Free Everfound by Neal Shusterman Page A

difference in the battle for souls in Everlost.
    Before he knew it, his form transformed back into that of a human, and with what little strength he had left, he reached out and grabbed the hand of the Chocolate Ogre, who was already beginning to sink back into the earth.
    “We’ve got to keep moving now,” he reminded the Ogre. “If we don’t, we’ll sink again.”
    “It’s bright here,” the Ogre said. “Where are we? Where are we going?”
    “We’re going to rescue Allie,” he told the Ogre. “I don’t know where we are right now, but we’ll figure it out soon enough.”
    Then a succulent aroma came to them, so pungent, it overcame the rich smell of chocolate.
    “Do you smell that?” said the Ogre. “It smells good!”
    Mikey was wary. He knew that in Everlost that which was pleasing to the senses was sometimes the tip of something much less pleasant. “Whatever it is, let’s avoid it.”
    But like a dog fixed on a scent, the Ogre couldn’t resist. He determined the direction of the smell, and took off after it.
    “Nick, no!”
    Mikey ran after him, trying to stop him—but foundthat his feet were still welded into a thorn-encrusted whale fluke. He fell flat on his face, and by the time he had transformed his fluke into two human legs, the Chocolate Ogre was bounding away.
    There was a honey ham, glistening, as if it had come right off a holiday table, stuck into a post that had crossed into Everlost. Like all Everlost food, it was perfectly preserved and at the peak of flavor.
    “Nick, don’t touch it!”
    But nothing could stop the Chocolate Ogre now.
    Mikey caught up with him just as he grabbed the ham, and the instant he did, a trap sprang up around them both, locking into place. It was a cage! They were locked in a cage!
    “Now look what you’ve done!” shouted Mikey, but the Ogre didn’t seem to care. He just joyfully sunk his dark teeth into the ham, leaving behind a ring of chocolate with every bite he took.
    There was a shout of glee, then strange maniacal laughter coming from a farmhouse that was slowly decaying itself into Everlost. A figure left the porch, approaching them. As the figure limped closer, Mikey could see that he was alive, but not entirely.
    And for the first time in a very, very long time, Mikey McGill was truly afraid.
    In her book Everything You Wanted to Know About Everlost, but Were Ashamed to Ask , Mary Hightower has this to say about scar wraiths:
    “Scar wraiths do not exist, plain and simple. The very idea that someone could be part-way in and part-way out of Everlost is preposterous. Either you are blessed with admission into Everlost, or you are not. As for those awful legends about a scar wraith’s ability to extinguish an Everlost soul and wipe it out of existence, those legends are entirely false. Nothing can hurt an Afterlight, much less kill one. Let me say this again, in case there is any doubt. Scar wraiths do not exist. However, if you see one, please report it to an authority.”
     

CHAPTER 10
Wraith, Wraith, Go Away
     
    M ikey screamed.
    He had never screamed in all his years in Everlost, but this was something stranger and more horrible than anything he had ever seen: a man who existed part in and part out of Everlost. That steely gray eye, that cheek—and even one hand that almost seemed to hang in the air in front of the hazy blur of his living body—and where his Everflesh attached to his living flesh was an angry red line that sparked like a short circuit.
    Mikey knew the scar wraith legend. It was second only to scary stories about himself when he was the McGill. According to the legend, just the brush of an arm, the grip of a shoulder, the caress of a cheek from a scar wraith’s hand would “kill” an Afterlight. But worse than dying, the Afterlight would extinguish. No light. No tunnel. Nothing. The touch of a scar wraith meant absolute death.
    “Well, well, well, what have we got here . . . ,” the scar wraith said, his eagle