Wanted by the Alphas(51)

“What is this place?” Jared breathes.

“This is Pangaea, the world between worlds,” Lucien says. “Do not eat or drink anything here unless bidden.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Jared says.

“Pangaea?” Kirk asks.

“It is one of the netherworlds accessible by certain portals, like the one I created with the katana and the hieroglyphs. Living people do not wander into this, except for a few who can ‘travel’ between worlds. One of my ancestors, Magda, could do this.”

“And the dead?” Kirk says in trepidation. “Are they here?”

“No. This is not the afterworld, although there are creatures here who would have you believe so. Also do not engage anyone in conversation unless I tell you to. The creatures here cannot be trusted.”

Shannon takes all this in half-dazedly. Her body is too light, and she still cannot feel all her limbs. Even Lucien, Kirk and Jared are not fully corporeal. Their skins are too bright, too real. Jared’s hue is slightly dimmer.

They are all naked.

She looks down at herself. She too is naked. But her flesh texture is far, far fainter than the rest of them, as if she is already part ghost.

And maybe she is.

She is alarmed.

“Lucien, Kirk.” Even her voice sounds strange in her ears, as if she is speaking through a fluted vessel. “Why am I different?”

Lucien holds his hand out to her. He is clearly distressed, as is Kirk. Jared is looking around him, thoroughly baffled. She grips Lucien’s hand. His touch is barely there, as if she is already intangible.

“Shannon.” Kirk’s beautiful face is a rictus of fear. “Don’t leave us.”

“I don’t want to leave you!”

But she is fading fast, winking in and out, as if she is a television image that is being interrupted by static.

“Quick,” Lucien urges. In this place, he resembles an Impressionist painting of a blond-haired, blue-eyed angel from one of the French masters. “Bring her to the stream.”

Together, they grip her hands and pull her to the kaleidoscopic stream. It is as if her feet are floating, they hardly touch the ground.

“Can the waters heal her?” Kirk asks.

“No. We need the ferryman.”

“Where is he?”

Lucien points downstream. “There.”

Shannon blinks. Sure enough, she can make out a robed figure poling a barge up the stream, struggling against the current. The figure comes closer in stops and starts. She would blink, and the barge is suddenly much closer.

“Hurry,” Kirk says more to himself, “she is very weak.”

They stand upon the banks of the eddying stream as the ferryman approaches. The ferryman wears a brown robe with a cowl, and Shannon cannot make out his features in the darkness of his face. But when she gazes upon his hands, she finds that they are extremely skeletal. Not quite bone, but with only a thin layer of yellowed skin covering his knobby fingers and knuckles.

His hands curve around a wooden pole which has one end mired deep in the water of the stream. Shannon thinks she can see creatures running around in the substance of the pole, but when she stares directly at it, it once again turns into wood.

“Ferryman,” Lucien addresses the figure respectfully. “We have a boon to ask of you.”

The ferryman does not reply.

Both Lucien and Kirk are holding Shannon up.

“Please grant this one the gift of further life,” Lucien says. “It is not her turn to go.”

The ferryman says in a raspy voice, “What will you offer in exchange for her life?”

Lucien says, “What do you wish?”

The air between them curls menacingly as the ferryman contemplates this.

He says, “You, witch, have given up your heritage for this woman. You will be excommunicated from your family and coven, shunned from your own community of witches for shaming them. You have given up your considerable inheritance, which will cripple you greatly.”

“Yes.”

“Is she worth it?” the ferryman challenges.

Lucien glances at Shannon, and says, “Yes. I would do it again in a heartbeat. I love her and I do not want her to die.”

The ferryman turns to Kirk.

“You, shapeshifter, have been transformed by this woman. You are beginning to question everything in your life and your status as the alpha in your community. You believe you have found your lifelong mate and you intend to remain true to this woman.”

“Yes, that is true.” Kirk glances at Shannon. “I would do anything for her.”

“Good. Because we have need of your skills, the both of you.” The ferryman’s tone is insidious as he cackles. “Additionally, your living flesh is craved by many beings here. We will be calling upon you soon enough, witch and shapeshifter, when the time is upon us. Do you agree to this?”