Paper bats hung in the town square and pumpkins twinkled with candles. Lena preferred puzzles to candy, so she carried a notebook and a black marker. Next to her walked Iwo and Sonia, wrapped in capes, laughing at plastic skeletons. There was a smell of baked apples and smoke in the air, as someone was burning a bonfire. This year they decided to play the town a game that no one had put together. Or rather, as whispered in the library, the game had already chosen the three of them. On a lamppost by the pharmacy hung an envelope, nailed with a pin in the shape of a bat's wing. Someone had written their names on the paper, as if they knew the character of Sonia and Lena. Inside was a map of the old Tapestry by the river and a riddle printed in red ink. Whoever finds the shadow after midnight will open the city that never sleeps, the inscription read. Iwo snorted, but there was a gleam in his eyes that he could not hide. So they walked towards the river, passing stalls where lanterns, gingerbread and werewolf masks were sold. The weavers had stood empty for years, but today someone had switched on a light on the top floor. The gate was ajar, as if waiting, and inside it smelled of dust and wet wood. Chalk drew arrows on the stairs, leading them through corridors with broken glass and posters of plays. At the door of the cantina sat four pumpkins, numbered, each with a different symbol cut out. One flashed an arrow, another had an eye, a third a smile and the fourth represented a locked padlock. A metallic clatter sounded from deep within, reminiscent of a loom starting up or a huge clock. A projector stood in the cantina, covered in dust but warm, as if someone had just touched it. The tape was already running, though no one had turned it on, and silhouettes of children appeared on the wall. First the parade from a year ago, rocking lanterns, then the three of them, just crossing the gate of the Tapestry. Lena blinked, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck raise of their own accord, completely without being asked. A chalk inscription appeared on the screen: don't turn around and everything will be counted. At that moment, the phones went off simultaneously, and a familiar whisper came from the corridor. Someone, or something, spoke their names, in their exact voices, from the end of the stairs.