Lily Whitmore's Arc

Chapter 7 of 17

Marrow pushed both palms against the packed dirt and leaned her weight. The ground did not give. She tried again with the flat of her knife, chipping small flakes loose. The blade skidded. She sat back on her heels and looked at the sky through the branches. The stars had thinned along one edge. "Dawn's coming," she said. "An hour. Maybe less." Lily knew what that meant. If the sun found her before her body was uncovered, her ghost would scatter and she would not come back to finish this. Lily knelt beside Marrow and pushed her hands at the dirt. They passed through without moving a grain. "I can't help," she said. "I can't even hold the knife." Ollie stood at the edge of the fire. "Marrow's uncle," he said. "The satchel." Marrow's hand went to the strap. She pulled the satchel around and opened it on the ground. Inside were folded cloths, a coil of wire, two small jars, and a glass flask with gold bands and a round stopper. The liquid inside glowed faint yellow-green. Marrow lifted the flask and set it down again. "Not this one," she said. "He'd kill me. It's the last full one he has." A branch snapped at the tree line. A boy stepped out first, blue at the edges, hands in his pockets. Behind him came a girl in a red top and dark skirt, breathing hard, curls stuck to her forehead. She carried a candle and a folded paper. Behind her walked a man in a long coat with a small white rabbit at his heel. He held a boxy device close to his ear. "The silence bends here," the man said. He pointed at the packed ground. "Something's under it." The girl looked at Marrow, then at the fire, then at Lily, who she clearly could see. "I climbed a hill for a ghost once," the girl said. "I turned back. I'm not turning back tonight." She knelt and set the candle in the dirt. "Tell us where to dig." Marrow stared at them. Then at the sky. Then at the flask in her hand. She pulled the stopper. "Hands out," she said to the girl and the man. She poured a thin line of the liquid across each of their palms and a line across her own. The glow sank in and did not come off. "It won't last long. Dig while it holds." They dug. The girl broke the crust with the flat of the candle base. The man used his hands. Marrow worked the knife along the edges. The blue boy crouched near his sister and pointed where the dirt gave easier. Lily stood over them and counted breaths she did not need. The hole grew. A strip of pale cloth showed through the soil. Then a hand. Marrow sat back. "Found you," she said. The sky above the cherry tree was going gray.