He lets go of the duffel, and it tugs him towards a door at the back of the foyer. Baz opens it, and the rest of us follow him into an abandoned hallway. We hear more footsteps … somewhere. I nudge him to move faster.

“Philippa?” Simon calls, more boldly.

“Hush,” Baz says.

“Why?”

“Because we’re trespassing now. If they wanted to let us in, they would have answered the door.”

“Well, they’ve already heard us.”

“Hush, Snow.”

The duffel bag leads us past closed rooms and empty hallways, up to a wide swinging door. Baz has his wand out. I hold up my gem and push Shepard behind me.

Baz shoves the door open, and we both rush through, ready to cast.

We find ourselves in a big institutional kitchen—long wooden tables, ancient brown wallpaper, tiled floor. The room is empty, but there’s a kettle heating on the stove. Baz lurches forward, the strap of his bag pulling at his neck. He leans over, trying to get his arms around it again.

“Are you okay?” Simon asks.

“I’m fine, Snow.”

Shepard leans closer to me and whispers, “Is that Def Leppard?”

“What’s deaf leopard?” I whisper back.

“Listen.”

There’s music playing. Somewhere close.

“Ungh.” Baz is struggling with the duffel now, scrabbling to get the strap off from around his neck. The bag looks like it’s trying to pin him to the floor.

“Nicks and Slick!” I say, holding out my fist.

“I’ve got it,” Simon says, grabbing the strap from behind.

“It’s trying to get—” Baz drops to his knees. Simon is standing over him, pulling the strap with both hands away from the back of Baz’s neck. The bag thumps to the floor, and the strap sags enough for Baz to slip free.

We all stare at it.

“The basement!” Shepard says. “There must be a—”

Right, of course.

It takes both Baz and Simon to lift the duffel bag off the floor. Baz wraps both arms around it and rushes back through the swinging door. “Come on!”

We run out of the kitchen, trying every door in the hallway. Some of them are locked. “Any of these could lead to stairs,” I say.

“Here!” Simon’s already at the end of the hall, shaking a door by its knob. “Listen. It’s that music—”

“‘Pour Some Sugar on Me,’” Shepard says.

I frown at him. “What?”

“Come on, Penny,” Simon says, rattling the door. “‘Open Sesame!’”

I catch up with him and hold out my fist. “Open Sesame!” The door swings open in Simon’s hand. The music gets louder. It is a stairwell.

“Me first,” I say. “I have magic.”

“So?” Simon says, running ahead of me down the stairs.

“Simon!”