"Among other things."
"Well, there's a reason we're hanging out in this box...and it's not for the scenery."
"We're trapped," the boy said. "It's like we aren't--"
He disappeared. A moment later he returned, still talking.
Seeing my expression, he said, "I faded out, didn't I? It happens. It just started happening awhile ago. Just now and then at first, then more and more."
Fading. Like the children.
"Anyway, as I was saying, it's like we aren't really ghosts. I mean, we are because I pass through you." He demonstrated by walking through Hope's still-sleeping form. "But the walls are real, even for us. That doesn't mean a ghost can't get in, though."
The man rolled his eyes at this youthful optimism. I took out the ring to summon Eve again. As I pulled it out, my fingers brushed a folded piece of paper. Jeremy's protection ward. I touched it, and let out a deep breath. "Even if my friend can't get here, I know someone who will."
"If he tries to break you out, he'll end up in here with us."
"That's fine. No metal door can hold him in a room."
I walked the perimeter, feeling the walls, then searching the center. It was small, as the man said. A concrete box with a drain in the middle of the floor.
"I thought you said help was coming," the man said, voice dripping sarcasm.
I knelt, squeezed my fingers into the drain grid and tugged. Bolted down. Maybe, with enough pulling, I could get it off, but the man was right--unless I could turn into a mouse, it wasn't going to help.
"What's this for anyway?" I said, down on all fours, peering into the dark drain.
Silence.
I glanced back at the ghosts. The boy shifting under my gaze. Even the man looked away.
"There's no tap in here. So what would they need to drain away?"
"Blood," the man said after a minute. "That's what this place is. A killing room."
"HOPE?" I shook her shoulder harder. "Hope? Come on. Wake up!"
I'd been trying to rouse her for at least five minutes. Five long and precious minutes. Twice she'd stirred, only to fall back asleep without opening her eyes. Had they drugged her? Or had I hit her harder than I thought?
There'd been no sign of Eve. Whatever magic these people had used to keep ghosts in here was either keeping her out or preventing her from hearing my call.
As for Jeremy, I couldn't wait for rescue. Not this time.
"Hope. Hope!"
She mumbled something, her eyes still closed. I drew back my hand and slapped her. She started awake, eyes wide and unseeing, kicking and flailing.
"Hope! Stop--"
Her foot connected with my shin.
"Ow. It's me. It's--"
Fingernails raked across my cheek, coming dangerously close to my eye. I grabbed her by the wrists, pinned them at her sides and leaned over her.
"Hope, it's me, Jaime. I know it's dark and you can't see anything, but we're in trouble and I need you to listen."
I TOLD her what had happened. As I spoke, she just lay there, not reacting. I explained why I'd hit her with the gun. I told her about our solid concrete cell. I even pointed out the drain, its purpose and what that probably said about why we were in here. She sat through it all, unflinching.