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“Just tea and biscuits for now, dear,” she said with an apologetic smile. “Mrs. Mallory went home long ago, and I’ll have to look around the kitchen to see what I can make for you children.”
I nodded politely, but I was sure that with a little effort anyone could have heard my stomach begging, “Oh, do just send out for Chinese!”
They were already waiting for us in the Dragon Hall: Gideon’s uncle Falk, who always reminded me of a wolf, with his amber eyes and mane of gray hair; Dr. White in his eternal black suit; and, to my surprise, my English and history teacher, Mr. Whitman, also known as Mr. Squirrel. I immediately felt twice as uncomfortable and tugged nervously at the pale blue bow on my dress. Only this morning Mr. Whitman had caught my friend Lesley and me skipping a class and read us a lecture. And he’d confiscated all Lesley’s research work. So far we’d only had a strong suspicion that he belonged to the Inner Circle of the Guardians, but it was officially confirmed now.
“Ah, there you are, Gwyneth,” said Falk de Villiers, in a friendly tone but without smiling. He looked as if he could do with a shave, but maybe he was one of those men who shave in the morning and already look as if they have a three-day growth of beard by evening. Possibly it was just the dark shadow around his mouth, but he looked a lot tenser and more serious than yesterday, or even at midday. A nervous leader of the wolf pack.
However, Mr. Whitman gave me a wink. Dr. White muttered something incomprehensible in which all I could make out were the words women and punctuality.
The little fair-haired ghost boy Robert was standing beside Dr. White as usual. He was the only one who seemed glad to see me, because he gave me a beaming smile. Robert was Dr. White’s son, who had drowned at the age of seven in a swimming pool, and now, as a ghost, he stuck close to his father all the time. Of course, no one except for me could see him, and because Dr. White was always there too, I still hadn’t managed to have a proper conversation with Robert.
Gideon was leaning against one of the lavishly decorated walls. His gaze moved only briefly over me and then stopped at the biscuits on Mrs. Jenkins’s tray. With luck, his stomach was growling as loudly as mine.
Xemerius had slipped into the room ahead of me and was looking around appreciatively. “Wow,” he said. “This place is quite something!” He walked all around it once, admiring the elaborate carvings on the walls. I never tired of looking at them myself. I specially liked the mermaid swimming above the sofa. Every one of her scales was carved in detail, and her fins shimmered in all imaginable shades of blue and turquoise. But the hall owed its name to the gigantic dragon winding its way along the high ceiling between the chandeliers, looking as lifelike as if it might unfold its wings and fly away any moment.
At the sight of Xemerius, the little ghost boy widened his eyes in astonishment and hid behind Dr. White’s legs.
I would have liked to say, “He won’t hurt you. He only wants to play” (hoping that was true), but talking to a ghost about a demon when you’re in a room full of people who can’t see either of them is not to be recommended.
“I’ll just go and see whether I can find anything else to eat in the kitchen,” said Mrs. Jenkins.
“You ought to have gone home some time ago, Mrs. Jenkins,” said Falk de Villiers. “You’ve been doing too much overtime recently.”
“Yes, off you go home,” Dr. White snapped at her abruptly. “No one here’s going to starve to death.”
Oh, yes, they were! I was. And I felt sure that Gideon was thinking exactly the same. When our eyes met, he smiled.
“Biscuits are not what I’d call a healthy, well-balanced supper for children,” protested Mrs. Jenkins, but under her breath. Of course Gideon and I weren’t children anymore, but we could have done with a good meal all the same. A pity Mrs. Jenkins was the only one who shared my opinion, because unfortunately she didn’t have much say in the matter. At the door she almost collided with Mr. George, still out of breath and now also carrying two heavy leather-bound folio volumes.
“Ah, Mrs. Jenkins,” he said. “Thank you so much for the tea. Do lock up the office and go home now.”
Mrs. Jenkins made a disapproving face, but she only replied politely, “See you tomorrow morning.”
Mr. George closed the door behind her, with a loud snort, and put the thick books on the table. “Well, here I am. Now we can start. With only four members of the Inner Circle present, we don’t have the necessary quorum to make decisions, but we’ll be almost at full strength tomorrow. As we expected, Sinclair and Hawkins are not available, and they’ve both transferred their voting rights to me. Today we’re just concerned with establishing a rough plan of action.”
“We’d better sit down.” Falk pointed to the chairs standing around the table under the carved dragon, and we each took one of them.
Gideon hung his Edwardian coat over the back of his chair, opposite the place where I was sitting, and rolled up his shirtsleeves. “I’ll say it again: Gwyneth doesn’t have to be at this meeting. She’s tired and terrified. She should elapse, and then someone must take her home.”
And first someone should give her a pizza. With extra cheese.
“Don’t worry. Gwyneth will only be asked to give us a brief account of her impressions,” said Mr. George. “Then I’ll take her down to the chronograph myself.”
“I can’t say she appears to me particularly terrified,” muttered black-clad Dr. White. Robert, the little ghost boy, was standing behind the back of his chair and casting curious glances at the sofa, on which Xemerius was now lounging.
“What’s that thingy?” Robert asked me.
Of course I didn’t answer.
n let go of me. “Can you find the way up by yourself?”
“Of course,” I said, although I wasn’t absolutely sure whether I could rely on my sense of direction. This house had too many passages, flights of stairs, doors, and nooks and crannies.
“Great! We’re rid of that pest at last,” said the gargoyle. “Now you can tell me what’s going on.”
I waited until Gideon had disappeared around the next corner, then I opened the door of the ladies’ room and snapped at the gargoyle, “Okay, come on in here!”
“What?” The gargoyle was looking offended. “Into the ladies’ toilet? I kind of don’t think that would—”
