“We’ll let her go once we’re out in the street,” said Gideon. “But if anyone up here moves before then, she’s dead. Come on, Gwyneth. They’ll have to try to get at your blood some other time.”

I hesitated. “Maybe they really do just want to talk,” I said. I felt enormously interested in what Lucy and Paul had to say. On the other hand, if they were really as harmless as they made out, why those bodyguards posted in the rooms? With guns? I remembered the men in the park.

“I’m certain they don’t just want to talk,” said Gideon.

“There’s no point,” said Paul. “They’ve brainwashed him.”

“It’s the count,” said Lucy. “He can be very convincing, as you know.”

“We’ll be seeing each other again,” said Gideon. We had now reached the top of the stairs.

“Is that meant to be a threat?” asked Paul. “We’ll be ‘seeing’ each other again? We most certainly will!”

Gideon kept the pistol aimed at the back of Lucy’s head until we had reached the front door.

I expected Frank to race out of the other room, but nothing stirred. There was no sign of my great-great-grandmother either.

“You can’t allow the Circle to be closed,” said Lucy urgently. “And you must never visit the count in the past again. Gwyneth in particular must never meet him!”

“Don’t listen to her!” Gideon had to let go of me to open the front door with one hand while still keeping the pistol aimed at Lucy with the other. He looked out into the street. I could hear voices on the floor above. Anxiously, I looked up the stairs. There were three men and a pistol up there, and up there was where we wanted them to stay.

“I’ve met him already,” I told Lucy. “Yesterday—”

“Oh, no!” Lucy’s face turned a shade paler. “Does he know your magic?”

“What magic?”

“The magic of the raven,” said Lucy.

“The magic of the raven is just a myth.” Gideon took my arm and led me down the steps and out into the street. There was no sign of our cab.

“That’s not true, and the count knows it.”

Gideon was still pointing the pistol at Lucy’s head, but now he looked back up to the first floor. Very likely Frank was standing there with his pistol. We were still under cover of the porch roof.

“Wait,” I told Gideon. I looked at Lucy. There were tears in her large blue eyes, and for some reason I found it hard not to believe her.

“What makes you so sure she’s not telling the truth, Gideon?” I asked quietly.

He looked at me for a moment, taken off balance. His eyes flickered. “I just am,” he whispered.

“That doesn’t sound so sure,” said Lucy. Her voice was gentle. “You two can trust us.”

Could we really? Then why had they done the impossible and trapped us here?

I saw the shadow only out of the corner of my eye.

“Watch out!” I shouted. Stillman was already coming down. Gideon spun round at the last moment as the hefty butler swung his fist back to strike.

“No, Stillman!” That was Paul’s voice from the stairs.

“Run!” shouted Gideon, and I made a split-second decision.

I ran as fast as I could in my little buttoned boots. I expected to hear a shot with every step I took.

“Talk to Grandfather!” Lucy called after me. “Ask him about the Green Rider!”

* * *

GIDEON DIDN’T CATCH UP with me until I reached the next corner. “Thanks!” he gasped, putting the pistol away again. “If you hadn’t given me the heads-up, it would have been a close call. This way.”

I looked round. “Are we being followed?”

“I don’t think so,” said Gideon. “But we’d better hurry, just in case we are.”

“Where did that man Stillman come from? I had my eye on the stairs the whole time.”

“There’s probably another staircase in the house. I didn’t think of that either.”

“Where did the Guardian with the cab go? He was supposed to be waiting for us.”

“No idea,” said Gideon.

I was getting a stitch in my side. I wouldn’t be able to keep this speed up much longer. Gideon turned into a narrower side street and finally stopped outside a church porch.

HOLY TRINITY said the notice board outside.

“What are we going to do here?” I gasped.

“Make our confession,” said Gideon. He looked around before opening the heavy door, then he pushed me into the dimly lit interior and closed the door again.

We were immediately surrounded by peace and quiet, the smell of incense, and that solemn feeling you get the moment you step inside a church.

It was a pretty church, with colored stained glass windows, pale sandstone walls, and little tea lights flickering, each of them a prayer or a good wish.

Gideon led me down one of the aisles to an old-fashioned confessional, drew the curtain aside, and pointed to the seat inside the little cubbyhole.

“You can’t be serious,” I whispered.

“Yes, I can. I’ll sit on the other side, and we’ll just wait here until we travel back.”

Puzzled, I dropped onto the seat. Gideon drew the curtain in front of my nose. A moment later, the little barred peephole between me and the other seat was pushed aside. “Comfortable?”

I was getting my breath back, and my eyes were adjusting to the dim light.

Gideon was looking at me with an air of great solemnity. “Well, my daughter, let us thank the Lord for the shelter of his house.”

I stared at him. How could he be so casual, almost exuberant? For goodness’ sake, he’d held a pistol to my cousin’s head! It couldn’t just have left him cold.

“How can you make jokes now?”

Suddenly he looked embarrassed. He shrugged. “Can you think of a better way to pass the time?”

“Yes! We could try making sense of what just happened! Why do Lucy and Paul say someone’s brainwashed you?”

“How would I know?” He ran his fingers through his hair, and I saw that his hand was shaking slightly. Not so cool as he made out after all, then. “They’re trying to make you uncertain. Me too.”

“Lucy told me to ask my grandfather. She probably doesn’t know he’s dead.” I thought of the tears in Lucy’s eyes. “Poor thing. It must be terrible never to be able to see any of your family again because they’re in the future.”

Gideon did not reply. For a while we said nothing. I looked out through a gap in the curtain at the chancel of the church. A little gargoyle, about knee-high to a human, hopped out of the shadows and looked at us. I quickly looked away. If he noticed I could see him, he was sure to make a nuisance of himself. Gargoyle ghosts can really be pests. I knew that from experience.

“Are you sure you can trust Count Saint-Germain?” I asked as the gargoyle hopped closer.

Gideon took a deep breath. “He’s a genius. He’s discovered things that no one before him … yes, I trust him. Whatever Lucy and Paul think, they’re on the wrong track.” He sighed. “At least, I was still perfectly sure until a little while ago. It all seemed so logical.”

Obviously the little gargoyle thought we were boring. He climbed a pillar and disappeared into the organ loft.

“And now it isn’t anymore?”

“I only know that I had everything under control until you came along,” said Gideon.

“Oh, are you holding me responsible because for the first time in your life, not everyone’s dancing to your tune?” I raised my eyebrows, just as I’d seen him do. It felt good. I almost grinned, I was so proud of myself.

“No.” He shook his head and groaned. “Gwyneth, why is everything so much more complicated with you than with Charlotte?” He leaned forward, and there was something in his eyes that I’d never seen there before.

“Was that what you were discussing with her in the school yard today?” I asked, feeling slightly jealous.

Damn. Now I’d given him an opening. A beginner’s mistake!

“Jealous?” he promptly asked, with a broad grin.

“Not in the least!”

“Charlotte always did as I said. You don’t. Which is a real pain. But kind of amusing too. And sweet.” This time it wasn’t just his look that made me feel confused.

Embarrassed, I pushed a strand of hair back from my face. My stupid hairstyle had come entirely undone during our dash. There was probably a trail of hairpins from Eaton Place to the door of this church.

“Why don’t we go back to the Temple?”

“It’s cozy here. If we go back to the Temple, there’ll be more endless discussions. And to be honest, I can do with a change from being ordered about by Uncle Falk.”

Aha! My move now. “Not a good feeling, is it?”

He shook his head. “No, not really.”

I heard sounds in the nave outside. I jumped, and peered through the curtain. But it was only an old lady lighting a candle. “Suppose we travel back in the next second? I don’t want to land on the lap of some child from a confirmation class. And I can’t imagine that the parish priest would be thrilled.”

“Don’t worry.” Gideon laughed quietly. “There’s never anyone in this confessional in our own time. Father Jacobs calls it the lift to the underworld. He’s a member of the Lodge, of course.”

“How much longer until we go back, then?”

Gideon looked at his watch. “We still have a bit of time.”

“Then we might as well use it sensibly.” I giggled. “Weren’t you going to make your confession, my son?” It just slipped out, and it took a moment for me to realize what I was doing.

I was sitting with Gideon in a church confessional about a hundred years in the past, flirting with him for all I was worth! Good heavens! Why hadn’t Lesley given me a folder full of instructions for that?

“Only if you’re going to tell me about your own sins too.”

“I’m sure you’d like that.” I quickly changed the subject. We were definitely on thin ice here. “You were right about the trap, by the way. But how could Paul and Lucy know that we’d be there today and not some other time?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” said Gideon, suddenly leaning so far toward me that our noses were only an inch or so apart. His eyes looked dark in the twilight of the church. “But maybe you do.”

I blinked at him. That unsettled me—in two ways: first because I could make nothing of that remark, and second because he was so close. “Me?”

“You could be the one who told Lucy and Paul about our meeting.”

“What?” I must be looking totally stupid. “What nonsense! When do you suppose I could have done that? I don’t even know where the chronograph is kept. And I’d never let anyone—” I stopped before I could say anything else silly.

“Gwyneth, you have no idea what you may do later on.”