‘Step back, Shane,’ she cried, ‘You can’t help her. It’s a trick!’

She sprinted toward Shane, but he was already in ankle-deep. The song was even louder here and it hammered against Cat’s brain, begging to be let in. It took all her concentration to muffle the sound of the song.

‘Closer now and closer still,

Answer me, child, heed my will.

Be my own, my dearest child

And lose yourself into the wild.’

Shane was up to his waist now and still he moved toward the girl on the island. Cat was closing in on the lake. It wasn’t too late; she could still get to him. She threw her backpack aside and her toes were just about to touch the lapping water when, out of the depths, came an almighty splash. There, rearing up above the murky water was a woman with ashen-grey skin and hair that cascaded down her back in clumps that looked like seaweed. Her mouth was open and from where she stood, Cat could make out a set of long, pointed teeth. She leapt forward, swept Shane into her arms and dragged him below the water. All at once the song stopped and the only thing Cat heard was the sound of her own voice screaming.

Chapter Fourteen

The Lake That Wasn’t

She was in the water before she could think twice. ‘Give him back!’ she yelled into the air, but there was no sign of the woman in the water. She was gone with barely a ripple and had taken Shane with her.

Cat didn’t know what else to do, so she dived.

The water was cold and murky with mud and though the lake didn’t seem all that deep, Cat could barely make out the bottom. She broke the surface and drew in a deep lungful of air. She was about to duck back under when she heard a faint voice behind her.

‘There’s no point,’ said the voice. ‘You won’t be able to find him down there. And even if you do find him it’ll be no good. She’ll never give him back. Believe me, I know.’

Cat spun around and came face to face with the ghost-girl. She was no longer standing on the small island but was instead floating above the water just a few metres away. Her whole body glowed a faint silver exactly like Cat’s had done when the coachman attacked. Cat thought she looked to be about her own age or maybe a year older. Her hair was cut short, almost to her ears, and it was pinned back on one side with an old-fashioned clip. She wore a dress which fell to her knees and a bobbly knitted cardigan that was clearly home-made. Cat could tell right away this girl had been a ghost for a very long time.

‘Get away from me,’ she said, dragging herself backwards out of the lake and onto the thick, wet mud of the shore.