Bonnie stared. "I don't remember anything about the bridge. It didn't feel like a bridge."
"But you said it yourself, at the end. I thought you remembered..." Elena's voice died away. "You don't remember that part," she said flatly. It was not a question.
"I remember being alone, somewhere cold and dark, and feeling weak... and thirsty. Or was it hungry? I don't know, but I needed... something. And I almost wanted to die. And then you woke me up."
Elena and Meredith exchanged a glance. "And after that," Elena said to Bonnie, "you said one more thing, in a strange voice. You said not to go near the bridge."
"She toldyou not to go near the bridge."
Meredith corrected. "You in particular, Elena. She said Death was waiting."
"I don't care what's waiting," said Elena. "If that's where Stefan is, that's where I'm going."
"Then that's where we're all going," said Meredith.
Elena hesitated. "I can't ask you to do that," she said slowly. "There might be danger - of a kind you don't know about. It might be best for me to go alone."
"Don't," said Elena quickly. "You were the one who said it wasn't a game."
"And not for Stefan, either," Meredith reminded them. "We're not doing him much good standing around here."
Elena was already shrugging out of her kimono, moving toward the closet. "We'd better all bundle up. Borrow anything you want to keep warm," she said.
When they were more or less dressed for the weather, Elena turned to the door. Then she stopped.
"Robert," she said. "There's no way we can get past him to the front door, even if he's asleep."
Simultaneously, the three of them turned to look at the window.
"Oh, wonderful," said Bonnie.
As they climbed out into the quince tree, Elena realized that it had stopped snowing. But the bite of the air on her cheek made her remember Damon's words. Winter is an unforgiving season, she thought, and shivered.
All the lights in the house were out, including those in the living room. Robert must have gone to sleep already. Even so, Elena held her breath as they crept past the darkened windows. Meredith's car was a little way down the street. At the last minute, Elena decided to get some rope, and she soundlessly opened the back door to the garage. There was a swift current in Drowning Creek, and wading would be dangerous.
The drive to the end of town was tense. As they passed the outskirts of the woods, Elena remembered the way the leaves had blown at her in the cemetery. Particularly oak leaves.
"Bonnie, do oak trees have any special significance? Did your grandmother ever say anything about them?"
"Well, they were sacred to the Druids. All trees were, but oak trees were the most sacred. They thought the spirit of the trees brought them power."
Elena digested that in silence. When they reached the bridge and got out of the car, she gave the oak trees on the right side of the road an uneasy glance. But the night was clear and strangely calm, and no breeze stirred the dry brown leaves left on the branches.
"Keep your eyes out for a crow," she said to Bonnie and Meredith.
"A crow?" Meredith said sharply. "Like the crow outside Bonnie's house the night Yangtze died?"
"The night Yangtze was killed. Yes." Elena approached the dark waters of Drowning Creek with a rapidly beating heart. Despite its name, it was not a creek, but a swiftly flowing river with banks of red native clay. Above it stood Wickery Bridge, a wooden structure built nearly a century ago. Once, it had been strong enough to support wagons; now it was just a footbridge that nobody used because it was so lay on the ground.
Despite her brave words earlier, Bonnie was hanging back. "Remember the last time we went over this bridge?" she said.
Too well, Elena thought. The last time they had crossed it, they were being chased by... something... from the graveyard. Or someone, she thought.
"We're not going over it yet," she said. "First we've got to look under it on this side."
"Where the old man was found with his throat torn open," Meredith muttered, but she followed. The car headlights illuminated only a small portion of the bank under the bridge. As Elena stepped out of the narrow wedge of light, she felt a sick thrill of foreboding. Death was waiting, the voice had said. Was Death down here?
Her feet slipped on the damp, scummy stones. All she could hear was the rushing of the water, and its hollow echo from the bridge above her head. And, though she strained her eyes, all she could see in the darkness was the raw riverbank and the wooden trestles of the bridge.
"Stefan?" she whispered, and she was almost glad that the noise of the water drowned her out. She felt like a person calling "who's there?" to an empty house, yet afraid of what might answer. "This isn't right," said Bonnie from behind her.
"What do you mean?" Bonnie was looking around, shaking her head slightly, her body taut with concentration. "It just feels wrong. I don't - well, for one thing I didn't hear the river before. I couldn't hear anything at all, just dead silence."
Elena's heart dropped with dismay. Part of her knew that Bonnie was right, that Stefan wasn't in this wild
and lonely place. But part of her was too scared to listen. "We've got to make sure," she said through the constriction in her chest, and she moved farther into the darkness, feeling her way along because she couldn't see. But at last she had to admit that there was no sign that any person had recently been here. No sign of a dark head in the water, either. She wiped cold muddy hands on her jeans.
"We can check the other side of the bridge," said Meredith, and Elena nodded mechanically. But she
didn't need to see Bonnie's expression to know what they'd find. This was the wrong place. "Let's just get out of here," she said, climbing through vegetation toward the wedge of light beyond the bridge. Just as she reached it, Elena froze.
Bonnie gasped. "Oh, God - " "Get back," hissed Meredith. "Up against the bank."
Clearly silhouetted against the car headlights above was a black figure. Elena, staring with a wildly It was moving toward them.
Ducking out of sight, Elena cowered back against the muddy riverbank under the bridge, pressing herself as flat as possible. She could feel Bonnie shaking behind her, and Meredith's fingers sank into her arm.
They could see nothing from here, but suddenly there was a heavy footfall on the bridge. Scarcely daring to breathe, they clung to one another, faces turned up. The heavy footsteps rang across the wooden planks, moving away from them.
Please let him keep going, thought Elena. Oh, please...
She sank her teeth into her lip, and then Bonnie whimpered softly, her icy hand clutching Elena's. The footsteps were coming back.
I should go out there, Elena thought. It's me he wants, not them. He said as much. I should go out there and face him, and maybe he'll let Bonnie and Meredith leave. But the fiery rage that had sustained her that morning was in ashes now. With all her strength of will, she could not make her hand let go of Bonnie's, could not tear herself away.
The footsteps sounded right above them. Then there was silence, followed by a slithering sound on the bank.
No, thought Elena, her body charged with fear. He was coming down. Bonnie moaned and buried her head against Elena's shoulder, and Elena felt every muscle tense as she saw movement - feet, legs - appear out of the darkness.No ...
"What are youdoing down there?"
Elena's mind refused to process this information at first. It was still panicking, and she almost screamed as Matt took another step down the bank, peering under the bridge.
"Elena? What are youdoing?" he said again.
Bonnie's head flew up. Meredith's breath exploded in relief. Elena herself felt as if her knees might give way.
"Matt," she said. It was all she could manage.
Bonnie was more vocal. "What do you thinkyou're doing?" she said in rising tones. "Trying to give us a heart attack? What are you out here for at this time of night?"
Matt thrust a hand into his pocket, rattling change. As they emerged from under the bridge, he stared out over the river. "I followed you."
"Youwhat ?" said Elena.
Reluctantly, he swung to face her. "I followed you," he repeated, shoulders tense. "I figured you'd find a way to get around your aunt and go out again. So I sat in my car across the street and watched your."
Elena didn't know what to say. She was angry, and of course, he had probably done it only to keep his promise to Stefan. But the thought of Matt sitting out there in his battered old Ford, probably freezing to death and without any supper... it gave her a strange pang she didn't want to dwell on.
He was looking out at the river again. She stepped closer to him and spoke quietly. "I'm sorry, Matt," she said. "About the way I acted back at the house, and - and about - " She fumbled for a minute and then gave up. About everything, she thought hopelessly.
"Well, I'm sorry for scaring you just now." He turned back briskly to face her, as if that settled the matter. "Now could you please tell me what you think you're doing?"
"Bonnie thought Stefan might be here."
"Bonnie didnot ," said Bonnie. "Bonnie said right away that it was the wrong place. We're looking for somewhere quiet, no noises, and closed in. I felt... surrounded," she explained to Matt.
Matt looked back at her warily, as if she might bite. "Sure you did," he said.
"There were rocks around me, but not like these river rocks."
"Uh, no, of course they weren't." He looked sideways at Meredith, who took pity on him.
"Bonnie had a vision," she said.
Matt backed up a little, and Elena could see his profile in the headlights. From his expression, she could tell he didn't know whether to walk away or to round them all up and cart them to the nearest insane asylum.
"It's no joke," she said. "Bonnie's psychic, Matt. I know I've always said I didn't believe in that sort of thing, but I've been wrong. You don't know how wrong. Tonight, she - she tuned in to Stefan somehow and got a glimpse of where he is."
Matt drew a long breath. "I see. Okay..."
"Don't patronize me! I'm not stupid, Matt, and I'm telling you this is for real. She was there, with Stefan; she knew things only he would know. And she saw the place he's trapped in."
"Trapped," said Bonnie. "That's it. It was definitely nothing open like a river. But there was water, water up to my neck.His neck. And rock walls around, covered with thick moss. The water was ice cold and still, and it smelled bad."
"But what did you see?" Elena said.
"Nothing. It was like being blind. Somehow I knew that if there was even the faintest ray of light I would be able to see, but I couldn't. It was black as a tomb."
"As a tomb..." Thin chills went through Elena. She thought about the ruined church on the hill above the graveyard. There was a tomb there, a tomb she thought had opened once.
"No... but I don't get any sense of where itcould be then," Bonnie said. "Stefan wasn't really in his right mind; he was so weak and hurt. And so thirsty - "
Elena opened her mouth to stop Bonnie from going on, but just then Matt broke in.
"I'll tell you what it sounds like to me," he said.
The three girls looked at him, standing slightly apart from their group like an eavesdropper. They had almost forgotten about him.
"Well?" said Elena.
"Exactly," he said. "I mean, it sounds like a well."
Elena blinked, excitement stirring in her. "Bonnie?"
"Itcould be," said Bonnie slowly. "The size and the walls and everything would be right. But a well is open; I should have been able to see the stars."
"Not if it were covered," said Matt. "A lot of the old farmhouses around here have wells that are no longer in use, and some farmers cover them to make sure little kids don't fall in. My grandparents do." Elena couldn't contain her excitement any longer. "That could be it. Thatmust be it. Bonnie, remember, you said it wasalways dark there."
"Yes, and it did have a sort of underground feeling." Bonnie was excited, too, but Meredith interrupted with a dry question.
"How many wells do you think there are in Fell's Church, Matt?"
"Dozens, probably," he said. "But covered? Not as many. And if you're suggesting somebody dumped Stefan in this one, then it can't be any place where people would see it. Probably somewhere abandoned..."
"And his car was found on this road," said Elena.
"The old Francher place," said Matt.
They all looked at one another. The Francher farmhouse had been ruined and deserted for as long as anybody could remember. It stood in the middle of the woods, and the woods had taken it over nearly a century ago.
"Let's go," added Matt simply.
Elena put a hand on his arm. "You believe - ?"
He looked away a moment. "I don't know what to believe," he said at last. "But I'm coming."
"From here we walk," he said.
Elena was glad she'd thought of bringing rope; they'd need it if Stefan were really in the Francher well. And if he wasn't...
She wouldn't let herself think about that.
It was hard going through the woods, especially in the dark. The underbrush was thick, and dead branches reached out to snatch at them. Moths fluttered around them, brushing Elena's cheek with unseen wings.
Eventually they came to a clearing. The foundations of the old house could be seen, building stones tied to the ground now by weeds and brambles. For the most part, the chimney was still intact, with, hollow places where concrete had once held it together, like a crumbling monument.
"The well would be somewhere out back," Matt said.
It was Meredith who found it and called the others. They gathered around and looked at the flat, square block of stone almost level with the ground.
Matt stooped and examined the dirt and weeds around it. "It's been moved recently," he said.
That was when Elena's heart began pounding in earnest. She could feel it reverberating in her throat and her fingertips. "Let's get it off," she said in a voice barely above a whisper.
The stone slab was so heavy that Matt couldn't even shift it. Finally all four of them pushed, bracing themselves against the ground behind it, until, with a groan, the block moved a fraction of an inch. Once there was a tiny gap between stone and well, Matt used a dead branch to lever the opening wider. Then they all pushed again.
When there was an aperture large enough for her head and shoulders, Elena bent down, looking in. She was almost afraid to hope.
"Stefan?"
The seconds afterward, hovering over that black opening, looking down into darkness, hearing only the echoes of pebbles disturbed by her movement, were agonizing. Then, incredibly, there was another sound.
"Who - ? Elena?"
"Oh, Stefan!" Relief made her wild. "Yes! I'm here, we're here, and we're going to get you out. Are you all right? Are you hurt?" The only thing that stopped her from tumbling in herself was Matt grabbing her from behind. "Stefan, hang on, we've got a rope. Tell me you're all right."
There was a faint, almost unrecognizable sound, but Elena knew what it was. A laugh. Stefan's voice was thready but intelligible. "I've - been better," he said. "But I'm - alive. Who's with you?"
She slapped the top of his head. "Don't joke about it! Get him up!"
"Yes, ma'am," said Matt, a little giddily. "Here, Stefan. You're going to have to tie this around you."
"Yes," said Stefan. He didn't argue about fingers numb with cold or whether or not they could haul his weight up. There was no other way.
The next fifteen minutes were awful for Elena. It took all four of them to pull Stefan out, although Bonnie's main contribution was saying, "come on, comeon ," whenever they paused for breath. But at last Stefan's hands gripped the edge of the dark hole, and Matt reached forward to grab him under the shoulders.
Then Elena was holding him, her arms locked around his chest. She could tell just how wrong things were by his unnatural stillness, by the limpness of his body. He'd used the last of his strength helping to pull himself out; his hands were cut and bloody. But what worried Elena most was the fact that those hands did not return her desperate embrace.
When she released him enough to look at him, she saw that his skin was waxen, and there were black shadows under his eyes. His skin was so cold that it frightened her.
She looked up at the others anxiously.
Matt's brow was furrowed with concern. "We'd better get him to the clinic fast. He needs a doctor."
"No!" The voice was weak and hoarse, and it came from the limp figure Elena cradled.
She felt Stefan gather himself, felt him slowly raise his head. His green eyes fixed on hers, and she saw the urgency in them.
"No... doctors." Those eyes burned into hers. "Promise... Elena."
Elena's own eyes stung and her vision blurred. "I promise," she whispered. Then she felt whatever had been holding him up, the current of sheer willpower and determination, collapse. He slumped in her arms, unconscious.
