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No one stopped the kids as they moved to the second floor of the orphanage. From the staircase, they accessed the forbidden wing using Prost’s keys. Standing in an unexplored hallway, they were deciding which of the two new doors to go through first when they were interrupted. A bang sounded from one of the rooms, followed by shouting. Their geister warned them of what they were already aware: a ghost had created this spectacle, it demanded their audience. They obliged in fear of further outbursts. Finally, the Sin-Eaters discovered some clues explaining oddities abound; the office of Captain Mauree Night was a veritable trove.

A wooden desk dominated the room. On the surface was a name plate that proved ownership in bronze. Further inspection revealed that these were the only ordinary things the Captain kept in his office. The more they saw the more insane this man seemed; a dagger pinned a letter to the desk in front of a chair that had been treated much worse, its cottony guts bursted out. Other puzzles decorated shelves between collections of books with unreadable titles. Trophies and medals glimmered boastfully of Night’s wartime heroics, as did framed articles, including one that named him director of the orphanage (after a considerable donation). Things were adding up to unholy sums. The photograph that shocked the children the most depicted Night with his arms crossed, grinning in front of a biplane. Percy recognized him past the uniform, beyond the horrible contrast between living and dead, he was the only kid to (almost) survive Captain Midnight’s crash.

No less appalling was the missive on his desk: Night’s expulsion from the compound was voted on by some board over unspecified allegations. Different handwriting insulted Mauree, What rotten luck! And it appears rain has turned to downpour! The beasts you thought no one knew you kept in the hanger some how were poisoned dead. Here’s a ray of sunshine in your storm cloud – I went to the trouble of having them burned. When you’re sick of retirement (you’re welcome) consider putting a little spark in your life by lighting yourself on fire. There were no signatures.

Finally, Georgie got his sticky fingers on a book titled Gran Panacea. It was written in church language but scribbles in English cluttered the margins, describing young blood as a means to enhance longevity.

He closed the book; he had seen enough.

There were more things to see in the condemned wing of the orphanage. The other door in the hallway connected to a corridor that ended, after what seemed like a mile, in an Avernian gate. Two entrances to the underworld in one building was not a coincidence. Dark arts were responsible. Examining the door, Czeslaw fell sick with a familiar sense of vertigo; he knew what waited behind, it was Captain Midnight’s nightmare. Czeslaw remembered dying there, his wounds fresh and flaring at the thought. They decided to leave this gate alone, too. It wasn’t worth the tremendous energy it took just to open it.

The group had enough of the off-limits zone, but they weren’t finished investigating Captain Midnight. On the way out of the orphanage they bumped into the janitor, Garfield Benson. The children quizzed him on what he knew about Mauree Night; he tried to avoid the matter but eventually revealed that the famed hangar was a quick drive from the compound.

They didn’t need a car because the orphans knew a faster way. If someone or something had opened more than one gate in one building, then it was safe to assume that other places on the property had gates and were connected via the Underworld. If this were true, then the boys could ascertain a necromancer of incredible power was hiding in the shadows of the complex.

As they passed the cafeteria on their way to the basement they noticed the cook was missing. Orphans waited at the tables as other adults scrambled in the kitchen. It made easy work of slipping into the basement unnoticed.

Bypassing the Avernian gate required expiation. Their blood offering glistened rich as rubies in the dim of Teddy’s lantern. Drips of treasure pounded down on the tiled floor; the gears in the responded, grinding and turning like thunder in the quiet, and the door opened inches without further ceremony. No one was behind it. The boys stood there, peering into the darkness that was anticipating them. Percy lead Georgie and Czeslaw past the threshold into the abyss whereupon the door they entered through vanished. The Underworld swallowed them whole.