Ghost Town Page 0,111

quietly, to Claire. The fact that he asked her made her feel a little faint; it felt like . . . trust.

No, it was trust. Trust she hadn't earned, but something that felt unbearably precious to her.

Claire tried to sound confident. "I think so," she said. "Just watch your back, okay?"

"Nah, Michael's got mine." He looked straight into her eyes. "I've got yours."

Shane jumped into the darkness, and took Claire with him.

On the other side, it was just as black--a kind of darkness that made panic twist up in a hard, hot knot in Claire's stomach. She knew this darkness. She'd been in it before.

"Easy," Frank Collins said, and she felt his hand grab her shoulder to keep her still. "Don't move."

"There are holes in the floor," she said. "Pits. Can you see them?" She hoped he could; all the vampires she'd ever known could. She and Shane and Eve were about as blind as it was possible to be.

"Yeah, I see it. Hang on; I've got a light." That was Frank Collins speaking from somewhere right behind her. Light blazed out in a pure white cone that lanced out over rocks and pale, angular juts of quartz, sharp as razors. They were in a big cavern, silent except for the echoes of their movements and voices. "Nobody move."

He was right, because the area where they'd come through was the only reliably safe spot in the room. The rock floor was pitted with inky black holes that led, for all Claire knew, down to the center of the earth and out the other side. Not only that, but she knew from experience that where the rock looked solid, it probably wasn't. It was like a maze, and the last time Claire had been here, Myrnin had helped her through. He wouldn't be doing that now. He'd be trying to send her screaming to her death, along with everyone accompanying her. She swallowed hard; in the distance she saw a metal eyebolt driven deep into the rocks, and a length of silver chain. He'd been imprisoned here, once, when he'd been . . . more himself.

But he might not remember that now. Or care that he'd tried to save her life.

"I know the way," she said softly, and took the flashlight from Frank. She tested every step carefully; some of the solid-seeming rock was fragile, eaten away beneath by unseen underground rivers that were long gone. Her foot broke through twice, and only Shane's grip on her arm kept her from falling forward the second time.

It seemed agonizingly slow, making their way along the little path. Even the vampires seemed to take each step with great care. Claire supposed it might be an even worse nightmare for them, plummeting down an endless black tunnel; what if they couldn't get back out? How long could they survive down there without blood, or light? And if they did survive . . . that might almost be worse.

Claire was worried most about Michael. He'd taken a lot of abuse already, and now Shane was quietly taking his other arm, helping Eve, who was starting to stagger under Michael's weight. He'll be okay, she thought. She had to believe that, and focus.

A sound went through the cavern, like a sigh; she frowned, wondering what had caused it. It wasn't wind; there was no breath of a draft in here, just cool, damp air that weighed down heavily over her skin. She shivered and waited a second, but the sound didn't come again.

Then she felt a whisper of air against her face--an unmistakable stirring that ruffled her hair. Claire pointed the flashlight in the direction from which the wind had come, but she saw nothing there. Nothing but the treacherous rock floor, the glittering quartz crystals jutting from the walls, and the dark, silent chasms that spread out in sheets.

Claire made her way carefully toward another patch of apparently solid rock, and as she did so, she felt the breeze again, more strongly.

It wasn't coming from above, or even from the walls.

It blew up straight out of the darkness. Claire braced herself carefully and turned the light downward, into the pit, trying to see what might be going on. Nothing. The darkness swallowed the flashlight's glow without a trace.

Claire put out her hand. Definitely that was a cool breeze blowing up, as if a fan had been turned on.

She felt a little funny, suddenly. A little faint. A little . . . woozy.

"Hey!" Shane said, and