There was no further to go.

Well, at least that’s what I thought until Margot put her hands on the globe and whispered, “Revelare”. The cities on the globe began to glow golden like little stars in the sky, and the globe slowly rotated until – how could it be otherwise? – a spiral staircase that wound around the globe to the next floor came into view.

In what extended version of Harry Potter had I landed here?

“Follow me, we’re the last ones. The others are waiting for you.”

The others?

Great. There was probably a whole armada of Gandalfs. And the fact that they were all waiting for me didn’t make anything better.

Margot went down without another word and the candlesticks on the brick walls went on by themselves.

I didn’t question it anymore, because I had realized by now that I was in a magical house where everything seemed to have a life of its own, even if a large part of me didn’t want to believe it.

Instead, I just hoped I could climb those stairs a second time, namely upwards.

“Put your hoods on.”

I obeyed Margot and pulled on my white hood, which fell deep into my vision.

Downstairs was a masonry of stone with two double doors of dark oak, framed by stone women. The statues wore noble robes, as at the fountain outside, this time, however, without water, but with real plants that they carried on their hands like something sacred. And their legs seemed to be normal.

Margot approached the door in front of us and made a quick gesture with her hand. The gate opened and Margot led us into a large, pillared underground hall, lit by torches alone.

My jaw dropped.

How could such a gigantic hall fit under this house? It reminded me of the interior of a massive temple, with its columns decorated by ornaments and frescoes, the upper side windows with glass art, and an altar in the center on which various tinctures, stone bowls, and other strange things were placed.

When I caught sight of at least twenty people in black hoods, nervousness spread through me again.

It actually seemed to me like a cult that was holding its ritual tonight to summon demons. All that was missing was the sacrifice.

My heart began to race.

What if...

“Step closer,” a woman’s voice commanded, hidden under one of the black hoods. She stepped up to the altar, and my mother closed her gap in the circle.

I obeyed again and stepped into the charcoal circle full of runes drawn on the floor, past two hooded figures. I tried to make out their faces, but the shadows were too large, and I only saw the greenish glow of their...eyes?

Everyone here seemed to have some sort of issue with their eyes, because that was the only, and at the same time scariest, thing I could make out.

Cautiously, I continued to approach the woman at the altar until I reached her.

She took off her hood and revealed her identity.

Startled, I paused, because Amara’s eyes were glowing green like the other day, even greener than the eyes of the others down here. Not as intense as Julian’s and Emely’s yellow irises, but the fact that they were glowing should be enough to make me throw in the towel and get the hell out of this goddamn place. I probably wouldn’t even be able to find my way out of the first basement floor, as disoriented as I was.

“Welcome to the temple, sister.”

I was definitely not her sister, and if she thought we would become best buddies, she could forget it right away.

Amara placed her hands on my shoulders, smiling. Then she nodded at me and put her hood back on.

With a hand on my shoulder, she escorted me to the altar. Now, I could see more exactly what was lying there.

Red blossoms, a small crystal-clear shimmering stone pendant on a golden chain, and a... dagger?

My eyes widened, and the warmth in my chest disappeared instantly, as quickly as it had come.

What on earth were they going to do to me? If I was going to die tonight, it was too late for one last hug from my mother. For a few seconds, I forgot about the resentment between us and looked at her in panic. But she was not there.

Hidden under a hood, two gray-white eyes shone at me instead, watchful and determined.

Meanwhile, Amara took the necklace from the altar and put it on my neck. Wasn’t there my other pendant? But I only felt the cold, glassy stone and remembered how Mum must have taken my own necklace off my neck when I had just woken up from my faint.

Amara paced around the altar and pointed to the large stone slab.

Startled, I looked for anything in her eyes that didn’t mean I should lie down there.

“Lie down.”

I swallowed.

Of course, I should lie down on the sacrificial altar.

Nervously, I did as I was told and lay down on the cold stone. The hood slipped off my head, and I felt exposed.

I thought I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me and wanted to look around, but Amara was quicker and smeared something strong-smelling red on my forehead. I deeply hoped that it was not blood and knew how gullible I thought.

What was it supposed to be, Bayla? Acrylic paint?

Concerned now, I watched each of Amara’s steps as she began to talk to the dagger.

“Nos sorores coniunge.”

Fiery glowing runes flared up at the dagger. Four triangles, all of which looked slightly different.

And then Amara slashed her finger and passed the dagger to the round, where everyone did the same.

I got a queasy feeling in my stomach.

Each of the members repeated the words aloud, and I thought I heard six familiar voices.

When the knife reached Amara again, she stepped up to me.

Panic made my entire body tingle, tightening my throat.