Sabrina found that the Séance Room was actually underground—and the passageway to get there was under the fireplace. As the trio stepped out, Sabrina brushed slight traces of ash off her skirt. "What happens if you want to get down there, but there's a fire?" she wondered.

"You're screwed?" Salem offered.

Leota scowled at Salem's language. "THIS," she began, hoping to divert the conversation, "is the Great Hall. We'll begin our quest here."

"Ooh…we're starting a quest, Sabs! Don't you feel all RPG-like?"

"Shut up."

Leota's eyebrow twitched. Am I going to have to avert bloodshed the entire time they're here? She sighed, and cleared her throat. "All right, our main objective in every room is to turn on the light—the switch to that room is next to the door."

Sabrina shrugged. "Seems simple enough."

The small group began to meander towards the other end of the room. The Great Hall wasn't as impressive as the other two rooms were—the room was a bland oatmeal color, with auburn-colored terra-cotta floor tiles. Chairs and wooden chests were scattered on either side of the hallway, and dusty dark brown draperies framed slightly warped windows. She could see a storm brewing outside the nearest window. There were also a few paintings, but the focal point seemed to be the fireplace they'd exited from.

Sabrina squinted as she saw what appeared to be a flash of light. "Leota, what's that?" she asked, pointing to the door. As the gauzy shape drew nearer, Sabrina saw it was black-and-white, with a skeletal head, clawed hands, and a dripping aura of cold.

"…That would be one of those bad ghosts I told you about."

"What should I do?" Sabrina yelped, wondering how long it would be before it reached them.

"Fire the Beacon!"

"…and how would I do that?" Sabrina shot back. "I don't see a trigger anywhere."

"Just concentrate on the energy source inside of it! Use some of your magic and try pushing the energy from the Beacon towards the ghost!" Leota seemed a bit more frantic, since the ghost was drifting closer.

Sabrina held up the lantern, feeling silly, but determined. Screwing her eyes shut, she concentrated on the magical feel of the Beacon. The energy felt vaguely like magic, though almost like a tangible force. Summoning the concentration she normally used for casting spells, she imagined energy being forced towards the ghost. It's like casting a spell, really. Only, I'm manipulating this energy instead of my own magic.

Biting her lip, she concentrated harder, the ghost almost five feet away. With another mental and magical nudge, she pushed on the Beacon's energy, while pointing it at the ghost. To her amazement, a ball of white light shot from the core of the lantern, imploding on contact with the ghost.

Sabrina gaped as it slowly fizzled away into nothingness.

"Now, turn that switch on! Before another one comes out!" Leota urged.

Sabrina didn't need to be told twice, as she sprinted to the switch and flipped it on. The light fixtures on the ceiling flickered, and then lit up, spreading a buttery-warmth glow. Sabrina felt her insides relax.

She continued to walk around. Everything seemed to be in order…just really dusty…

Is that me, or did that painting just move?

Across the hall, a crooked painting seemed to shift slightly. Curious, Sabrina drew further. Upon touching it, the wall slid back to reveal a secret panel. Sabrina nearly jumped back in surprise.

"Leota, does this happen often?" I'll need to be more careful, lest I give myself a heart attack.

"Oh, yes, Ambrose Gracey, who built this house, had all sorts of little niches and secret rooms and passageways built in. They're everywhere!"

Sabrina rubbed the back of her neck. "Lovely." A quick search turned up a scrap of paper. She bent and picked it up. It was made of parchment—very old—and was yellowed, vaguely brittle. "You've found part of a Death Certificate," Leota noted. "If we find the other pieces of it, we can take it to the proper ghost for a reward."

"Why would a ghost want a Death Certificate? Some kind of morbid memento?" Salem had poked his head out of the satchel and was staring at the scrap of parchment.

"It's...well..." Leota trailed off, and then frowned. "There are several ghosts here," she began slowly, as if trying to think of what to say, "that never lived here. They were connected with the family in some way or shape, and their remains were buried on the grounds. The six friends that I spoke of-the ones who greeted you before-are six of the most powerful ghosts here. They've been attempting to help me fight off Thorne's advances. But the last time that they did, they paid for it dearly." The psychic fell quiet for a few minutes. "They...had their memories erased."

Sabrina and Salem stared at her, curious and bewildered.

"You see, ghosts...that is...when a being dies and its soul doesn't pass on but remains...well, our memories become more focal to our existence than they were when we lived. Especially the moment that we died; it's the linchpin of our postmortem existence. And Thorne," Leota's voice became choked, "took their memories from them. He materialized them as these Death Certificates, tore them up, and scattered them."

"So their memories have been scattered throughout the house," Sabrina mused. "And we can...fix it?"

"I'm hoping that by collecting all the pieces, that we can...well, that we can 'fit it back,' for lack of a better phrase." Leota looked at Sabrina pleadingly. "Please...I don't know what could happen to them if they remain without their memories for too much longer. Are you willing to help me look for the pieces?"

"Of course!" Sabrina held the crystal ball up to her eye level and smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry. Everything will be fine."

Leota sighed with relief, gratitude shining in her eyes.

"Well, we should get going," Sabrina said. "Too much to do and not enough time!" A sudden shimmering caught her eye, as it coalesced into the form of a man. A ghost? The ghost huddled down behind a table, eyes darting nervously.

"Um, hello?" Sabrina offered, drawing nearer to the man.

"Oh no, oh no…" whimpered the man. Sabrina blinked. "I should have listened to the Madame…" Sabrina wondered if he'd even heard her.

The man began to rock forward on his heels, whimpering. "But it's too late now…too late for any of us…the worms…the worms will come for us all!"

"Someone forgot his Valium," Salem mumbled.

Sabrina looked at him pityingly. Poor guy…I wonder what he's so worried about…

That was when the window caught her eye. She stepped forward, putting a hand on one of the panes. It was cool to the touch—something normal in this house of horrors. Outside, heavy, ash-gray clouds swirled high in the sky, while the rest of the horizon was painted an unearthly pale yellow.

There is an evil aura in this place…I can't place it exactly, but it seems to hang everywhere, rankling and festering. It feels…like death. Sabrina shivered.

Salem rubbed against her shoulder. "You cold?"

"No—just scared out of my mind."

"You're the one with the magic lantern. Shouldn't I be scared?"

"Children, puh-lease!" Leota groaned. "Let's go, already. There's a lot to do, and not much time."

Sabrina slowly walked to the door, and put her hand out to touch the knob when a barrier of purple electricity sprang to life, crackling against the door. She stepped back, staring at it. Why was she here, again? She could walk into this room, and begin a fantastic and horrific journey that would lead to evil itself. She would risk her life again and again.

An estate full of lost souls hung in the balance, between a man corrupt with hatred and bitterness, and a lust for death…and between a girl who stood as an emissary of light, a figure of justice.

Would she do this?

Could she do this?

Was she strong enough to battle against a horde of supernatural creatures, to wander a house twisted and warped by dark magic? Could she withstand a servant of evil?

She was a witch, true, one of the most powerful creatures in the world. But she was also human, a weak human.

But…

She had to be strong enough. Why would Drell have chosen her, then? Why choose an agent not strong enough to perform the tasks given? This could be a test. A chance to prove herself. A chance to prove herself to the world—and to herself, that she could accomplish anything.

Yes, she would complete this task…even if it killed her.

Resolute, Sabrina firmly grasped the doorknob. The purple electricity melted into purple fire, and disappeared. Smiling grimly, Sabrina twisted the knob, and pulled.

And with Salem humming the theme from "Ghostbusters," she stepped forward.

The door shut behind the Spirit Detective. Briefly, a figure draped in robes of dull grays and blues hovered behind the door. It paused, fingering the long-bladed scythe it carried. As abruptly as it came, it glided upward, disappearing through the ceiling.

Next chapter: The mystery begins as Sabrina and her friends venture into the Mansion. Can they solve the barrage of puzzles throughout the rooms, or will the faulty staircases get to them first?