Sabrina giggled as she bounced out of the Kitchen. Rather than drunk, she was slightly tipsy. Witches were able to process alcohol rapidly, due to the structure of their bodies and metabolism. Luckily for the small group, this meant that Sabrina was only giggly and a little clumsy while the wine rapidly passed through her system.
Salem had opted to pad by the Detective's side, rather than hitch a lift in her backpack. Leota, nestled in the bottom of the sack and crowded by bottles of Bravery Tonic, could only pray that the slightly buzzed witch would not pick this time to stumble and fall, thereby shattering Leota's crystal sphere.
Sabrina leaned against the Kitchen door, trying to decide which direction to go in. Right or left? Hmmm… "I'll just pick one!" she chirped, heading to her right.
"I don't think this is the right way to go," mumbled Leota, muffled by the bottles she shared the backpack with. "We're heading towards the Pantry."
"S'okay, Leota!" Sabrina chirped, again. There was a bounce to her step and a broad smile on her face. "S'all good!"
"No, it isn't," Salem muttered, peering ahead into the shadowed end of the hallway. Maybe it's me, but I think something's moving.
A soft clicking came from the moving hump of shadows Salem had spotted. When one thin, orange leg slowly peeped out, Sabrina groaned.
"I thought I killed that lil' bugger," she moaned. "Don't tell me there're more where that one comes from!"
"Apparently so," Leota sighed.
Sabrina sighed, and clutched the Beacon in her fist. The spider, intrigued by prey that came so willingly to its nest, edged forward. Jaws dripping with a slimy white substance clicked once, then twice.
Salem backed up one step, but no further. Sabrina's lack of shrieking and panicking served to greatly bolster his courage. Maybe the wine loosened her up a bit…
The spider inched forward.
She pulled her free hand back, almost as if to punch it. This is weird…what's this in my hand? Her gaze dropped down to her first, to see it slowly glowing. It felt like the very blood in her hand was pulsating. Wait…that's energy! Soul energy! Somehow, I can tap into it. Maybe my own magic's the cause of this…
She focused, drawing out energy from within the Beacon, pulling it inside the network of nerves that transmitted the flow of magical energy throughout her body. Carefully directing it to pool in her right hand, Sabrina was pleased to feel the steady hum of the gathering power. Pulling her hand back, she snapped her wrist forward, pushing the energy away as if casting a spell. Her efforts were rewarded when the blast made direct contact with the massive arachnid.
The spider gave a high-pitched whine as the blast tore a hole through its midsection. A sticky-looking substance (that Sabrina guessed was blood) slowly—very slowly—began to ooze. The spider's legs quivered as it rolled onto its back, insides caved in, and legs rolled up tight in death.
The party members stood, watching the oozing carcass of the spider. "Okay, say it with me!" Sabrina prompted the others.
"EEEEWWWWW…"
She remained, rooted to the spot, as the creature dissolved into a pile of ash.
"So…uhh…" how did you do that?"
"What do you mean?" Sabrina turned to look at Salem.
He nodded toward the Beacon, which was being held in her left hand. "You didn't fire that energy from the Beacon. It looked like you were casting a spell, almost." The cat looked up at her with quizzical eyes. "How'd you do it?"
"I don't really know," Sabrina said slowly, puzzling it out. "It—I think that if I concentrate on the soul energy in the Beacon hard enough, I can sort of draw it in. It's like the Beacon's an extension of me, somehow."
"Interesting," Leota murmured. "I've never seen it used like that." She paused for a moment, lost in thought.
Shrugging faintly, Sabrina turned around, and found a door to her left. She paused, extending her hand to the doorknob. A fierce crackling stung her fingertips, denying her entry.
She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck, and began walking forwards. This ghostbusting business is a lot harder than the movie made it out to be. I mean, I'm collecting ghosts, casting pseudo-spells with energy of dead people, fighting an evil warlock…
Salem padded by her side, looking up occasionally. "Seems like you've regained most of your motor-"
Sabrina staggered, and fell, narrowly missing a group of claws bursting from their prison.
"…skills…"
"Don't worry," Sabrina grunted as she attempted to pick herself off the floor, "the alcohol should pass through my system quickly. Witches' bodies process alcohol much more rapidly than humans' do."
"One can only hope," Leota muttered.
Continuing on, it was discovered that there was one more room left in that branch of the hallway. "The Maids' Room," Leota announced, "where the household help lived." Salem wound himself in and out of Sabrina's legs as she broke the barrier.
As they stepped inside, they discovered that the room was of medium proportions, with pale blue wallpaper, a bare floor, and a single iron-frame bed at the far wall, set next to a dresser and a mirror…or a portrait… It was so thickly covered in dust Sabrina gave up trying to guess what it was.
Dripping cold slowly filled the room as Thorne's ever-present ghost allies materialized from just in front of the bed. Sabrina grinning, mimicking her attack earlier by pulling the energy out of the Beacon itself and firing, rather than expel it directly from the lantern.
As soon as she was sure that the room was free of anything else that might attack them, she loosened the flap on the backpack, allowing Leota to peek out. "Got any ideas? The room looks completely bare...of anything useful, that is."
"What I want to know," Salem announced, "is why they only had one maid."
Sabrina blinked. "Come again?"
"It's the Maid's Room, right? Wouldn't they have more than one maid in a place this big?"
"Uh…" for once, Sabrina wasn't sure how to answer the cat's question. Why are we even discussing this?
"You're the thinking of a misplaced apostrophe, honey," Leota chuckled. "It's Maids', as in belonging to two or more maids."
"Then why's there only one bed?" Salem demanded.
"Maybe they had futons," Sabrina guessed.
"Or sleeping bags."
"Or maybe," Leota gritted, "they didn't care about where they slept when they had the lights on, if you catch my drift."
Sabrina laughed nervously. Wow. Leota's kind of scary when she's angry. "Right." She looked around; her eyes flitting over the room's pitifully few furnishings. If I were a light switch, where would I be?
Her eyes flitted fruitlessly over the walls of the room. They remained devoid of anything resembling a light switch. The Spirit Detective sighed, and moved to lean against the left-hand wall. "I give up." Abruptly, the wall pulled away from her, sliding back at least six feet. She fell backwards, unceremoniously landing on her rear.
"LEOTA!" she wailed.
Perhaps Sabrina was asking Leota if she was in one piece. Or maybe, she was asking if the psychic had known about the shifting walls beforehand. Either way, Leota interpreted the shout as asking for a hint as to why the wall had pulled from under her.
"Though shifting walls may hide your doom, seek out the entrance to each room."
"Doom?" Salem's amber eyes were the size of saucers. "We're doomed?" He began crying in the same pathetic fashion that he usually did when he couldn't get his own way…or when he was hungry and begging for food.
"Stop it, you crybaby," Sabrina snapped from her position on the floor. "We're not doomed. We're just...stuck for the time being." As she pushed herself off the floor, she turned and gazed warily at the disobedient wall. I wonder if the other walls are like this…
She slowly walked forward, holding her hands out, towards the wall. Her hands touched the cool surface, and pressed. It isn't moving…this must be the true boundary of this wall.
Keeping her hand on the wall, she turned to her right, heading for the wall the bed rested against. She moved her hand away from the west wall, and brought it up to touch the northern one.
Almost immediately, a swarm of ghosts shot out of the wall. The Detective gasped as they swiped at her a few times, while she fumbled for the Beacon in her hands. Finally managing to blast them away, she dropped to her knees, gasping.
She had been unsure, previously, of how ghosts could interact with their environment, or with living creatures. She was still a little shaky on her theory, but it seemed that they could at least inflict nonphysical damage. It felt as if her soul or her mind had been wounded, in a way. Dizziness thrummed in her head as she gasped for breath. Her head began to reel with the beginning of a panic attack.
Is it possible for these ghosts to cause you to go insane? I mean, if they attack you enough, could they tear your psyche to shreds? Either way, I have to be more careful. Any mistake on my part could lead to something worse than a physical injury.
"Are you all right, honey?" Leota asked solicitously.
"Nothing that a little Bravery Tonic won't cure," she rasped, rummaging in the bag for a bottle. "I think I can use a little boost of bravery right about now." She pulled one out, eying it for a minute, before uncapping it and hesitantly sipping. The contents were cool, with a pleasant citrus flavor. Wow…just a mouthful makes me feel better!
Salem eyed her for a moment. "Be careful," he said quietly. "Too much contact with those malicious spirits won't be good for your spiritual…or mental health."
Sabrina froze mid-sip, nearly choking. "So it's true?" she asked curiously, wiping her mouth. "They can make you go crazy?"
"Yes," Leota answered in his place. Salem scowled at her for beating him to the reply. "Though a ghost or spirit cannot harm you physically, the damage they can wreak upon your spiritual self—your soul, in other words—and your mind could be tremendous."
"Well, this seems to help," Sabrina noted, hefting a bottle.
"I never was able to find out from the Doc exactly what he put in that stuff," Leota mused. "But seeing as it's a bravery tonic, I guess it somehow reverses the mental damage that's caused—fear, paranoia, and so on."
"Maybe he just added massive doses of caffeine," Salem teased. "And now Sabrina will have jitters all night anyway."
Sabrina rolled her eyes at the cat's obnoxious comment. Tossing the bottle away, she pushed at the northern wall again. It slid back under her touch. Stepping forward again, she followed that wall along to the east one.
"Maybe I ask what you're doing?" Salem drawled.
"Finding the boundaries of this room. Maybe we'll find another door that will lead us to the wall switch," Sabrina responded absent-mindedly.
The eastern wall slid away, as was expected, revealing a doorway. A small smile spread across the blonde's face. "That," she pointed at the door, "is as good a lead as any." She leaned forward and opened the door.
A gigantic orange-and-black spider, nearly identical to the ones in the Game Room and Downstairs Hallway, turned to face her.
Sabrina slammed the door shut.
"Oh, damn."
"Spider?" the psychic offered.
"How'd you guess?"
Sabrina glared at the door. I hate this stupid room. I hate these stupid spiders. I swear, if I…no, no! When I get home, I will never think of spiders the same way again. I will go home. I will.
"Fine."
She gritted her teeth, and began to consciously pull at the energy within the Beacon. Stomping up to the door, she yanked it open, and casually decimated the arachnid with a few blasts. The blonde Detective snorted and walked inside, slamming the door behind her.
Salem, left behind with Leota on the bed, sighed. "At least this will save us a bundle on arachnophobia therapy."
In the next room, Sabrina had followed the walls around, searching for the next door, when she realized something.
There's an intersection here. A maze in a maze. "Damn," she said again, surprising herself at her repeated use of profanity.
Indeed, the Maids' Room was a maze of passageways. The hallways were made of intersections, suggesting that in its proper, un-cursed state, there were small sectioned-off areas within the large room. Not knowing what else to do, the witch simply took the opposite hallway in the intersection.
"If only," she mused, "I'd remembered to bring a ball of string or bread crumbs or something to leave a trail." This place is dangerous…If I get caught in a dead-end section, I'm finished, given my sense of direction…or misdirection, rather. I have to remember where each doorway leads.
The hallway led to a fork. "Great. Just great," she mumbled, rubbing a braid between her fingers. Picking the left side, (I should just keep choosing left each time, she figured) she continued walking, to find…
Another fork in the hallways. And a bunch of her favorite little eight-legged pals crawling out of the right-hand side to greet her.
After stomping them into little puddles of squished bug goop, Sabrina quickly decided to, again, take the left-hand side. This appeared to be a good choice, as it yielded a door. It was little reassurance that she was on the right path, but certainly better than a dead end.
The room it opened up into was bare but for a few ghosts swarming from between the ceiling boards. After exasperatedly blasting them to the world beyond (it was starting to get rather monotonous), she stuck to her 'push a wall back as far as you can, and run around the room doing it' strategy. A door was her reward for pushing a wall to the left and forward. She opened the door, expecting another dark, dusty room.
She found herself back at the entrance; a befuddled Salem and Leota stared at her, and the lights were still off. Stepping through the doorway, she shook her head in disbelief.
"Ooookay…no light switch here…"
"Then what are you here for?" Salem demanded.
"Give me a break!" Sabrina snarled. "This was where the other rooms led me!" Angered at the feline, she prowled along the edges, finding that the right-hand one now pushed back even farther and to the right to reveal a door.
She pouted all through the next intersection and fork, not noting her path.
Oh great…was it the right-hand or left-hand path I took? …Like it matters…
She blinked. Another door. "I get it, I get it," she groused, to the air around her. "Okay. I'm following the doors like you want me to. I just want to find the stupid light switch!"
This door led her back to the entrance, too. "That was weird," she commented. She blinked. There was a light switch next to the door.
Sabrina's mouth neatly dropped open as she pointed dumbly to the switch. "Light switch," she croaked, "right there."
Salem and Leota swiveled to examine the wall. "Yes," Salem remarked casually. "It would appear to be so."
"But…but…it wasn't there before!" Sabrina sputtered.
"Come to think of it," Leota frowned, it wasn't there before you walked through the door the last time."
"Maybe you had to walk through all the doors," Salem postulated.
"If so, that was a stupid idea," Sabrina griped. "None of these challenges we're being faced with are difficult at all. There's no point to them; they're just busywork." Her face darkened. "The jerk's underestimating me. I hate it when people do that."
Glowering, the Spirit Detective flipped on the light. The walls slammed back into their proper places, and several small lamps scattered around the room lit up. A familiar oak lectern stood by the left-hand wall.
Sabrina's mouth dropped into a neat little 'o' shape, as she recalled seeing that same lectern and book before, but in a different room… The trio stared at it for a minute, uncomfortably aware that the book had not been there fifteen seconds before.
"Read it," Leota urged in a whisper.
Sabrina hesitantly walked up to the text. Can Thorne sense where we are? He must be a powerful warlock…and the most powerful witches can extend portions of their own energy into precious objects. If that's true, Thorne's been keeping his eye on us the whole time.
She shuddered, thinking of her slide down the banister, ending in a heap on the floor. Her petticoats had been a bit too high up her legs when she'd landed… She shuddered again. I don't know what this Thorne looks like, but it's disturbing, nonetheless, thinking of some old guy watching your every move…
"C'mon," Salem whispered, staring at the book. It looks like it's pulsating…like it wants to be read…
As Sabrina neared it, the book flipped open of its own accord. She shrieked slightly, jumping back. Willing her heart to stop pounding so violently, she came closer, and began reading.
Tome of Shadows
Volume II
Page 482
We must have the Beacon of Souls. The Brotherhood has been wise to keep it hidden from us. In secret it travels, from the mountains of Italy to the valleys of Spain, always just beyond our grasp. But our eyes and ears are everywhere, and the Beacon will be found. I will scour to the end of the earth until it is located. So it is written and so it shall be.
A. Thorne
Grand Master
The Order of Shadows
December 21st, 1541 A.D.
Sabrina's gaze dropped to the Beacon clutched in her hand. How can a lantern…a battered, soul-sucking lantern, be so important that a warlock like Thorne would devote centuries of his life searching for it? It doesn't make sense.
"Leota."
The psychic's lovely eyes fastened onto the young girl.
"…Why?" Sabrina whispered. She traced the dents and bumps of the lantern's service with her forefinger. "Why does he want this thing so badly? What's so special about it?"
Leota swiveled to face the Beacon. "Suffice to say, the Beacon of Souls is more powerful than it appears to be." Her face took on a vague, dreamy look that Sabrina promptly recognized as a trance.
"The Beacon was created long ago by a powerful witch—a Druid—who was a devotee of the power of Light. She locked away pieces of Light magic and energy inside it, and called it the Beacon of Souls, hoping that its power would call her fellow countrymen away from the dark magicks, and into the redeeming power of the light. You must understand; this was a time of political and social difficulty—the polytheistic Romans controlled Europe, and the Druids were struggling to survive and practice their nature-worship.
"It was handed down among the descendants of her Druid clan until Thorne, the leader of the Order of Shadows, discovered its existence, and its true power. If he could harness its energy, he could have unlimited power. To protect the Beacon, its guardians formed an organization known as the Brotherhood of Light; witches who understood and were part of the light flocked to them to lend their strength. Wherever the Order lurked, the Brotherhood was one step ahead, keeping their precious Beacon out of the Order's dark claws."
Sabrina reverently rubbed the handle. "So, Thorne wants this because he could take its power for himself?"
Leota nodded solemnly. "You must guard it with your life, Sabrina. The Beacon of Souls is the only weapon strong enough to challenge Thorne. It is our only hope."
Salem's amber eyes never wavered from her face, as the girl bit her lip and nodded, gripping the Beacon so tightly it must have left a welt in her palm. His eyes followed her as she turned to hunt for the Shriveled Souls. She's so young…trapped in a situation beyond her control… Her power is nowhere near strong enough to match the aura I've felt here. I didn't want to say anything, but…
This Thorne is strong...unbelievably so. I've never felt any trace aura so overpowering…and I'm afraid that no matter how much energy those Soul Gems provide, it won't be enough to compete with a centuries-old darkness that's been brooding. Drell had absolutely no idea what he was doing when he sent us here…
Sabrina returned, carrying a scrap of a Death Certificate. "Room's clear," she announced, in a tone curiously devoid of any emotion. This is too much pressure. I don't want to be a part of this any more. I…I don't think I can do this! She sighed, placing a hand to her chest. Why is my heart pounding so hard, still? She shuddered, and leaned against the wall.
Lub-dub...lub-dub…lub-dub…
She blinked, removing her hand from her heart. "Do you hear that?" she whispered.
Salem nodded, and Leota darted her head in all directions, trying to divine the source of the heartbeat. Sabrina trembled faintly. Leota's mouth dropped slightly. "The mirror!" she hissed. "Look at the mirror!"
Turning her head to where Leota indicated, Sabrina felt her breath catch in her throat. It actually was a mirror over the bureau next to the bed, she realized. Because in the mirror was the reflection…or image…of a glowing, beating red heart.
Lub-dub…lub-dub…lub-dub…
"Elizabeth?" Leota's voice dropped away into a chasm of nearly a hundred years.
Slowly, a misty image formed around the macabre heart, which, bit by bit, flickered into reality. Standing before the mirror was the ghostly form of a young woman, dressed in wispy white. A bridal gown, Sabrina realized. With leg-of-mutton sleeves, a tapered waist, and a flowing lace train, the dress was made in the style of a long-gone era. The ornate white veil was pinned to her head from a small wreath of white roses, and extended a good four feet down the woman's back.
The woman slowly turned to face the group, and they sucked in a collective breath.
The veil covered her face, of which nothing could be seen, save for two dark spots that Sabrina guessed were the eyes. Her nonexistent face didn't scare the Detective as much as the glowing, blood red heart slowly beating under her bosom.
Yet again the gypsy's voice was raised in an incredulous whisper, "Elizabeth?" Had Sabrina not been both horrified and fascinated, she would have compared the tableau to that of Poe's The Raven.
"Leota." Had the whisper come from the bride before them? Sabrina was sure of it.
"It's you," the psychic murmured in awe and adoration. "It's really you."
"Where is he?"
"Edward? You mean, where is Edward?" Leota frowned.
"Where is he?"
"I don't know," Leota confessed. "Like you, I've been trapped. My only refuge was my room below the Great Hall. Thorne couldn't touch me there. Have the others been trapped and bound as well?"
A barely perceptible nod was the gypsy woman's only response.
Leota sighed. "We haven't come across Edward yet…he must be locked away somewhere else in the Mansion."
"Tell him…"
"Yes?" Sabrina prompted, the first time she'd spoken during the revelation. Although some of the fright she felt upon first seeing the ghostly bride remained, her sympathies were beginning to be aroused. "Tell him what, Elizabeth?"
"I'm waiting for him. I'm still waiting for him."
Sabrina blinked. "I'm afraid I don't-"
"Tell him what I said last. My heart beats for only him."
With that, Elizabeth turned back to the mirror, her form coalescing into that of a small orb of glowing white-and-blue energy. The ball hovered over the bureau, before settling into a small, intricately carved box set on the bureau's top.
Amazing. After all these years, she still loves him—this Edward—enough to wait here for him.
Sabrina's eyes softened. "I'll find him, Elizabeth. And don't worry…I'll pass your message on."
Here's where elements from the movie come in…although things are not exactly as you might think...
Elizabeth is actually a composite of the movie's Elizabeth (Master Gracey's lost love) and the ride's Attic Bride (the one with the beating heart).
Next chapter:
In the Dining Room, the gang finds plenty of spiders and ghosts, but no switch. Can they navigate their way through a sea of candles to complete the task? Meanwhile, Sabrina struggles to come to terms with her duty as protector of the Beacon. And what is the story behind the mysterious bride, Elizabeth, and the man she loves, Edward?