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the tops of the intricate ironwork fences that bordered several plots。 Almost all the tombs were white…made of moon…pale marble； silvery granite； or whitewashed brick…and the sunlight upon them dazzled Ghost's eyes。
Against all the whiteness a thousand bits of color swarmed。 There were flowers everywhere； plaster Virgins and saints with gaily painted robes； colored…glass tumblers full of rainwater； copper and silver coins embedded in cement。 Some of the ironwork fences around the graves fluttered with ribbons； others were hung with rosaries or Mardi Gras beads。
Ghost passed a tomb chalked with hundreds of red X's in groups of three。 He stopped and looked at it for a long moment。 At first it gave him no feeling at all； it might have been empty。 Then suddenly he knew what he was supposed to do。 Chips of brick and nubs of red chalk were scattered near the base of the tomb。 Ghost picked one up； turned three times around； and carefully inscribed his own three X's on the door of the tomb。 〃I wish I knew where Ann was；〃 he said。 His lips barely moved； but even the softest whisper seemed to bounce off the tombs and echo along the empty paths。
Then he closed his eyes and listened with all his heart。 When the presence came into his head； he was ready for it。
It was a greedy spirit； and an arrogant one。 In fact； it reminded him of no one so much as Arkady Raventon…but without Arkady's weak flesh； without his craven lust。 This was a spirit like a flaming ebony arrow。 Look behind you； it said。 That was all。 Then it was gone。 Ghost stepped backward and almost hit his head on the overhanging doorway of another tomb。
Then； very slowly； he turned his head and looked behind him。
Nothing there but gleaming white walls and flowers trembling in the breeze。
Feeling stupid； obscurely tricked； Ghost headed back the way he had e。 But after a couple of minutes he realized he was no longer on the same path。 That made him feel even more stupid； because the tomb with the red X's had been less than twenty feet inside the gate。 He was sure of it。 How could he have gotten turned around？ This path led deeper into the cemetery。
Soon there were tombs on all sides of him； and he had no idea which path led toward the gate。 The tombs in the center of the cemetery must be taller； that was why they seemed to tower above him； soaring up into the bright cloudless sky。 Over the edge of the far wall reared the dark mass of the apartment blocks 。 。 。 the projects； he realized。 It was probably dangerous to be in here alone。 The night before； when they were walking down the dark street that led back to Arkady's； Steve had talked morosely about the crime in New Orleans。 Little kids would run up and shoot you in the head； then rifle through your pockets。 At least that was what Steve said。
The path twisted deeper in。 Now the sky was a bristling forest of iron crosses。 Granite peaks wavered overhead； seemed to bow over the path。 The tombs pressed closer。 Ghost wedged himself between two of them。 For one horrible moment he was stuck。 Soft brick crumbled away。 Something wriggled against his back。 He felt his shirt rip。
Then he pulled free。 He half…ran； half…stumbled into an open area where the tombs were lower and squarer； the tallest ones only shoulder…high。
In the center of the open area a girl lay supine on a low marble slab。 Bunches of dried long…stemmed roses were arranged around the slab； crimson gone to black； white to ivory； yellow and pink to dusty echoes of themselves。 The girl's long red…gold hair hung down over the edge of the slab； and some of the roses had bee ensnarled in it。 She was not visibly breathing； but Ghost felt a weak tremor of life as he approached。
Then the girl raised her head； and Ghost saw what he had known all along。 It was Ann。 And she was sick。
〃Ghost。〃 Her red…rimmed eyes tried to bring him into focus。 〃What are you doing here？〃
〃Did you sleep out here all night？〃
She thought about it； then nodded slowly。 〃Nowhere else to go。 I don't have any money； and 。 。 。 I didn't find 。 。〃 She coughed； spat out a mouthful of phlegm。 It glistened faintly iridescent against all the whiteness。 Ghost heard the breath rasping in her chest。
〃What are you doing here？〃 Ann asked again。 〃Do you know where they are？ Where Zillah's staying？〃
Ghost swallowed。 He wasn't sure he could do this。 He hadn't counted on Ann being sick； it was too easy； she had no chance of resisting。 But the fact that she had asked for Zillah instead of Steve…that helped。 As did the emptiness he saw when he met her eyes。
〃Yeah；〃 he said。 〃I know where they are。 I can take you to him。〃
He found the path that led to the gate on his first try。
〃What's that？〃 asked Ann。 She was staring blearily at the altar in the back room of Arkady's shop。 The shop was dark and empty； but Arkady had left the door unlocked。
Ghost fumbled the velvet curtain back and ushered her ahead of him。 〃Careful on the stairs；〃 he said。 〃It's dark up there。〃
Ann stared up into the blackness； then slowly began to climb。 Up one flight； around the bend； up another flight to the wavering rectangle of light that was the door。 Ann went through it； took two unsteady steps into the hall。 〃Zillah？〃 she said。
And Steve stepped out from behind the door and plastered a wet cloth over her face。 They couldn't imagine why Arkady kept a bottle of ether in his back room； but he had said it would work。
Ghost saw Steve's eyes clench shut as Ann struggled against the sick…smelling cloth。 When she went limp in his arms； Steve's face slackened too。 For a moment he looked as if he would collapse with her。 But he held Ann upright and steadied her drooping head against his shoulder； then slid his other arm under her knees； cradling her。
Ghost couldn't remember the last time he had seen Steve hold Ann so tenderly。
Arkady pulled his fingers out of Ann's mouth and wiped them on her gray sweatshirt。 He patted her cheek； then pushed her limp jaw shut。 〃Excellent；〃 he muttered。
Ghost leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes。 Beside him； Steve shifted； crossed and uncrossed his long legs。 〃So what do we do now？〃
〃Wait；〃 Arkady told him。 〃It is all you can do。〃
〃Wait！〃 Steve spat out the word。 He hauled himself up and began to pace； the heels of his battered boots clocking against the floor； his hands clawing at his hair。 〃I can't wait。 I'll go crazy。〃
Ghost stood； steadying himself against the wall。 He realized neither of them had eaten all day。 〃Look。 Why don't we go out for a while？ Over to Bourbon Street or…〃
Arkady clapped his hands。 The sudden sharp sound brought all movement in the room to an end： Steve stopped pacing； Ghost shut his mouth without finishing his sentence； even the dust seemed to stop sifting down。 Arkady glanced at the window。 Twilight had begun to filter through the glass； sending long gray fingers of shadow into the room。 Below； on the street corners； Ghost could see lamps lighting one by one； like milky yellow fireflies。
〃I know just the thing；〃 said Arkady。 〃I will care for the girl。 I will watch over her。 You'd only get in the way。〃 There was no question which of them he meant； but for once Steve didn't snarl。 〃I've told you about Ashley's friends； the ones in the other guest room。 They are musicians； and they will be performing tonight at a club on Rue Decatur。 The club serves the strongest drinks in all the Vieux Carre； and when you e back； everything will be over。 The child will be dead； and you can take your Ann home again。〃
Uh…uh； thought Ghost。 His brain felt edged with hysteria； he smelled strawberry incense； cheap wine； clove cigarettes。 He closed his eyes。 Behind his lids he saw a closet door swinging slowly open； saw a silken sleeve reaching out for him； heard a voice whispering； Easy； Ghost 。 。 。 easy 。 。 。 He thought； No way。 I don't want to see any band that came out of that closet。 We'll find a two…dollar strip show on Bourbon Street； well go to the Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum； we'll do anything but see poor dead Ashley Raventon's lovers playing at some club on Decatur Street。
But when Ghost opened his eyes again； Steve was looking morbidly interested。 He had perked up at the mention of the strongest drinks in all the Vieux Carre。 〃That sounds pretty good；〃 he said。 〃I'd like to check out the club scene here。 Sure sounds better than sitting around waiting。〃 He turned to Ghost。 〃You want to？〃
It would make Steve happy； or at least take his mind off Ann； or at least give him an excuse to get blind drunk。 What could happen in a club？ Ashley's lovers couldn't fly off the stage at Ghost； flapping their silks； whispering easy 。。。。 He and Steve would be safe in the crowd。
〃Okay by me；〃 he said； hoping he sounded surer than he felt。
〃Fine then；〃 said Arkady。 As he turned to leave the room； he flapped his hand toward the foot of the bed。 A tangle of cotton bandages trailed onto the floor。 〃You'll want to wrap her up；〃 Arkady told Steve。 〃Tightly enough to keep some of the blood in； but loose enough to let out the 。 。 。 matter。〃
Steve winced。 Arkady made his exit； white robes swirling behind him。
Ghost stood there for a moment； gripping Steve's shoulder。 Then he followed Arkady out of the room and shut the door； and Steve was； alone with Ann。
At first she only drifted。
Her lungs felt stuffed with cotton； and there was an acrid chemical burn in the back of her throat。 She was too tired to open her eyes： her eyelids were weighted with sand。 She let herself slip back into sleep； and she drifted。 The backs of her knees and the back of her neck turned to warm water。 Her muscles melted from her bones。 Soon she began to see pictures。
They were too vivid to be dreams。 Her dreams had always been in black and white； as precise and disjointed as Fellini films。 The pictures she saw now were in virulent color。 For a time she struggled against them； trying to wake up； then she gave in； because the pictures swelled in her brain and made her head hurt when she struggled。
She saw her father's fragile…boned face； weirdly phosphorescent in the gloom of the living room back home。 Newspapers were strewn in disarray around his feet； and an empty coffee mug sat on the arm of his chair near his outstretched hand。 She tried to call his name； but if he heard her； he made no response。
She saw a jack…o'…lantern lit orange against a black night； bobbing as if some shadow…wraith carried it。 The glowing grin split open； and a great frothy rose blossomed out； withering and rotting in the space of a few seconds。
She saw a girl's face with dark eyes half…hidden by a curtain of hair； then the girl's eyes rolled up white and silver； and the girl's mouth opened impossibly wide； and a gout of blood and whiskey tumbled down her chin。
She saw a jumble of streets laid out like a glowing map。 Neon danced and rippled： purple； green； gold。 In the streets； crowds of thin children in black frolicked。 They wore studded belts and wristlets； skull…and…crossbone earrings； hair dyed every color； teased and twisted into every conceivable style。 She saw pale faces slashed across with scarlet lipstick； with great smudges of eyeliner。 Stalking among the children； everywhere； were corny silent…film vampires。 They pulled black silk capes up over their noses； drew back in mock horror at crucifixes dangling from multipierced earlobes。 Beside the children in their gaudy mourning； the vampires were old…fashioned and hokey…except that all of them had green eyes that glowed and snapped like strange acid fire。
As the final image dwindled into darkness； Ann realized that someone was touching her。 Fumbling with the button of her skirt； sliding her tights down over her hips。 She would know that touch anywhere； would know it even if she hadn't felt it in ten years： half…rough but trying to be gentle； half…desperate but trying to be tender。
Steve。 At first she wanted to push his hands away； but she could not muster the will to move； so she lay quietly and let him ease her panties down。 Those panties are really skanky； she thought。 Then she thought； Who cares； it's only Steve； he's smelled me before。 Then some distant part of her mind realize