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cement bridge that spanned the area, my back plastered against the cold stone. I covered my mouth to silence the sounds of labored breathing.
    A few seconds later, a shadow flashed on the ground next to me, paused for a moment, then flickered past me toward the main square. I counted to ten, holding my breath, until black spots threatened to dance before my eyes. Cautiously I crawled out of my hiding spot and peered over the edge of the railing toward the street, my lungs wheezily drawing in much-needed oxygen.
    People were starting to appear from the direction of the park, some heading for cars, others going to the central square, where sounds of a band warming up could be heard. “The fireworks must be over,” I mused aloud, “which means if I stay put, there will be a lot of people I can use as cover. That sounds smart.”
    â€œExcuse me, could you help us?”
    At the soft voice behind me, I whirled around, clutching at the railing as my heart just about jumped out of my chest for the second time in an hour. “Holy cheese and crackers! You almost scared . . . me . . . to . . . uh . . .”
    The two people who stood before me, at first glance, were nothing to make a mature, reasonably intelligent woman turn into a babbling fool, but that’s just what happened. The man and woman were clearly a couple, because the woman, petite, with big, soulful eyes, clung to the man’s arm as she peered up at me from under the low brim of a hat I vaguely remembered was called a cloche. She was wearing a low-waisted dress, while he was in an old-fashioned-looking suit and a fedora. But what had me stammering to a startled stop was the fact that the two of them were translucent, almost transparent, an odd bluish sort of glow about them as if they were made up of the ghostly images sometimes seen on old TVs.
    The word “ghost” reverberated around in my head with growing intensity.
    â€œWe’re lost. Can you help us?” the woman said, glancing up at her man.
    â€œUh.” Hesitantly, I held out my hand, the hairs on my arm standing on end as my fingers reached the man’s arm and passed right through it with only a tiny tingle.
    â€œWe were on a ship,” the man said, looking around him. “We were going to Canada. But now we’re lost, and we don’t know where we’re supposed to be going. You are the one who is supposed to help us, aren’t you?” the man asked, a doubtful look on his translucent face.
    â€œYou’re . . . not real,” I said slowly, trying to understand what was going on. “Are you?”
    â€œI am Karl. This is my wife, Marta. We were on a ship,” the ghostly man said again. “What happened to it?”
    â€œKarl, I’m afraid,” the woman whimpered, pressing herself closer to her husband. “Maybe she is the other one.”
    I blinked in dumb astonishment. “I’m Pia, and frankly, I’m a bit confused.”
    â€œThere’s nothing to be afraid of,” Karl told his wife, obviously trying to appear brave for her benefit. His expression continued to indicate that he was anything but calmly confident. “You are the reaper, aren’t you? The old woman said there would be someone in town to show us the way. She said we’d know you by the light you carry.” He gestured toward my hand.
    I looked down in even more astonishment. The stone-bedecked bookmark that I’d looped around my wrist while I made my escape from Mattias had somehow morphed into a small lantern shaped like a crescent moon. It dangled like a charm from my wrist, and from it, a gentle glow illuminated the area immediately around me. “All right. This is going way beyond weird or possibly a mental condition, into the land of . . . well, I don’t know quite what land it is. Maybe the unbelievable? Regardless, I’m not quite sure what to tell you. I don’t think I’m the grim reaper—at least