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“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.
