I was running out of time. Most of the crowd had made their way in. I hurried my steps toward the large archway. A man, also dressed in a cloak and mask, was closing two exceptionally large, ornate wooden doors about ten feet high.

I spoke up. "Wait, wait. I'm coming."

The man swung the door open.

I put on my best smile, remembering a second later that I was wearing a mask. "I'm sorry, I had a problem with my shoe."

The man nodded without any sign of suspicion, and I slid by him.

I was finally inside. Now what? They were holding Darla somewhere inside, but where?

I made my way down a hallway and into a big room. Mirrors covered one of the walls. The floor was wood, but not any kind I had seen before. Different colored, exotic looking wood panels created elaborate patterns and designs across the surface of the floor. Three large, crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling.

I expected to see a crowd, but the space was empty. I moved across the room and through another set of doors. This hallway was smaller than the last and entirely red: red paint covered the walls and ceiling, and red carpeting lay on the floors. Hues of red, yellows, and oranges covered the half dozen paintings on the walls. I made my way down the hall, and at the end I stopped in front of another large door.

I was reaching for the doorknob when I felt a chill running across my arms. There was another breeze across my face and a whisper, and I knew I wasn't alone.

I felt a tug on the cloak and then another, and the words "This way" echoed through my mind. It sounded like Sarah's voice. It was then I noticed the large red and gold tapestry hanging on the wall to my right.

I walked over to the tapestry. This way? There was no door, at least not one I could see. I was starting to turn away when something pushed hard against my back, and I stumbled forward. I reached out to catch myself, but instead of falling against the wall, I fell through the tapestry.

I came down hard on my knees on a stone floor. A secret room? I looked around. It wasn't a room, but another hallway. This one was barely wide enough for a single body to move through. Light flickered from somewhere down at the other end. I got to my feet and made my way down the small passageway. My hands trailed against the cold stone wall as I walked. The passage slowly opened up into a small room that was only a few feet long, and on the other side was a gray stone staircase winding into a spiral, heading down. Old fashioned light fixtures lit the walls, and I could see light shining up from wherever the staircase led.

So far, I hadn't met anyone. No one had demanded to know where I was going, and up until this point, if I ran across someone, I could claim to be lost. But if I came across someone now, how would I explain my descent through the dark, winding staircase?

I held my breath as I made my way down the stairs. I got lucky—there was no one to greet me at the bottom. I now stood in a hallway that ran in two directions.

I was looking right and left, trying to decide which way to go, when I heard Sarah's voice again. "Close," she said. Pieces of my hair gently lifted on the left side of my head. Decision made. I turned left and started down the hall.

I don't know why I stopped—no voice sounded this time; no invisible hands were guiding me. Doors lined the hallway, but for some reason one particular doorway brought me to a dead halt. I tried the doorknob. It turned easily enough, but the door still wouldn't open. Looking up, I saw a padlock and hasp near the top of the door. I put my ear to the thick wood—there was a noise. Another. Muted voices on the other side?

It was a crazy thing to do, but I knocked on the door and said softly, "Darla?"

Silence answered my question.

I tried again, this time louder. "Darla, are you in there? It's Colina."

I waited a few seconds. I was starting to walk away when I heard the tap. It was coming from the other side of the door.

"Darla? Is that you?"

Two taps this time.

It's her! I was sure of it. Darla was on the other side of the door. I rattled the door handle in frustration. "Darla, hang in there. The door's locked. I have to try and find something to get it open. Your brother's here. Freddy's here. We're going to get you out."

Two more taps. Was it truly Darla behind the door, just unable to speak? No one had jumped out to grab me, so it wasn't a bad guy. I wanted to believe with all my being that it was Darla.

But if it was and I'd found her, how was I going to get her out?

I made my way back up the stairs, down the passage, and through the tapestry, retracing my footsteps. And then I paused, confused for a moment about which way I had come. All of the doors looked the same, and Sarah seemed to have gone quiet. I went through the door at the end of the hall, trusting luck to lead me out. My only thought was getting back outside so I could find Luke and Freddy. We had to come up with a plan to get back inside and open that door.

I was expecting to walk into another empty room, but this time the room was full. It was identical to the other. Mirrors hung from one wall, wooden patterns ran across the floor, and glass chandeliers hung overhead. But the chandeliers weren't lit. The room was mostly dark except for the glow of candles. A dozen large, black candelabras circled the middle of the room, and each held six lit red candles. The flames from the candles created eerie shadows that danced across the mirrors.

Everyone was dressed in cloaks and masks. Those closest to the door turned when I entered. I had no choice now but to join them and try to act like I was supposed to be there. I nodded my head while walking into the room, and as I did a loud voice boomed overhead, "The time is finally here!"

A man stood on a platform in the center of the room, surrounded by the candelabras. He wore a red robe, and a bright orange mask covered his face.

The man raised his hands and his voice. "Everyone, everyone, thank you for coming!" He made a sweeping gesture with his arms. "I know you're as excited as I am that the time is upon us. We've waited so long for this day."

I immediately recognized his voice.

It was Macaven, the man who murdered my father.

At first, I felt astonishment. Here was the man who killed my family. Then, that shock was replaced by a cold rage. I wanted to rush forward, to attack him and claw at him with my bare hands. My fingers trembled and tears swelled in my eyes. I tried to calm the raging emotions swirling through me.

People began to move forward, and I moved with them. Silence fell over the crowd and bodies pushed in. Everyone's attention was on the man in the red robe.

Someone led a white sheep with large horns up onto the platform. It struggled to get free, bleating loudly, but was held tight. Someone lifted it and put it next to Macaven. It was only when Macaven took a step forward that I saw the stone altar. They tied the sheep to it.

They were going to make a sacrifice. An animal sacrifice.

A large knife was handed to Macaven. He held it high in the air with both hands. The knife came down fast and sliced across the sheep's throat, silencing its frantic bleating.

Applause sounded from the crowd, and they began to chant the name "Macaven" as blood gushed onto the altar.

I felt my whole body begin to tremble.

He killed the sheep just like he killed my father.

Macaven raised a hand in the air, and everyone fell silent. "I know we've waited so very long for this day. Many of you have newly come into our fold to be a part of this fantastic journey we're about to embark on." He wiped the blade of the knife across the sleeve of his robe. "As you know, I'm Donald Macaven, grand master of the Garuda Guild. For one hundred years, the rest of the death dealer guilds have forced our people away from the past traditions that made us one of the strongest guilds. It was a vain attempt to gain favor with weak souls unfit to lick our boots."

"For one hundred years, we've stood by and watched as other weaker guilds used small, minded rules to steal our power and influence. They outlawed sacrifices, which are the path to true power. Our weakness forced us into submission, but no more. No more will we follow the ways of others. We've been and always will be the true leaders of our kind. Magical royalty pumps through our veins."

He began to walk around the stone altar. "With the traditional sacrifice of a ram, I call this convocation of the Garuda Guild to order. With this sacrifice we commemorate the greater sacrifices that have made this day possible and ask the blessing of the dark powers in our great working.

"I know many of you who have entered our fold over the last year are not blood kin." He raised his hand again. "But that doesn't mean that you're not family to us. You're all closer now than blood could ever be, for you've helped shed blood in our name, for our cause. You've done what had to be done in order for us to raise ourselves back up toward greatness. Without your help, we wouldn't be here now on the precipice of a new age."

"I know there were some who refused to be a part of this great adventure. I think we should take a moment and bow our heads in silence for those lost to us, for those poor souls who could not—or would not—see the way to true enlightenment."

Everyone around me bowed their heads. I did the same. What the hell is going on? Who are all these people, and what is this "enlightenment" he's talking about? I have to get out of here and find Luke and Freddy. I had never heard of the Garuda Guild, but, then again, I wasn't that familiar with death dealer guilds.

I started to take a step back, looking for a way back outside, but before I could move away, Macaven lifted his head. He raised the dagger high in the air and swiftly brought it down into the middle of the now dead ram. He slashed across its midsection. Blood and guts started to ooze out onto the stone's surface.

He shouted and raised his arms. "We call on you, dark powers beyond, the forces that can show us the way to the true calling!"

The ram's blood and entrails poured down onto the altar, and a swirl of orange began to form above the stone. Faces slowly surfaced within the orange cloud—faces with expressions frozen in torment and pain. Macaven was calling on spirits. As these spirits opened their mouths, wild, terrified shrieks filled the room. Banshees. He's raised banshees.

I began to move back in earnest but was only able to take one step before a shock of recognition ran through me. One of the faces in the mist looked familiar. There was something about the nose and the lips. Oh, Goddess, how can this be? I watched in absolute horror as the spirit of my brother, James, floated past.

"James," I whispered. The moment I did, my brother's spirit changed direction and headed toward me.

I took a faltering step forward, my hand outstretched. "James."

Before I could move, arms grabbed me roughly from behind. A hand covered my mouth, dragging me back into the shadows. I struggled against my assailant, but he was stronger. I was shoved to the back of the room. I broke free and twirled around, my hands forming into fists. I started to take a swing, but then froze when I grasped that it was Luke glaring down at me.

He had on a black cloak, and a golden mask was pushed up onto his forehead. "Are you insane? You can't confront a banshee. It's suicidal."

"It's James, my brother—did you see him?" My words came out in a rush.

Luke stood looking at me, his expression one of shock. "One of the banshees is your brother?"

I nodded. A tear slid down my face.

"Colina, how did your brother die?"

I turned away, unable to answer.