That night, Arga couldn't sleep.
He had already tried closing his eyes.
He had tried counting sheep.
He had even read almost half of his father's book about mountain expeditions.
But his thoughts kept returning to the forest.
To the banyan tree.
To the woman in the white dress who had transformed into fireflies.
And especially to the black-robed figure who had watched them from a distance.
Arga took the ancient compass from beneath his pillow.
Its needle was still.
It wasn't spinning.
It wasn't glowing.
But when Arga brought it close to his ear, he thought he heard a very soft sound.
Tap... tap... tap...
Arga frowned.
"What?"
He pressed the compass to his ear.
Tap... tap... tap...
The sound came again.
Like knocking from somewhere very far away.
Suddenly, the compass lit up.
A thin green line formed across its surface.
The line moved in one direction.
Not toward the forest.
Not toward the banyan tree.
Instead, it pointed toward the river east of the village.
Arga sat up at once.
"Could it be...?"
Chirp, who was sleeping on top of the wardrobe, opened one eye.
"Could it be what?"
Arga jumped.
"You weren't asleep?"
"I'm a bird. I can sleep standing up."
"That's not an answer."
"Because that wasn't an important question."
Chirp yawned.
"The compass is pointing to the river."
The bird immediately flew down.
His usually cheerful expression turned serious.
"Then we have to go."
"Now?"
"Especially now."
Sungai Waringin divided the village into two parts.
An old wooden bridge stood over it, one that hadn't been used in decades.
People called it Jembatan Sinden.
No one knew where the name came from.
But there was an old story.
They said that on certain nights, the voice of a woman singing could be heard beneath the bridge.
Those who tried to find the source of the voice would find a different path when they tried to return home.
Arga had heard the story before.
Usually, he thought of it as nothing more than a fairy tale.
Now he wasn't so sure.
He stopped at the end of the road.
Sinta was already waiting for him.
"You're late."
"I didn't know you were coming."
"I didn't know either, until the compass on my necklace started glowing."
Sinta held up the leaf-shaped necklace Chirp had given her.
Green light appeared across its surface.
Chirp landed on one of the bridge's planks.
"We're looking for someone."
"Who?" Arga asked.
"A boy."
"What's his name?"
Chirp looked at them.
"Bimo."
A voice came from the middle of the bridge.
"If you're looking for Bimo..."
Arga and Sinta immediately turned around.
A boy stood amid the fog.
He was taller than Arga.
He wore a red jacket and carried a large flashlight.
"I'm Bimo."
Arga furrowed his brow.
"You know us?"
Bimo shrugged.
"No."
"Then how do you know we're looking for Bimo?"
"Because..."
Bimo pointed behind them.
"...the three of you are carrying glowing objects."
Arga and Sinta exchanged glances.
"You can see them?"
Bimo nodded.
"I've been seeing that light for the past two nights."
"Why didn't you tell anyone?"
Bimo fell silent.
Then he pointed beneath the bridge.
"Because I saw something down there."
They approached the edge.
The river flowed slowly beneath the bridge.
Bimo's flashlight swept across the surface.
There was nothing there.
Then...
Splash!
Something moved.
Bimo stepped back.
"What was that?!"
A circle of green light appeared in the middle of the river.
Chirp flapped his wings.
"Don't move!"
The water began to swirl.
Slowly, something rose from the river.
A wooden box.
The current carried it along until it stopped directly beneath the bridge.
Arga went down the rotting wooden stairs.
"Arga!" Sinta shouted.
"I'm just getting the box!"
He reached for it.
The moment his hand touched the wet wood...
A woman's voice came from the water.
"Give it back..."
Arga froze.
"What?"
"Give back what isn't yours..."
Sinta and Bimo exchanged glances.
Bimo whispered,
"She spoke?"
Sinta nodded.
"I think so."
The river suddenly became still.
Then a face appeared on the surface.
Long black hair floated in the water.
The face wasn't angry.
It wasn't frightening.
It looked sad instead.
"Who are you?" Arga asked.
The figure didn't answer.
She only raised a hand.
Her finger pointed at the wooden box Arga was holding.
Then the figure vanished.
Arga opened the box.
Inside was a small black stone.
The stone bore the same carving as the symbol on the banyan tree.
Seven lines.
One circle.
But there was a crack in the center.
Chirp moved closer.
"That's part of the Guardian Seal."
"What seal?" Bimo asked.
"The seal that guards the door between the human and supernatural worlds."
Bimo stared at Chirp.
"And why is it in the river?"
Chirp didn't answer.
Because footsteps could be heard coming from the direction of the bridge.
One.
Two.
Three.
They all turned.
There was no one there.
Only fog.
But wet footprints appeared on the bridge's planks.
The footprints moved toward them.
One after another.
Drawing closer.
Closer.
Then they stopped right in front of Arga's feet.
Bimo shone his flashlight on them.
There was no body.
Only footprints.
Sinta whispered,
"These aren't human footprints."
Chirp flew above Arga's head.
"We have to go."
"Why?"
"Because whoever left those footprints already knows you're carrying a piece of the seal."
Arga gripped the box.
They ran away from the bridge.
But when they reached the end of the road, Arga looked back.
Amid the fog, he saw someone standing on the bridge.
A black robe.
A wooden mask.
A purple lantern.
The Shadow Collector.
The figure raised a hand.
The purple flame inside the lantern grew larger.
Then a soft voice spoke.
"You're too late."