieved the list of phone numbers Brody had given him and then sat and jotted down a script. Though he didn’t read or repeat the words verbatim, having it there for back-up was enough to calm his nerves. Five phone calls earned him two meetings that evening and possibly one tomorrow with an elder from Jack’s former division of the sect. He left a message at one number and received an adamant refusal from another.

  After dinner, Jack stepped out into the cool night, grateful for the use of his father’s truck. Once the sun had disappeared below the horizon, the crisp autumn air was quick to dispel any traces of warmth. It would have been a chilly walk to the Jenkins’ residence.

  Jack’s dad had been noncommittal as he listened to his son’s idea. He’d asked a few questions to which Jack knew he’d either answered poorly or simply didn’t know the answers. So his dad finally just said to let him know what else he found out. After sixteen years, Jack knew his father well enough to know he wouldn’t worry about something that might not happen.

  His mother’s reaction had been different. But then, his mom was the daughter of a shifter. It was from her bloodline that Jack inherited his ability. Excited about the prospect of her son becoming a prestigious member of the sect, she’d joined Jack in speculating whether his idea was a viable possibility.

  Ultimately, the questions produced in both conversations had helped to prepare Jack for his interviews.

  The first man’s name was Arlen Jenkins. Although the name was unfamiliar, Jack recognized him from sect meetings as soon as he opened the door. Arlen’s thick, gray hair was closely cropped, adding a youthful element to his tan, lined face. He wore a casual plaid shirt tucked into khaki pants with slippers on his feet. A sweet, spicy aroma enveloped Jack as he was ushered into the living room.

  “Make yourself comfortable.” Arlen lowered himself into a timeworn easy chair. Another recliner populated the same wall along with a small table between the chairs. Jack chose to sit on the couch across the small room.

  “So you want to go after the girl who disappeared a few days ago?”

  “Yes. I hope I can rescue her.” Jack leaned forward, elbows on knees.

  “What makes you think she was taken below? Or taken alive?”

  Jack explained what Natalie saw the night Emma disappeared and how he’d shown her the painting in the gallery to confirm that his suspicions were accurate. The older man nodded in agreement, his eyes distant. When he didn’t say anything, Jack asked, “So, you attempted this too, sir? A rescue?” He suddenly felt awkward, as if asking a man to relate a failed mission was somehow an accusation.

  Arlen made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “You can drop the ‘sir.’ Arlen is fine.” He looked slightly amused but his expression turned business-like as he spoke. “I asked you to see me first because I laid the ground work in the quest to save living souls.” He reached forward and shifted an ottoman so he could rest his feet on it. “You said you’re an apprentice shifter. How old were you the first time you spirit-walked?”

  “Ten.”

  “So I can assume you know the purpose of a visit to the shadow world—to gain insight and maintain a link with our spiritual energy or possibly seek advice from our ancestors. But we avoid the dark realm of Zalnic. Why?”

  The question wasn’t a test. Anyone taught to spirit-walk knew the answer. Obviously Arlen was leading to something, so Jack replied, “Shifters travel to the darkest realm in search of black magic. We don’t practice black magic.”

  “Exactly. So entering Zalnic’s kingdom was, in itself, a learning experience for me.”

  A woman entered the room carrying two plates. “You must be Jack,” she said. “You like apple pie?” She offered him a plate.

  “Yes, I do.” Jack smiled and accepted the plate. “Thank you.”

  “This is my wife, May.” Arlen took the other plate, caught his wife’s hand and squeezed it before letting her walk away. She paused before leaving the room. “Coffee, Jack?”

  “No, thank you.” Jack noticed Arlen already chewing a bite of his pie. The plate was warm in his hand and the apple filling oozed from the flaky crust. Jack took a small bite, unsure how hot it would be.

  “May’s
pies are the best I’ve ever had,” the older man commented.

  Jack nodded and swallowed. “It’s good.”

  Arlen downed another bite before he continued where he’d left off. “The first thing I had to learn was not to die.” He laughed. “Because I did die. More than once, actually.”

  Jack raised his eyebrows.

  “The dark lord has sentries everywhere. They kill on sight. Lucky for me, I simply returned to my body.”

  Arlen’s wife disagreed. “Nothing simple about it.” She crossed the room with a steaming mug and set it on the table next to Arlen’s chair. “It took him days to recover.”

  “Well, one day maybe. Let me tell my story, woman,” Arlen teased. He caught his wife’s eye and winked.

  “Just don’t pretty it up, dear. The boy needs to know the danger he’ll face.”

  Arlen’s gaze followed his wife out of the room then settled back on Jack. “She’s right. None of this was fun. But it was necessary.” He sipped his coffee. “Eventually I made it onto the grounds of Zalnic’s citadel and found the boy I was looking for. He was in a deep pit. My problem was that I had no substance there—no physical ability to affect anything.”

  “Like a ghost,” Jack said.

  “Right. Except when I entered the pit I found I could grasp and control things from the living world.”

  “What do you mean?” Jack slid his empty plate onto the coffee table in front of him.

  “The boy. His jacket.”

  “But you still couldn’t get him out?”

  “By the time I reached him, he was lost. Mentally. He’d forgotten who he was and I couldn’t bring him back.”

  “How long?”

  “He’d been missing at least a month.”

  The elapsed time since Emma’s disappearance worried Jack. She’d been gone five days already. “Did you ever try again?”

  Arlen’s face went slack. “Yes.” He paused a moment, staring into his coffee. “A girl this time. She’d only been gone ten days when I got to her. I helped her regain her memory of life in this world. Got her out of the pit.” He put the coffee down and closed his eyes. “But I couldn’t get her back here.”