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They didn't talk much.
Miranda came back about the time that Claire was rinsing out the soup cups.
"I'm sorry," Miranda said, and hugged her. Claire threw her arms around the girl and squeezed tightly; for the first time, she felt like someone had truly forgiven her and understood how she felt. "I couldn't do anything today. Michael left; he wouldn't say anything to me, and then Shane-he drank too much, you know. It scared me. I thought he was going to do something-something bad. But he didn't."
It would have scared Claire, if she'd known it. "But Eve's okay; that's the important thing," she said. "We'l -we'l fix this. Somehow."
"Is it true?" Miranda pulled back to hold her at arm's length. "Shane said-Shane said you were with Michael, behind his back. But you weren't, were you?"
"No. No, never!"
"I believe you." Miranda held her hands and sat her down at the kitchen table. "I did what you asked. I got out and tried to listen to what the other ghosts were saying. I didn't talk to them, exactly, because it's dangerous to get their attention; they were still following Jenna, trying to tel her things, so that's why I was able to hear so much."
For the first time, Claire felt a surge of something that might have been hope. "Did you hear anything about Myrnin?"
"No," Miranda said. "I'm sorry. But I did hear something weird; maybe it could mean something." The hope was just a pale flicker now, but Claire nodded anyway. "One of them said a spider was in a hole under the white tree. And another one said-Claire, I'm really not sure this is about him at all, you understand-that something was climbing up, but the sun would burn it away."
That didn't help at all. Claire felt a white-hot urge to break something in frustration, or punch a wal , Shane-style, but she knew it wouldn't help.
Nothing would help, except figuring something out for a change.
Think, she told herself. Breathe. If she could find Myrnin, that would be something, at least. Something positive, in allthis devastation.
Something climbing. Hole by the white tree. Was he climbing up in a hole by a white tree? That didn't make any sense. There weren't any white trees in Morganville. Was he even here, in this town? If he wasn't, she couldn't help him at all.
No, he's here. Think. Think!
White tree. That had to mean something. It must be a landmark, so it had to be something she could remember. But what...?
"The ghost who was talking about the white tree," Claire said. "Do you know where he came from?"
"I think he died at the Sleep Inne over near the edge of town. You know that one?" Claire did. It was bland and forgettable, and there were no trees of any kind that way. "I guess his body is buried in the cemetery."
The cemetery, Claire thought. They'd remarked on it from the first, how it alllooked so photogenic. That big dead tree, Angel had said. Such a striking color.
Because it was dead, and it was...
Claire's eyes opened wide. "The tree. The cemetery tree, it's white, right?"
"I guess. It's dead and the bark is allpeeled off and it looks white."
"So it's at the cemetery," Claire blurted, and opened her eyes. "It's got to be there, whatever this-this hole is. That's where Myrnin is. He's in the hole, in water. And there's some kind of a grate on top, with a cross; Jenna said she saw that in a vision. Mir, I have to go, right now. Can you stay with Eve?"
"I-wel , yes, but you can't go out there in the dark, allalone!"
"I have to. Myrnin may be the only one left who can help us get through this, and your other ghost said the sun wil burn it away. If he's in a hole in the ground, and the sun comes up, he could burn in there. I can't let that happen."
"I can't go with you! If I did, the other ghosts-they'd be allover me. I have to stay in the house. And Eve's too sick."
"Then I'll cal Shane," Claire shot back, and pulled out her phone. She paced as it rang, and rang, and rang, and went to voice mail. She hung up and texted him, with a 911. No details. And finally, after five long minutes, he cal ed back.
"Don't hang up," she said. "I need your help."
"Is it Eve?"
"No," she said reluctantly.
"Then no."
"Wait! Wait, listen to me. I have to go to the cemetery. There's-someone's in trouble, Shane. If you don't go with me, I have to go alone.
Please. I know you're angry at me, but-but be angry tomorrow. Tonight, just please, do this for me." He was silent on the other end, but she could hear the uneven hitch of his breathing. "Shane, please. One time."
"Who's in trouble?"
She'd been afraid he'd ask that. But she couldn't lie. Claire squeezed her eyes shut and said, "Myrnin."
Shane hung up. Claire screamed, a raw and wild sound, and threw the phone violently on the table. Miranda's eyes were round as saucers.
"Wow," she said. "So...you're not going?"
"No," Claire said grimly. "I am going. Alone."
Eve's hearse was still parked out on the curb. Miranda argued with Claire allthe way out to the picket fence, but she wasn't listening anymore. She'd put on Eve's long leather coat over her jeans and plain black shirt, and brought along a heavy canvas bag ful of weapons, plus her own backpack, which had allkinds of things she might need-even textbooks, if she got study time. At the very least, they were a kind of paper-based armor she could put between herself and something attacking her.
"But-what do I do if you don't come back?" Miranda asked frantically as Claire settled in the driver's seat. The Grim Reaper on the dash shivered and nodded its head, eye-lights flashing. "Claire! Who do I cal ?"
"Cal Shane," she said. "Maybe he'l feel bad if I'm dead. But make sure Eve's okay, and give her the medication she needs just before sunrise. Do not let her get up and do anything, and if she starts to run a fever, cal the hospital and get them to send the ambulance. Promise me."
"I wil ." Miranda looked on the verge of tears. "This is bad. This is a really bad idea...."
"I'm open to suggestions." When the other girl didn't offer any, Claire shook her head. "Wish me luck."
"I-" Miranda sighed. "Good luck. I'll wait for you to come back, and if you're not back before sunrise, I'll cal ...somebody. Amelie. I'll call Amelie."
"Don't do that," Claire said. "Because it might be Amelie. Okay?"
"But-"
Claire didn't give her time to argue.
The hearse drove differently from any other car she'd tried in her very limited driving experience.... It was heavy, hard to manage, and had terrible stopping distance, as she found when she rolled through a stop light while pumping the brakes. Luckily, no Morganville police cruisers caught sight of her. She passed some custom-tinted vampire cars. No one tried to stop her.
Claire drove the mile, give or take, out to the cemetery, which brushed the limits of the Morganville township. The place was surrounded by a thick stone wal and had heavy wrought-iron gates; the lightning-struck dead white tree loomed high, allspiky branches and intimidating angles. The gates were locked, of course. Claire considered ramming them, but she knew Eve would never forgive her for it, so she strapped the canvas bag over her shoulders, on top of her backpack, and climbed. The iron was cold and slick under her fingers, but there were plenty of crossbars, and she managed to make it to the top, then slipped down the other side.
Morganville Cemetery was an old one, back to pioneer days, ful of time-sanded headstones that were hardly readable anymore, thanks to the constant wind. What grass there was grew fitfully. Nobody visited here with any reliability; the newer cemetery, Redeemer, was closer to the center of town, and that was where present-day burials were done. This was mostly just here for historical value.
It wasn't a very likely spot for vampires to hang out, at least; there hadn't been anyone with a pulse visiting the place in years. But it was still plenty creepy, all right-shadows like black knives across the ground, harsh and sharp in the moonlight. Tree branches rattled like dry bones. Claire was headed for the tree when she saw the vampires appear on top of the wal and drop easily down, landing without breaking their stride.
There were two of them, moving together. One had pale hair; the other had graying locks.
Amelie and Oliver?
She dropped to the ground behind a large carved angel and hoped that it would be enough to hide her. She also hoped she hadn't landed on one of the huge fire ant mounds that dotted the grounds; if she had, this was going to be a very short and unpleasant adventure. If the fire ants didn't bite her into a coma, the vampires would.
