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you’ll wait and offer your assistance to anyone who happens by. You are not to use Mystics or light any sort of fire. Understood?”
    “Yeah, but—” began Max, but Cooper was already climbing back into the car. The engine hummed to life and he reversed up a long, twisting drive of patchy gravel.
    Max and David were left alone, gazing at a worn, sandy path that wound past a long-abandoned cottage whose roof was warped and sagging. The cottage’s windows were broken and dark; weeds grew in tall clumps about it.
    “I guess we go down to the beach,” said Max, passing the cottage on his right.
    David followed, giving the cottage a generous berth as the two hurried down a crude staircase of sun-bleached boards half submerged beneath pebbly sand. Max’s hair whipped about as he stepped over a low dune and down to a broad expanse of beach.
    The waves retreated to leave a gleaming swath of sand beneath a dead white moon. The two boys walked closer to the water, hugging their sweatshirts around them. They leaned against a great black rock crusted over with barnacles and absorbed the sounds and sights of the wind and sea. Nothing, not even a gull or insect, seemed to inhabit the stretch of beach. After almost an hour of silent vigil, Max grew impatient.
    “Want to have a look around?” he asked David, pushing away from the rock.
    His roommate shook his head, clutching his sweatshirt with his eyes riveted on the distant cottage, now silhouetted against the moonlit clouds. David’s teeth chattered from the cold.
    “You sure?” asked Max. “Walking will keep you warm.”
    “I’m okay,” muttered David, blowing on his hands. “Why don’t you just stay here?”
    “ ’Cause I’m bored and freezing,” said Max, stamping his feet. “I won’t go far. Give a holler if you see anything, okay?”
    David nodded and scrunched into a warmth-seeking ball once again. Max ducked around the rock and walked farther up the beach, scanning about and stopping periodically to watch the tide fill in his footprints. Plucking up a sharp rock, he skimmed it far out over the waves. He was still watching the glassy swells when a high-pitched cry sent a shiver down Max’s spine.
    The cry had come from David.
    Max turned and ran up the beach, spraying sand in his wake. He found his roommate sitting bolt upright against the rock, staring straight ahead. Turning, Max saw light streaming from the cabin’s windows, giving it the appearance of a mad jack-o’-lantern on the hillside.
    “When did the lights go on?” hissed Max.
    David said nothing but pointed straight ahead, positively dumbstruck with terror.
    Max forced his attention from the cottage to the gleaming stretch of beach before him.
    Something was coming at them—a faint light bobbing across the sand.
    Max’s breath turned to mist as cold crept up his toes and tunneled deep. A rising wave of fear almost made him gag. He heard David’s lunch splash on the sand. But as the light bobbed closer, Max saw that it was only a bonneted woman, clutching a basket and carrying a lantern before her.
    “It’s just an old woman,” Max muttered.
    “Look closer!” hissed David.
    Max blinked and caught his breath. On closer inspection, he saw the woman was faintly translucent. Moon-dappled waves gleamed through her old-fashioned nightgown and robe as she came to a stop some twenty feet from them.
    The ghost shone her lantern at them with calm curiosity.
    “Say something,” hissed David, kicking lamely at Max’s foot.
    “Er . . . hello, ma’am,” ventured Max, giving a hesitant wave and remembering Cooper’s instructions. “Can we help you with anything?”
    “Hmmm,” said the ghost, her voice crackling with age. “Maybe you can. I’m trying to find my husband, you see. Silly me can’t sleep till he’s all home in his bed. Would you help me look for him?”
    “Of course,” said Max politely. He reached down to pull David up, but the small boy made a gurgling noise and waved