Elena tried to stifle a yawn in a ladylike way. Stefan? she asked. Can you get us out of here — without picking me up — and to your room?
“I think we’ve all had enough stress this morning,” Stefan said in his own gentle voice. “Mrs. Flowers, Meredith is in the first-floor bedroom — she’ll probably sleep very late. Matt—”
“I know, I know. I don’t know where the schedule went but I might as well make it my night.” Matt presented an arm to Stefan.
Stefan looked surprised. Darling, you can never have too much blood, Elena thought to him, seriously and straightforwardly.
“Mrs. Flowers and I will be in the kitchen,” she said aloud.
When they were there, Mrs. Flowers said, “Don’t forget to thank Stefan for defending the boardinghouse for me.”
“He did it because it’s our home,” Elena said, and went back into the hall, where Stefan was thanking a flushing Matt.
And then Mrs. Flowers called Matt into the kitchen and Elena found herself swooped up in lithe, hard arms and then they were gaining altitude rapidly, with the wood staircase emitting little creaks and groans of protest. And finally they were in Stefan’s room and Elena was in Stefan’s arms.
There was no better place to be, or anything else either of them really wanted now, Elena thought and turned her face up as Stefan turned his down and they began with a long slow kiss. And then the kiss went molten, and Elena had to cling to Stefan, who was already holding her with arms that could have cracked granite, but only squeezed her exactly as tightly as she wanted them to.
Elena, sleeping serenely with one hand locked onto Stefan’s, knew she was having an extraordinary dream. No, not a dream — an out-of-body experience. But it wasn’t like her previous out-of-body visits to Stefan in his cell. She was skimming through the air so quickly that she couldn’t really make out what was below her.
She looked around and suddenly, to her astonishment, another figure appeared beside her.
“Bonnie!” she said — or rather tried to say. But of course there was no sound.
Bonnie looked like a transparent edition of herself. As if someone had created her out of blown glass, and then put in just the faintest tint of color in her hair and eyes.
Elena tried telepathy. Bonnie?
Elena! Oh, I miss you and Meredith so much! I’m stuck here in a holeA hole? Elena could hear the panic in her own telepathy. It made Bonnie wince.
Not a real hole. A dive. An inn, I guess, but I’m locked in and they only feed me twice a day and take me to the toilet onceMy God! How did you get there?
Well… Bonnie hesitated. I guess it was my own fault.
It doesn’t matter! How long have you been there, exactly?
Um, this is my second day. I think.
There was a pause. Then Elena said, Well, a couple of days in a bad place can seem like forever.
Bonnie tried to make her case clearer. It’s just that I’m so bored and lonely. I miss you and Meredith so much! she repeated.
I was thinking of you and Meredith, too, Elena said.
But Meredith’s there with you, isn’t she? Oh my God, she didn’t fall, too?
Bonnie blurted.
No, no! She didn’t fall. Elena couldn’t decide whether to tell Bonnie about Meredith or not. Maybe not just yet, she thought.
She couldn’t see what she was rushing toward, although she could feel that they were slowing down. Can you see anything?
Hey, yeah, below us! There’s a car! Should we go down?
Of course. Can we hold hands?
They found that they couldn’t, but that just trying to kept them closer together. In another moment they were sinking through the roof of a small car.
Hey! It’s Alaric! Bonnie said.
Alaric Saltzman was Meredith’s engaged-to-be-engaged boyfriend. He was about twenty-three now, and his sandy-blond hair and hazel eyes hadn’t changed since Elena had seen him almost ten months ago. He was a parapsychologist at Duke, going for his doctorate.
We’ve been trying to get hold of him for ages, Bonnie said.
I know. Maybe this is the way we’re supposed to contact him.
Where is he supposed to be again?
Some weird place in Japan. I forget what it’s called, but look at the map on the passenger seat.
She and Bonnie intermingled as they did, their ghostly forms passing right through each other.
Unmei no Shima: The Island of Doom, was written at the top of an outline of an island. The map beside him had a large red X on it with the caption: The Field of Punished Virgins.
The what? Bonnie asked indignantly. What’s that mean?
I don’t know. But look, this fog is real fog. And it’s raining. And this road is terrible.
Bonnie dove outside. Ooh, so weird. The rain’s going right through me. And I don’t think this is a road.
Elena said, Come back in and look at this. There aren’t any other cities on the island, just a name. Dr. Celia Connor, forensic pathologist.
What’s a forensic pathologist?
I think, Elena said, that they investigate murders and things. And they dig up dead people to find out why they died.
Bonnie shuddered. I don’t think I like this very much.
Neither do I. But look outside. This was a village once, I think.
There was almost nothing left of the village. Just a few ruins of wooden buildings that were obviously rotting, and some tumbledown, blackened stone structures.
There was one large building with an enormous bright yellow tarp over it.
When the car reached this building, Alaric skidded to a stop, grabbed the map and a small suitcase, and dashed through the rain and mud to get under cover.
Elena and Bonnie followed.
He was met near the entrance by a very young black woman, whose hair was cut short and sleek around her elfin face. She was small, not even Elena’s height. She had eyes dancing with excitement and white, even teeth that made for a Hollywood smile.
“Dr. Connor?” Alaric said, looking awed.
Meredith isn’t going to like this, Bonnie said.
“Just Celia, please,” the woman said, taking his hand. “Alaric Saltzman, I presume.”
“Just Alaric, please — Celia.”
Meredith really isn’t going to like this, Elena said.
“So you’re the spook investigator,” Celia was saying below them. “Well, we need you. This place has spooks — or did once. I don’t know if they’re still here or not.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“More like sad and morbid. Sad and weird and morbid. I’ve excavated all sorts of ruins, especially those where there’s a chance of genocide. And I’ll tell you: This island is unlike any place I have ever seen,” Celia said.
Alaric was already pulling things from his case, a thick stack of papers, a small camcorder, a notebook. He turned on the camcorder, and looked through the viewfinder, then propped it up with some of the papers. When he apparently had Celia in focus, he grabbed the notebook too.
Celia looked amused. “How many ways do you need to take down information?”
Alaric tapped the side of his head and shook it sadly. “As many as possible.
Neurons are beginning to go.” He looked around. “You’re not the only one here, are you?”
