The sun peeped through the jackfruit trees, but the mist was still thick, shrouding the undergrowth and clinging to leaves. Binara hummed a song as she clutched her doll and tramped through the grass. The rain had stopped during the night, and petrichor filled her nose. She wanted to pick some binara flowers but most had wilted. She was determined to find good ones nevertheless.

"Malki," Binara said, holding up her doll, "I will get you flowers today. I promise!"

The rich purple of binara would go well with the doll's dress—even her own. She resumed her quest, short legs wading through ferns.

It occurred to her that she had ventured further than she thought. Binara shaded her eyes and looked around. On one side, the closed wing of the house glowered down, partially covered by foliage. She wasn't supposed to wander far, but in the distance, there was a telltale splotch of purple, beckoning her into the gloom.

She lengthened her steps, sneakers crunching leaves and twigs. The sunrays were too weak to dissipate the mist, and it grew thicker until visibility plunged to near zero. Binara whirled around, straining to see. A twinge of worry squeezed her heart.

"Malki, are we lost?" she mumbled.

The doll made no response. Binara hugged Malki tighter and tried to find her way back. She tripped over a root and fell to her knees. It hurt only a little, so she decided not to cry. Instead, her eyes landed on a dab of violet right before her. It was a perfect binara bloom.

"So pretty..." She plucked it, spirits soaring. "Malki, isn't it lovely?"

Another bloom peeked through the grass, just a few feet away.

She had picked five flowers when she came upon loose rocks. It only meant one thing. Sure enough, the old well loomed into view, crusted with moss and lichen.

Binara's heart stuttered. She had sensed something in its depths on many occasions. It was there now, stronger than ever.

Even as she watched, tendrils emerged from the well—slow, gaseous and ethereal. This smoky substance collected mass and spilled over the rim. Terror paralyzed Binara, turning her legs to lead. Then the entity itself hovered into view—a pale boy with black holes for eyes.

Binara screamed. Panic clouded her brain, and she broke into a stumbling run. The flowers fell from her hands, violet petals scattering in the air.

She hurtled on, one arm hugging the doll. The fog pressed in as if to blot her out and absorb her into its dreary whiteness. Leaves and branches thwacked her arms, each hit jolting her frayed nerves. She couldn't help imagining the apparition giving chase. Sobs shook her little form as her wild eyes darted around, but she might as well have been blind. It didn't help that her vision blurred, drowned in tears.

Suddenly, the mist thinned ahead, revealing the deserted side of the walauwa. Binara slowed down and panted, each breath as shaky as her limbs. She rubbed her eyes and stared at the building. It was dark and foreboding, with ornamental eaves and high windows, barred with grilles. Everything was deathly still, except for the movement of the tree limbs, their leaves a solemn green.

She was about to continue running when something else snagged her gaze. A cloaked figure approached her, fabric trailing over the grass.

It was the strange girl Binara saw at the window.

Out in the open, the girl's hair bobbed with each step, short and lustrous as it caught the foggy light. She was a vision in black but for her flower hairpin, its purple hue as vibrant as the real deal. A peculiar expression veiled her face, as if it was caught between warring emotions.

Binara kneaded her eyes again and watched on without a word. Everything was unknown and scary. The pressure of the world bore down, constricting her very soul. At least the sight of another human being eased the panic. She could no longer sense the boy in the well, but fear made her glance over her shoulder. Another sob broke out.

The stranger came to a stop mere feet from her and peered down. "Hey there."

Binara blinked, and tears spattered the front of her dress. There was something about the girl that could only be described as familiar. She stared at her face—soft brown in tone and marked with a hooked nose. The rupee dropped, making Binara's mouth fall ajar.

The stranger had a vague resemblance to her mother—even herself. Her eyes were the dark grey of her own. Is—is this my sister? But why would no one tell me if I had an older sister? Malki dropped from her slackened arms.

The girl bent down to pick up the doll, brushed off the wetness and handed it back to Binara. "Are you alright?"

Binara took her doll, tears brimming in her eyes. "I-I saw a boy in the well. He has no eyes, and...and..."

"Hey, hey, it's okay."

"I'm telling the truth." Binara sniffled. "I really am."

"I know."

She blinked. "You...don't think I'm crazy?"

"You're not crazy, Binara," the girl said, her voice gentle. "Ghosts are real. We fear what we don't know."

Wave after wave of emotion swept over Binara, and her chest heaved, trying to contain the chaos within. Out of all the people in her life, this girl believed her. No, not just any girl. My sister...

Her sister reached out and patted her, uttering soothing words that didn't register. A painful weight lifted from her heart. I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy.

"Are you my sister? No one told me about you," Binara said in a choked whisper, wiping her face with one hand. "What are you doing out here?"

The girl smiled like the morning sun—soft and sad, but warm enough to push back the mist. "I'm here to make sure you're okay. You have to stand up for yourself, Binara."

"I-I'll try."

"We Mayadunnes are descended from the greatest of kings. There's more in you than you think."

Binara managed a weak smile as warmth coursed in, clearing the haze of doubt, anger and fear. In that moment, she was all-powerful—ready to fight back. She balled her fists and stood up straighter, though her lips kept on trembling.

Her sister's smile widened. "What were you doing in the garden?"

Binara hugged her doll tighter. "I just wanted to pick some flowers. But...I lost them."

"I have a flower for you." She carefully undid her hairpin and held it out. "Here."

"But this is yours." Binara stared at the pin, so enticingly pretty.

"I want you to have it."

She scrutinized the older girl's face, though she couldn't read the expression, and joy blossomed inside, making everything brighter. "Really?"

"Yeah."

Binara took the hairpin, fingers tracing the smooth petals. "Thank you..."

Why's Mommy keeping you in the empty wing? I have to ask! The edges of the scene darkened and rapidly closed in on them. Binara opened her mouth to shriek, but her ears buzzed, cutting off sound. The noise grew louder, and vibrations rode up her spine. Her sister called her name, and she struggled to respond.

"Binnie."

She stirred, fighting against the blackness.

"Wake up. We're almost there."

Binara's eyes snapped open. The back of a vehicle seat dominated her vision, faded and seamless, with occasional fuzz poking out. She was in a van, droning on in bumpy terrain, and her sixth sense tuned into the low susurrus of a kaluon engine. What smelled like sandalwood wafted into her nose, though it failed to mask the odor of old fabric, rubber and disinfectant. She turned to find Piumi peering at her.

"How long was I asleep?" Binara asked, rubbing her eyes that could do with a good night's rest.

"Not long." Piumi peered closer. "Were you having a nightmare? You mumbled something."

"No, I'm fine." She hurriedly whipped out her phone to check the map. "We're in Gongama?"

"Look outside."

The window revealed a vista of greenery—wild and tangled. A dozen toque macaques climbed the lianas that meandered up to the canopy like a woody road network. A few individuals stopped to observe the passing van, their funny hair ruffling in the breeze.

"Hey," a voice said from behind.

Binara peeped through the crack between the seats and found the twins' sheepish faces.

"Want a snack?" Sandun asked, holding out a packet of fried peanuts.

"Yes, please, we'd like that." Piumi nudged Binara aside and accepted it. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"I didn't say I'd like it," Binara muttered, her voice shuddering as the vehicle jounced over a pothole.

"Yeah, you didn't." Piumi popped a handful of peanuts into her mouth while offering some to Binara. "But I'm, like, your spokesperson."

Binara rolled her eyes as she scooped up some peanuts and sampled them. It was delicious, but the spiciness kindled a fire in her mouth.

"It'th good, yah?" Piumi asked, cheeks puffed as she chewed, much like a palm squirrel. "Or too spithy for you?"

Binara scoffed and resisted the urge to grab her water bottle. "This is nothing."

The other girl swallowed. "By the way, Vinod said this road doesn't go all the way to the village, so we'd have to walk."

"Walk through this forest?"

"Hang on, let me confirm." Piumi cleared her throat. "Hey, Vin, are we walking through this forest?"

Binara craned her neck towards the driver's seat. Vinod, the driver, was the bespectacled boy with the gata drum during the duel with Nim. As a mid-level agent, he was the leader of their team. Next to him on the passenger seat was Nim, his buffalo-sized frame protruding into view.

"Yes, but there's a dirt road that leads straight to Gongama," Vinod replied, his quiet voice almost drowned out by the rumbling van. "And I brought the quin so we can carry our equipment."

"The what?" Binara asked.

"Palanquin."

"Also useful if one of you faints," Nim added, sniggering.

Binara rolled her eyes all the way to her skull.

Ten minutes later, the vehicle stopped, wheels scraping mud and gravel.

"Everyone, out," Vinod announced as he jumped out and shut the door with a thud. "Secure the windows—we don't want monkeys raiding the van while we're gone."

Binara hoisted her backpack and followed Piumi out. The air was deliciously cool, and fallen leaves crunched underfoot. The undergrowth surrounded them, lush and moist under the dense canopy. She eyed the dirt road they had used, which narrowed down to a trail and snaked into the wilderness.

When she joined the others at the back of the van, Nim was already unfolding the palanquin—remodeled to be used just for this sort of occasion. It was a box made with thin sheets of wood and dark metal, with poles for four bearers.

They got to work, packing the equipment they needed for the tovil ceremony. A tranquil silence blanketed the place, with nothing but the rustling leaves and the chirp of insects. Binara could sense the anticipation in the others, though in her case, it was due to a whole other reason. Her mind explored various scenarios in which she could slip away and strike up a casual conversation with the villagers to glean anything they knew of the Great Haunting.

"You two grab the rear," Vinod said, gesturing at the twins. "Nim and I will take the front."

"Sure thing," Dasun said, and his brother echoed an affirmation as they took their positions behind the palanquin.

"We get this whole thing done by evening, and we can be home after nightfall."

"Sounds perfect." Piumi beamed. "Let's go!"

They started their trek to the village.

The trail was far from smooth. It wound around rocks, cut through spring water streams and climbed up a slope. After an hour, Binara's backpack strained her shoulders, and she wondered how people in the past walked long distances, especially when they had to carry royals and nobles. Even Nim had started to huff, sweat beading his brow, while his pudgy hand clamped tight on the palanquin pole.

"Not long now," Piumi said brightly, checking her phone.

"You have a signal?" Vinod panted, adjusting his glasses.

"No, I downloaded the route earlier. It's showing me the distance we have covered."

A monkey vocalized up in the canopy, followed by more of its kin.

"Why are the monkeys making noise?" Sandun asked between breaths.

Dasun smirked. "Probably happy to see their long-lost cousin."

"That makes you their cousin too."

"Shuddup." Binara came to a halt. "Did you hear that?"

"I heard it too," Vinod said, frowning, and gestured for them to stop.

Everyone stilled, eyes raking the trees all around. A loud rustling sound punctuated the quiet, and the ferns moved up ahead. The boys slowly lowered the palanquin. Vinod produced a gun—long, bulky and unlike anything Binara had seen before. Nim unfolded his metal spear. How come I don't have a cool weapon?

Something dark and heavy sprang out onto the trail. Everyone goggled at it.

It was a wild boar. Coarse fur covered the animal, and yellowed tusks protruded from its mouth.

"Maybe we're in its territory," Piumi whispered, eyes wide.

"Don't move," Vinod said slowly. "Maybe it'd—"

Sandun sneezed, an explosive sound that rang out like a battle cry. The boar charged.

Ninety kilos of muscle raced right at them. Everyone jerked back, right when Vinod fired his gun. Water jetted out, hitting the animal square in the face. It startled to a halt, and Binara mirrored its reaction. A bloody water gun?

"Why the heck are you carrying a water gun?" Nim yelled.

"This is a holy water gun," Vinod shot back. "To fight demons—not for aggressive wildlife."

"You splashed a boar with holy water?"

The fierce ungulate was obviously not pleased, and it shook its coat, sending droplets flying. The force of the water might have given a human pause, but the animal was too tough to care. It stamped its feet.

Vinod started flicking at the gun, unlocking some sort of mechanism.

"What are you doing?" Binara asked, eyebrows raised.

"This is the newest model—Diyamara M7. Comes with various settings. I fired at low power," he said. "It wasn't enough as you can—"

The boar charged again—a swift projectile intent on ramming them all the way to hell. The twins backed away while Nim brandished his spear. Vinod aimed the gun.

Another animal streaked from the side and collided with the boar, followed by more brown blurs.

Binara stared at the newcomers. It was a pack of Sinhala hounds, lean and hardy. The boar growled angrily, orienting itself, but the dogs held their ground, snarling. The standoff lasted only seconds. The boar decided it couldn't take on both the humans and the dogs. It backed away, disappearing into the forest.

"Who are you?" a deep voice called out, with a hint of a dialect.

Binara watched as a man arrived on the trail, his thin form encased in a long shirt and drapey pants. He had hair as wild as the vegetation around them. One hand held a stick, which he rested against a shoulder.

Vinod composed himself and stowed away the gun. "Greetings. We are Yakadura agents."

"Oh, yes, yes, we have been expecting you." The man whistled, and the dogs ran to him, wagging their tails. "My name is Siri. Come, follow me."

It took a long minute to process what transpired. Then the boys lifted the palanquin, and they resumed their walk.

Soon afterwards, the trail emerged into the open. Binara squinted against the daylight and soaked in the view.

The man made a sweeping motion. "Welcome to Gongama."