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themselves. It hardly matters now. However, what is interesting is that I found a Keltoi was related to one of the magistrates. The wizard was never accused and the families stayed close for years. Later, a descendant of the magistrate wrote a most interesting story. In his novel, he writes about a house built by a man who was persecuted for being a wizard. In reality, the house still stands today.”
    I finally realized where we were going.
    Vane continued, “The house is said to be haunted. Peculiar noises. Odd drafts. Ghosts… all knocking about inside a building with one of the most unusual architectures in the country. If I am correct, what is hidden there will never be found by a regular.”
    “I don’t understand,” I said.
    Matt explained, “A spell will last for centuries if it has a way to keep itself energized. In this case, by taking energy from any visitors to the house. The cold draft one feels is probably the spell draining them.” He gave Vane a shrewd look. “If you’ve figured out this much, you must have tried to open the message.”
    Vane glanced at me. “I have been a bit preoccupied.”
    Matt snorted. “You’re worried it will explode on you. If the spell has been around for so long, it will be volatile.”
    The smell of food hit our nostrils. A pub topped with the weathervane of a fat pig lit the wharf. Laughing people drank out of pints and snacked. Grey and Vane gave the place a longing look. I pinched Vane.
    Vane’s eyes turned to me, pupils still dilated from adrenaline. “Saucy girls get spanked.”
    In the dark, I blushed deep red. Matt let out a sound of disgust.
    Vane tore his eyes away. “The gargoyles know about it, but I wager they have not figured out how to unlock it.”
    We passed the pub and the scene changed. Even in the shadows, the quaint street of pristine trees and shrubs looked deceptively serene. It led up to a tall, grey mansion with large, withered elm trees guarding the front. Open sky and the sound of endless water served as the backdrop to the battered-looking house. The home should have beckoned us forward, but we stood unmoving at its entrance. Wind screamed across the snow-decorated lawn and whistled through the large garden half-hidden at in the rear.
    A light flickered high up in the third story of the square-paned dormer windows where nothing but darkness should have been. I blinked and the light disappeared.
    We’d come to the only true haunted place in Salem—the House of the Seven Gables.
    ***
    Grey made a face. “You really want to go in there?”
    The seven pointed gables, wooden triangles crowned with finials, stood aloft like lonely beacons at various points spread out over the roof. Three thick, brick chimneys protruded from behind the gables. Snow sat in the crevices of the roof. A path had been cleared to the framed entrance with cranberry glass sidelights. The house had been built sometime in the late 1600s, just before the witch trials, and the air around it still evoked the turbulence of that time.
    We all jumped when a loud crash sounded from inside.
    Vane hoisted his sword. “Gargoyles.”
    We trod through snow up the short walkway to the entrance. Outside, a sign told us tours had ended hours ago. Garlands trimmed with red holly lined the doors and windows. Christmas was over long ago, but it was nice to see a bit of festivity left over. By now, most everyone’s cheer had been bled away by the dreary relentlessness of winter.
    Vane started to march up to the entrance.
    Matt stopped him. “We should split up.”
    “I’ll take the front,” Vane said.
    “I’ll go with you,” Grey volunteered.
    “If there’s a garden, there’s a backdoor,” Matt said to the guardians.
    The three guardians nodded and hurried away. To the right of the entrance, just off the sidewalk, a small door stood. Matt motioned me toward it. “We’ll go this way. It’s more likely to be empty.”
    I made a face. “I can take care of myself.”
    “I’ve