“Why do you want to help us?” asked Nick bluntly, getting in ahead of me with that question.

“Because I’m good with a hammer and chisel,” said Mr. Bernard. And he added, even more quietly, “And because your grandfather, unfortunately, can’t be here to help Miss Gwyneth.”

Suddenly I felt it hard to breathe again, and I had to fight back tears. “Thanks,” I murmured.

“Don’t get hopeful too soon. I’m afraid that the key to the chest has … has been lost. And I really don’t know that I can bring myself to take a sledgehammer to such a beautiful and valuable antique,” said Mr. Bernard, sighing.

“Meaning you’re not going to tell our mum and Lady Arista anything?” asked Nick.

“Not if you go to bed now.” I saw Mr. Bernard’s teeth flash in the darkness again before he turned and went back up the steps. “Good night, and try to get some sleep.”

“Good night, Mr. Bernard,” Nick and I murmured.

“The old villain!” said Xemerius. “He needn’t think I’m letting him out of my sight.”

The Circle of Blood its perfection will find,

The philosopher’s stone shall eternity bind.

New strength will arise in the young at that hour,

Making one man immortal, for he holds the power.

But beware: when the twelfth star shows its own force,

His life here on earth runs its natural course.

And if youth is destroyed, then the oak tree will stand

To the end of all time, rooted fast in the land.

As the star dies, the eagle arises supreme,

Fulfilling his ancient and magical dream.

For a star goes out in the sky above,

If it freely chooses to die for love.

FROM THE SECRET WRITINGS OF COUNT SAINT-GERMAIN

TWO

“WELL?” CYNTHIA DALE, who was in our class at school, had planted herself in front of us with her hands on her hips, elbows pointing out, thus barring our way up to the first floor. Other students, who had to push past to the right or left of us, were complaining of the traffic jam. Cynthia was twisting the ugly tie that was part of the St. Lennox High School uniform in her fingers, and she had a stern expression on her face. “What are your costumes going to be like?” It would be her birthday at the weekend, and she’d asked us to the costume party she gave every year.

She was getting on our nerves. Lesley shook her head. “Did you know you’re nuttier all the time these days, Cyn? I mean, you were nuts to begin with, but it’s been getting worse and worse. People don’t go about asking their guests what they’re wearing to a costume party!”

“Exactly. Unless you want to have a party all on your own,” I said, trying to squeeze past Cynthia to one side. But her hand came out, quick as lightning, and grabbed my arm.

“I think up such fascinating themes for my costume parties, but there are always spoilsports who don’t stick to the rules,” she said. “Remember the Carnival of Animals party, and some people turned up with a feather in their hair and said they were in chicken costume? Yes, you may well look guilty, Gwenny! I know just whose idea that was.”

“Not everyone has a mum whose hobby is making papier mâché elephant masks,” said Lesley. Feeling cross, I just muttered, “Let us by!” I didn’t bother to say how little Cynthia’s party mattered to me right now, but I expect anyone could see that from my face anyway.

The grip on my arm only tightened. “And then there was Barbie’s Beach Party.” An obvious shudder ran down Cynthia’s spine at the thought of that one—for very good reasons, by the way. She took a deep breath. “This time I want to make sure. ‘Greensleeves Was My Delight’ is a wonderful theme, and I’m not having anyone spoil the party this time. Just so as you know, green nail varnish or a green scarf won’t do.”

“Would you let me pass if I gave you a black eye?” I snapped. “It’s sure to be fading to green by the time you throw your party.”

Cynthia made out she hadn’t heard me. “I’m coming as a flower girl in a green dress with a basket full of green posies. Sarah is coming as a green pepper. She says her costume is brilliant, but I don’t know any more about it yet, because she suddenly had to go to the toilet. Gordon is coming as a field of daisies. He’ll be in artificial turf all over.”

“Cyn…” There was just no getting past her.

“And Charlotte is having a costume specially made by a dressmaker, but it’s still a secret. Isn’t that right, Charlotte?”

My cousin Charlotte, jammed in between a lot of other students, tried to stop, but she had to go with the flow climbing up the stairs. “It’s not all that difficult to guess,” she told us in passing. “I’ll just say tulle in seven different shades of green. And it looks like I’ll be coming with King Oberon.” She called that last remark back over her shoulder. And she was looking at me with a funny sort of smile, the same as at breakfast, when I’d felt like throwing a tomato at her.

“Good for Charlotte,” said Cynthia, pleased. “Coming in green and bringing a boy. That’s the kind of guest I like.”

Surely the boy Charlotte was bringing wouldn’t be … no, impossible. Gideon would never stick on pointy ears. Or would he? I watched Charlotte moving through the crowd like a queen. She had done her glossy red hair in a kind of braided retro style, and the girls from the younger classes were all looking at her with that mixture of dislike and admiration that comes only from genuine envy. There’d probably be cute braided hairstyles all over the school yard tomorrow.

“So what are you two coming as, and who are you bringing?” asked Cynthia.

“We’re coming as little green men from Mars, O best party hostess of all time,” said Lesley, with a sigh of resignation. “And you’ll have to wait and see who we’re bringing. It’s a surprise.”

“Okay, then.” Cynthia let go of my arm. “Little green men from Mars. Not exactly attractive, but original. Don’t you dare change your minds.” Without saying good-bye, she homed in on her next victim. “Katie! Hi! Stop right there. About my party!”

“Little green men from Mars?” I repeated as I looked automatically at the niche where James, the school ghost, usually stood. This morning it was empty.

“We had to shake her off somehow or other,” said Lesley. “Her party! Who wants to bother with that kind of thing?”

“Did I hear something about a party? I’ll be there!” Gideon’s brother Raphael had emerged behind us, and made his way in between us with a confident look, taking my arm and putting his other arm around Lesley’s waist. He’d done his tie up in a very peculiar way. Well, strictly speaking, he’d just tied a double knot in it. “And there was I thinking you Brits don’t have much to celebrate! Closing time in the pubs and all that.”

Lesley shook free of him. “I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you. Cynthia’s annual costume party isn’t the sort of party you’d enjoy. Unless you like the kind where parents keep a beady eye on the buffet to make sure no one mixes anything alcoholic into the drinks or tips over the dessert.”

“Yes, Cynthia’s mum and dad do that, but they always try playing funny games with us,” I defended them. “And they’re usually the only ones who dance.” I glanced at Raphael sideways, and quickly looked away again because his profile was so like his brother’s. “To be honest, I’m surprised Cyn hasn’t invited you yet.”

“She did.” Raphael sighed. “I said I was afraid I had another engagement. I hate themed parties where you have to dress up. But if I’d known you two were going…”

I was about to offer to tie his tie properly for him (the school rules were pretty strict about that), when he put his arm around Lesley’s waist again and said cheerfully, “Did you tell Gwyneth that we tracked down the location of the treasure in your mystery game? Has she found it yet?”

“Yes,” said Lesley briefly. I noticed that she didn’t shake herself free this time.

“So how’s the game getting along, mignonne?”

“It’s not really a—” I began, but Lesley interrupted me.

“I’m sorry, Raphael, but you can’t play anymore,” she said coolly.

“What? Oh, come on, I don’t think that’s fair!”

I didn’t think it was fair, either. After all, we weren’t playing a game for poor Raphael to be kept out of, and he’d been a help so far. “Lesley only means that—”

Lesley interrupted me again. “Life isn’t fair,” she said, if possible even more coolly. “You have your brother to thank for that. As I’m sure you know, we’re on different sides in what you call the game. And we can’t risk you passing on information to Gideon. Who, by the way, is an absolute bas—not a particularly pleasant person.”

“Lesley!” Was she out of her mind?

“What? This treasure hunt has something to do with my brother and the time-traveling business?” Raphael had let go of Lesley and was standing there as if rooted to the ground. “So what’s he supposed to have done to you two?”

“Don’t act so surprised!” said Lesley. “I’m sure you and Gideon talk everything over together.” She winked at me, but I could only stare back, baffled.

“No, we don’t!” cried Raphael. “We spend hardly any time together. Gideon is always off somewhere on secret missions. And if he does happen to be at home, he’s brooding over mysterious documents or staring into the depths of space. Or, even worse, Charlotte turns up and gets on my nerves.” He looked so unhappy that I’d have liked to put my arms around him, particularly when he added quietly, “I thought we were friends. Yesterday afternoon I felt sure we were going to get on really well together.”

Lesley—or perhaps I’d better call her my friend the fridge—just shrugged her shoulders. “Yes, yesterday was nice. But let’s be honest. We hardly know each other at all. You can’t talk about friendship right away.”

“So you were only making use of me to find out those coordinates,” said Raphael, looking hard at Lesley, probably hoping she’d contradict him.

“Like I said, life isn’t always fair.” That was obviously the end of it so far as Lesley was concerned. She made me walk on. “Gwen, we have to hurry,” she said. “Mrs. Counter’s handing out the essay subjects today. And I don’t want to be landed with research into the extent of the eastern delta of the river Ganges.”

I glanced back at Raphael, who was looking rather stunned. He tried to put his hands in his trouser pockets, only to find out that there weren’t any in the school uniform.

“Oh, Lesley, do look at him!” I said.

“Or into ethnic groups with names I can’t pronounce!”

I grabbed her arm the way Cynthia had grabbed mine just now. “What’s the matter?” I whispered. “A proper little ray of sunshine, aren’t you? Why do you have to go for Raphael like that? Is this part of some plan that I don’t know about?”