Soulshifter

by Barbara Pietron

  Every sect member grew up hearing stories of the underworld god who reposed in a seat built of human bones. But unlike the roughly assembled outbuildings built by the guards, this structure was comprised of intricate work and delicate pieces. Jack gaped at the skulls which served as ornamentation, selectively placed at the top corners of the seat back as well as at the end of the arms. As he drew closer, revulsion churned in his stomach and threatened to climb up the back of his throat at the realization that the bones and skulls were too small to be adult.

  “Welcome, Shifter.” The voice issued from the black recess behind the throne. Zalnic’s fiery red eyes materialized and the shadows seemed to coalesce until they fashioned the rough shape of a man. The crescent shape which composed the top of his angular head rose into peaks on either side, forming horns. The lord of the dead relaxed on his throne and watched Jack approach. When Jack stopped a respectful distance from the dais, the ruler of the underworld spoke again. “Jack Ironwood, I presume?” His voice rasped with the quality of gravel on cement.

  That Zalnic knew who he was didn’t surprise Jack, but the sound of his name coming from the lips of the underworld god made his blood run cold. All the things he’d planned to say turned to ash on his tongue.

  Zalnic raised his eyebrows, causing his horns to twitch, an uncomfortable reminder of the specter’s nature. “So… Jack—if I may call you Jack?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “You realize you’re quite late for the summer solstice?” He rose from his throne, disturbing the darkness from which he was made. Shadows trailed behind him like the train of a bridal gown as he stepped off the dais. “And for that matter, quite far from the artifact caves as well. If you’re simply lost, perhaps I can direct you out?”

  As the lord of souls approached, Jack’s nose was assaulted with the odor of burnt ruins. Nothing like the familiar smell of summer campfires or smoldering autumn leaves, but the lingering odor after a house fire or a car crash—the stench of tragedy and loss. Repulsion inhibited his need to breathe and his hand rose unconsciously to his throat.

  Yes. Yes, he wanted out.

  Then his fingers brushed the brimstone amulet under his jacket, jarring him into a moment of clarity. “I intend to leave, but I expect to take the girl back with me.”

  “You brought a girl with you?”

  Panic squeezed his chest. “Of course not.” Jack pushed for a haughty tone to cover the blatant lie. “You know very well I’m talking about the girl you stole from the living world.”

  “On the contrary, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I assure you, I have not stolen anyone.” Zalnic paced leisurely, stroking his chin.

  “A witness saw your Enuuki take her.”

  “Really?” Zalnic stopped to face Jack. “Come on Jack, seriously? Any sort of pedophile or serial killer could wear a mask. I hear these disguises can be quite extraordinary these days.”

  “It would take more than a mask to look like an Enuuki.”

  The underlord shook his head, and the moving shadows distorted his features for a moment. “Mmm. The memories of witnesses can often be faulty. Children go missing frequently—I suggest you speak to your local law enforcement.”

  “No. The frequency of missing children is your cover. I’m taking the girl back to the living world and I expect you to release her soul.” Jack was careful not to use Emma’s name. He didn’t want Zalnic to think he had personal ties to the prisoner—he wanted the transaction to remain businesslike.

  Zalnic stopped moving and regarded Jack for a moment. “All right. For your satisfaction I will question my Enuuki. But I ask you this, if an Enuuki did take a living girl—without my permission, of course—what makes you think you can march in here, demand that I give her to you, and still get out alive?” His eyes malevolently elongated into the shape of flames as the dark lord inclined his head toward Jack.

  Steeling himself not to back down, Jack responded defiantly, “I know your game.”

  The underlord narrowed his eyes. “My game?” The words rumbled from his throat, soft and low.

  “You’re stealing souls from other gods.”

  Zalnic spun on his foot and laughed, but Jack thought he’d caught a flicker of surprise in the glowing embers of the demon’s eyes. “If that were true, surely I’d have heard from these other gods. Yet I haven’t received any complaints.”

  “Because you take those who haven’t sworn their souls to another. Those souls would rightfully end up in the underworld of their ancestors. You’re circumventing this by taking them while they’re still alive.”

  The lord of the underworld spun to face Jack, staring him down for a long moment. “Well, well. Aren’t you the clever one?” The god’s voice dropped an octave. “Too bad you’ll never see the light of day again.” The statement ended with a snarl.

  Jack’s heart thrummed and a sheen of sweat beaded along his hairline, but he stood his ground. “That would be a mistake. My death will bring the wrath of the other gods down on you—starting with those who own the girl you stole. Odin will not be pleased, and Hel, queen of the Norse underworld, will surely declare war on you.”

  From behind Jack, a door scraped open and then closed. He turned sideways, unwilling to have his back to either the approaching underling or to the dark lord.

  A figure emerged from the shadows. As it bowed to the ruler, Jack realized it was an Enuuki. “Ah, Megedagik,” Zalnic said. “A question.” He motioned for the creature to follow him and they retreated from Jack.

  The conversation took only a minute or two and then Zalnic waved the creature away. His burning eyes settled on Jack, boring into his soul. After what seemed half of eternity, he finally spoke. “Megedagik informs me a girl was taken recently. Perhaps we can come to an agreement. I release her soul, and you forget your allegations.”

  Jack didn’t care for the sly smile Zalnic wore—a knowing smile. Striking a bargain shouldn’t have been this easy. He’d studied Norse mythology—been prepared to argue. Still, this was exactly what he’d hoped to achieve. “Agreed.” Jack felt more uneasy than triumphant.

  “Let’s seal it in blood.” Suddenly the underlord had a dagger in his hand. He held out his hand, palm up, and sliced into it with a small groan of satisfaction. He pointed the dripping knife at Jack. “Next?”

  The image of Kyle’s artificial limb thumping on the table generated a surge of panic and Jack’s heart pounded in warning. Using Zalnic’s blade on his own skin was not an option. His thoughts raced, considering alternatives. Although they’d stripped him of his backpack, he could demand his own knife. Still, the underlord would expect their blood to mingle. Jack struggled not to shudder visibly at the thought of the demon’s blood directly on his skin. His brain switched gears to the ramifications of refusing the blood affirmation.

  The glowing orbs in Zalnic’s eye sockets flared as he stared Jack down. His blood overflowed his black palm, the drops pattering to the stone floor. “Second thoughts, Shifter?” The raspy voice sounded equally amused and annoyed.

  Jack hadn’t let on that Emma had any personal significance to him, therefore Zalnic should have more to lose if they didn’t make this agreement. “I don’t need to spill blood to confirm my word. A handshake is sufficient.” He offered his gloved hand.

  A growl rumbled from Zalnic’s throat and, for a moment, Jack thought he’d made a poor judgment call. Then, sneering, Zalnic engulfed Jack’s hand in a vice-like grip. Icy cold permeated his glove and stung Jack’s skin as if he’d gripped something metal barehanded on a sub-zero winter day. The petulant attitude emanating from the lord of souls made Jack wonder if the blood oath had been the reason for Zalnic’s smugness while they bargained. No. The satisfaction gained from such a small act of cruelty must be trivial to the lord of the underworld. Jack’s gut feeling of suspicion remained.

  His cynicism was substantiated by Zalnic’s next words.

  “Bring in the prisoner!”

  Chapter 11

  The Rescue />
  A cold slice of fear cut through Jack as the door again scraped open.

  Megedagik entered with a girl slung over his shoulder. He dumped her on the ground at Jack’s feet. Zalnic approached and laid a hand on her shoulder. She jerked and then rolled to her back with a moan as Jack fought to calm his racing heart. Her eyes fluttered open.

  It was Emma.

  “Where… where am I?” she mumbled. “Who’re you?”

  Jack bent down, hiding his alarm. If Emma was here, what happened to Natalie? He swallowed hard. “My name is Jack. And I’m going to get you out of here.”

  This was not part of the plan. Once Zalnic agreed to release Emma’s soul, Jack was going to admit to the underlord that he’d already stashed her in a safe place. Now he had no way of knowing Natalie’s fate. Had she been caught helping Emma escape?

  Emma rose to her elbows unsteadily and then sank back to the floor. With a hateful glare at Zalnic, Jack helped her sit, pulled her arm around his shoulder and drew her to her feet.

  The underworld god smirked and shrugged his shoulders.

  Jack pressed his lips together to keep from asking questions about Natalie. There was a slim chance she was safe, and until he knew differently, he wasn’t going to slip up and put her in jeopardy. He turned with Emma shuffling next to him and headed for the door.

  “Megedagik, escort them to the Void.”

  Jack froze at the words and looked back over his shoulder. “Our deal?”

  Zalnic laughed. “Is sealed by our handshake. I’m doing you a favor. It’s the fastest way back to the living world.”

  Megedagik strode past Jack and Emma to the door. As he passed, Emma shrank against Jack with a small whimper. The Enuuki opened the door and barked out orders Jack didn’t catch, then stood waiting, his smoldering eyes marking their slow progress. By the time they made it outside, a vehicle had been parked at the front of the citadel.

  In the murky half-light, Jack’s first thought was of a go-cart. The contraption had two large tires on the back with a smaller tire in front. Completely open, even the small motor in front of the cockpit was exposed. The passenger compartment resembled a crate made from the same black wood Jack had noticed earlier.

  The Enuuki gestured toward the vehicle. Jack didn’t like it, yet he had a reason to believe Zalnic spoke the truth—Eric remembered being hurled into an abyss. Thing was, he had to get Megedagik off their back so he could find Natalie. He scrambled for a solution as he helped Emma into the back of the cart.

  The vehicle left the compound from a side gate and Jack tried his best to pay attention to the surroundings so he could get back to the fortress. He noticed there was no sign of smoke in any direction. When the vehicle stopped, Zalnic’s lair remained a distinct glow on the horizon. The Enuuki growled at them from the driver’s seat, motioning for them to get out, and at the sound, Emma buried her face in Jack’s chest. He held her for a moment, making low, soothing noises. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” he whispered.

  Once they were on their feet, the Enuuki herded them toward a vast opening many times larger than the crevices Jack and Natalie had dodged on the way to the fortress. Jack turned to Megedagik. “Okay, we’re good. You can go now.”

  The creature stood unmoving, its red eyes radiant in the dimness.

  With Emma clinging to him, Jack sat down near the edge of the abyss to demonstrate their intention to leave. The hole was made up of unearthly blackness. Past the lip of the chasm, Jack could see nothing, not even walls. The space seemed the polar opposite of existence. He made a last attempt to get rid of their escort. “Just go, dude. You’re scaring her.”

  The Enuuki opened its muzzle, forming a nightmarish grin. Then it lifted its clawed foot and shoved Jack over the edge. He yelled as he plummeted into the void and heard Emma’s scream follow as she, too, catapulted into space.

  Chirping crickets rang in Jack’s ears. Flat on his back, he scanned the canopy of trees above him, his nose picking up the smell of campfires. Fallen leaves rustled nearby. He sat up and saw Emma struggling to do the same, fear and confusion knotting her brow. Behind her, the silhouette of a camper was visible through the trees.

  They were back.

  He wanted to wail in despair. Natalie. Oh God, no.

  He’d left her behind in the underworld.

  Propped up on her hands, Emma studied him warily.

  “I’m a friend of Natalie’s,” he said, unsure what she remembered. “You remember who Natalie is?”

  She nodded and he caught the gleam of tears pooling in her eyes.

  “It’s okay,” he murmured. Inside, he was screaming that it was not okay. He blinked rapidly to chase away the sting in his own eyes. His knee-jerk reaction was to leave Emma with some nearby campers—he remembered a site in particular with kid’s bikes and colorful lights out front that should be safe—and he’d descend back into the underworld and find Natalie. Rising to his feet, he lifted his face to search the sky. His heart sank when he detected the gray light of dawn creeping over the eastern horizon.

  He swore under his breath.

  The window was closed. He’d have to wait for the next moonrise.

  He helped Emma to her feet. “Come on.” He spoke with quiet resignation. “I’ll take you home.”

  The rearview mirror reflected the blinding light of the rising sun, though Jack barely noticed. He careened onto a dirt road and floored it. Natalie’s car skidded over gravel as he turned into Brody’s driveway.

  His adviser must have heard the car because Brody opened the door before Jack knocked. “Jack! You made it back.” He knotted the belt to his robe, the excitement in his eyes dying as he got a good look at his student’s face. “What happened?” He guided Jack inside with a hand on his shoulder.

  “I need to get back. Now. I can’t wait until tonight. Is there a way?” Jack babbled, finally allowing his panic to surface.

  “Slow down, Jack.” Brody pushed him into a chair and made him wait while he retrieved a glass of water and handed it to him. “Okay, now tell me what happened so I can help you.”

  “Natalie’s still there. In the underworld.” The surprised look on his teacher’s face nearly pushed Jack over the edge. He put the untouched water on a side table and buried his head in his hands, hitching in a breath. The homey smell of coffee and toast intensified his despair. “I left her. I didn’t have a choice.” His encounter with Zalnic had played over and over in his head enough times to convince Jack that Natalie was surely a prisoner in the underworld. He relayed the night’s events in a monotone voice. “It shouldn’t have been that easy.” He avoided meeting his adviser’s gaze. “How could I be stupid enough to think he was just going to let me go?”

  “But you brought back the other girl?”

  “Yeah, I pretty much left her on her doorstep.” Good thing Natalie had pointed out Emma’s house. He stayed with Emma on the porch until the lights in the foyer came on and then he’d melted into the shadows. Even her mother’s cry of joy couldn’t crack his shell of remorse. He’d achieved nothing—merely traded one girl for another.

  “Jack, you don’t know for sure if Natalie was captured.”

  Jack pictured Zalnic’s sly smile, the whispered conversation with Megedagik. “She was,” he muttered. “Zalnic won.”

  “Not if you get her back.”

  Jack finally looked Brody in the eyes. He straightened in his chair and let his head bump against the back. “Sure. But I need to go back now. Is there a way?” He didn’t dare to hope. He knew the answer.

  “Not physically. Only in spirit.”

  “So I wouldn’t be able to rescue her.”

  “No, but you may be able to help her rescue herself.”

  Jack brought his head forward. “Show her the way?” A spark of optimism ignited inside him and he nodded thoughtfully. His brain broke free of the numbness, exploring the idea. “Yeah, it could work. I could check the way ahead to make sure she wouldn’t get caught, maybe cause a dist
raction or something.” Then he frowned. “I’m not sure if I can find the void again, though.”

  “Then lead her somewhere safe and descend tonight in the flesh to bring her back.”

  Jack cocked his head sideways, raising his eyebrows. “Okay. Yeah. It’s certainly worth a try. She has to know I haven’t abandoned her.”

  “All right, so our next problem is that you’re not prepared to spirit-walk.”

  “Right. No time to fast and meditate. But I thought David told me there are other ways. You know how, don’t you?”

  His adviser deflected Jack’s question. “Also, you can’t spirit-walk to a living entity. You’ll need to seek the guidance of a soul—preferably an ancestor.”

  “Okay.”

  “Without meditation to call your ancestor, you’ll need some kind of link—like a possession of the person—and there still is a chance you won’t make contact.”

  “Whatever. I have to try.”

  Brody nodded. “We can try to induce the trance. But you realize, Jack, it’s dangerous doing it that way? Men have left and never returned to their bodies.”

  Jack met the older shifter’s eyes with his own unwavering stare. “It’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

  Chapter 12

  Spirit-Walk

  Jack took a swallow of the bitter brew Brody gave him. The tea was barely reminiscent of seekers tea, which he usually enjoyed, but he drank it quickly without flinching and placed the empty cup on the table. He’d been relieved to find his house empty when he arrived to retrieve his grandfather’s tincture pouch; still, the time it took to drive there, find the pouch and then drive back already seemed too great a delay.

  “Will you call my dad at the shop and let him know what’s going on?”

  “Of course.”

  Jack perched on the edge of the chair, his knee bouncing restlessly. “How long before it kicks in?”