The Gift

Chapter 15

Whit

My temples are pounding, and the edges of my vision swirl. My heart feels as if it's trying to climb up into my throat. I have to find her. Have to get back to the Shadowland. Need to be swallowed by Celia's beautiful eyes, her hair, her scent. I have to merge with her at least one more time.

I leave the phone in my sister's hands, push through the others, and take off running toward the store's loading dock. There's a portal there, a portal I've promised Wisty I'd never take alone.

That's unfortunate, but I need this-I need Celia. I have no free will in this matter.

I charge toward the portal wall at a sprint, figuring if it's been closed off since I was last here, it will serve me right to run full-speed into brick and mortar, maybe knock some sense into me.

It gives, but traveling the portal is like swimming through stone. It feels like an impossible task to break through, but finally I'm soaking in the vaguely familiar, penetrating dark and cold of the Shadowland.

It's an extraordinarily bizarre place between realities, full of wandering Half-lights-souls of the dead who are stuck here, who can sometimes find their way through to a world but who can't stay for long. Like ghosts slipping in and out of purgatory, I think to myself.

"Celia!" I yell at the top of my voice. "Celia, it's me! Whit! I'm right here."

I want to be everywhere at once, to bridge the vastness and strangeness of this place in an instant. The problem is that keeping your bearings in the Shadowland is like getting oriented in the middle of an ocean on a bleak and foggy day. Without a GPS. Or a compass. And maybe with a bucket over your head.

I can't allow myself to get lost. But I don't know where to go. "Ce-li-a!" I turn and yell in another direction. Wandering away from the portal could be disastrous. I've never been here alone before. I've been warned against it.

This time I get a response.

Only it's not the response I've been aching for. It's a terrible moan that makes my heart feel as if it's been skewered by an icicle.

The moan trails off, and then there's another one, even louder, closer.

Disaster. I've attracted the attention of Lost Ones-less-than-angelic humans who have been in the Shadowland so long that they've become like rotting souls. Like monsters, I suppose.

I turn and feel around for the way out. Where is the portal?

I can't find it-there's just this cold, damp fog everywhere.

They're getting even closer. I can feel their cold and smell their mustiness. Think! Think! Think!

I definitely see something moving toward me. A dark shape in the fog-low, limping, searching. I spin a quarter turn to my left-and there's another disturbance in the mist… or three… or six.

This could be the end for sure.

Another quarter turn-the portal's got to be in front of me, or maybe just a bit to the left -

There-I can feel something, or…

Ooomf.

I'm on the ground. On my back. Without my breath. Then I hear fabric tearing. My shirt?

My eyes are open, but all I can make out are the terrible shapes, figures made of flesh but also smoke. A dozen cold hands are upon me, restraining me as if I'm on an operating table.

Am I on an operating table? What in God's name do they want?

What is that snapping sound? That sensation in my shoulder? I feel as if my flesh is being pulled, pushed, torn, even. It doesn't hurt, though. Am I too cold? Or in shock?

All I see for certain are wicked, broken, jagged teeth.

I tell myself not to, but I can't help it: I scream. "Celia!" I wail, realizing this will probably be the last thing I'll ever say. "I love you!"

They've pinned me down. They're biting me. They're eating me, aren't they?

But then I hear a new noise through the fog. Can it be?

A bark!

"Feffer!" I shout. And the biting stops. Or, at least, it pauses. Do the Lost Ones sense the dog? Another piece of fresh meat for them?

I look at the gaping wraith faces as they cast glowing yellow eyes around for the source of the noise. One of them starts moaning again. I look into its shadow-planed face and I recognize who it is. I'm in shock.

Am I hallucinating, or is it the traitor of all traitors-Tall Jonathan?

Jonathan was a Freelander who'd betrayed one of our most important missions. Wisty almost died because of him. For a moment, it makes me almost happy to see him as a creature of ravenous evil.

"Jonathan?" I say, but then he's retreated into the mist. There's a frenzy of furious moaning and snarling to my left. Either Feffer's on the attack or the poor dog is making her last stand. The next thing I know, a large brown shape is tugging at my tattered shirt.

"Feff!" I gasp as Jonathan resurfaces and lunges toward me again, along with a half dozen other horrifying shadow creatures who seem to be drooling.

I stagger after the fearless dog, and though I've never been more glad to be alive, I almost hesitate as Feffer plunges back through the portal.

Where is Celia?