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Wouldn't she be a lot warmer spending the night indoors? She didn't think it likely that a
nasty creature would live in a house, especially one with lights, and she certainly didn't want to
be anywhere near that mobile forest once darkness fell. Besides, the countryside below looked almost ordinary.
    A sharp sting on her foot made her look down. Misty tendrils were wrapping around her
ankles. When she spun around, she saw waves of fog pouring from the forest like an incoming
tide. The graveyard was already engulfed.
    She poked at the mist. It felt different from just minutes ago; somehow rougher and
thicker, and it seemed to stick to her skin as she pulled her finger away... No, not stick,
cling.
    "It's alive!" The mist was everywhere and getting deeper by the moment. She stared into
the valley. The mist was everywhere except there!
    She tried wading through the now knee-deep mist, but the harder she pushed the more it
resisted, gripping her ankles and binding her legs. Suddenly her calves began to burn. With a
yelp, she leapt on top of the mist and started gliding for her life. That was when she heard faint
whistling, like a boiling tea kettle. Instinctively she knew the sound was an alarm, a warning that
dinner was escaping.
    By the time she was close to the edge of the hill, the whistling had grown louder and
shriller and the mist beneath her feet was almost boiling hot. She gave two more quick kicks and,
crouching like a skier, flew over the crest. As she did so, something caught at her head, yanking
loose strands of hair.
    Stealing a quick glance behind, she saw thick coils stretching after her like the arms of a
giant octopus. By then she was out of reach and racing downhill at an ever increasing speed.
Soon she'd left all traces of the fog behind, and had flashed past the trail. She was in danger of
gliding into the mist pooled at the bottom of the slope.
    Leaning back, she dug her heels into the ground. Instead of stopping, she was catapulted
forward another twenty feet before landing on her belly.
    "Uhh!"
    High above, the hilltop swarmed with dozens of misty tendrils swirling about in an
angry dance. Close to where she lay, the valley mist remained flat and still.
    Wincing slightly, Carole got to her feet.
    The sky was now twilight dark. Realizing she had little time left before daylight totally
failed, Carole set off. The trail was easy enough to follow, if not well traveled. She had little
difficulty understanding why. No one in their right mind would want to walk this countryside,
day or night. Of course Professor Philamount had said that the Ghostly Spirit Realm was his
specialty, but then again he wasn't exactly normal, either.
    Despite her brisk pace, darkness soon overtook her. She tried not to be overly
concerned, as she could still see the building's lights flickering in the distance and there hadn't
been even a trace of fog along the trail. Still, when a full moon crested the horizon, she broke
into a run. She didn't stop until she was leaning against the front door, gasping for
breath.
    The door was made of huge, roughly-hewn planks bound together by thick tongues of
metal that snaked out from two enormous hinges. Overtop, a small window spilled enough light
to illuminate the entranceway, but it was much too high for Carole to reach.
    The building was fashioned from unfinished split-logs stacked together at odd angles,
with a few crooked windows set high above the ground. Despite the crude design, everything fit
perfectly together, without leaving so much as a crack to peek through. Carole circled the
building twice, but found no way to see in, no way to get in.
    If she wished to get out of the night, she had no choice. Taking a deep breath, she
stepped up to the door and rapped her knuckles firmly against the wood.
    Slapping the side of a tree would have been as effective. "Guess I don't have a choice,
unless I want to sleep outdoors," she muttered as she pressed the latch and pulled on the