“Tell me why you have come,” the Haunter said in his high-pitched voice. He had only one visible tooth. Perhaps it was because most of his front baby teeth had come out shortly before he died.

“We … we heard you can teach people to haunt the living world,” Allie said.

“I teach nothing,” he said. “Either you have the skill, or you don’t.”

Then he reached into his lap, and produced a smooth stone the size of an egg. The Haunter looked at the stone for a moment, as if it held the wisdom of the world, then in one smooth motion, he hurled it at Nick. “Catch it!” he said.

Nick held up his hands, but the stone passed right through his chest, and hit the floor behind him! This wasn’t an Everlost stone, it was an artifact of the living world!

The Haunter laughed in his very-old-little-kid voice. “Pick it up. Bring it to me,” he said.

“How am I supposed to pick that up?”

“The same way I did,” said the Haunter.

Nick went to the stone, leaned down, and reached for it. His fingers closed on it, but passed right through it, just as he knew they would. He tried again, concentrating this time. Nothing. The stone didn’t even wobble. Fine, thought Nick. He’ll point out how completely useless we are, then he’ll start teaching us.

Nick stood up and turned to the Haunter, anxious to just get on with it. “I can’t,” said Nick. “I can’t pick up the stone.”

“In that case,” said the Haunter, “your lesson is over.” Then he snapped his fingers, and there came a thundering that had nothing to do with the weather. The steel door behind them slammed itself shut. Then, down a flight of old wooden stairs came a dozen figures wrapped from head to toe in black robes, and they headed straight for Nick. Before he knew what was happening, dark gloved hands lifted him off the ground.

“Stop! What are you doing!”

“The price of failure,” the Haunter said calmly, “is an eternity to think about it.”

And then they turned Nick upside down, and plunged him headfirst into a pickle barrel that had crossed over into Everlost along with the building. It was still full of slimy saltwater brine. Then they slammed the cover back on, and Nick found himself submerged in salty, liquid darkness. For a horrible instant, he thought he might drown there, but realized he couldn’t. The brine was in him and around him. It sloshed through the place where his insides should be, it filled his mouth and nose, yet still he did not drown, and never would.

Allie stared at the barrel paralyzed with disbelief, listening to Nick’s angry, muffled screams from within as the dark-robed figures nailed the lid on tight. So this was why no one ever returned from the Haunter. How could she have been so stupid to take this risk? To make her friends take the risk? I did this to Nick, was all Allie could think. I made him come here.