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“GWENNY! GWENNY, wake up!”
With difficulty, I struggled up from the depths of my dream. In the dream I’d been an ancient, hunchbacked old woman sitting opposite Gideon, who was looking terrific, and claiming that my name was Gwyneth Shepherd and I came from the year 2080. Now I looked into the familiar, snub-nosed face of my little sister, Caroline.
“At last!” she said. “I thought I’d never get you to wake up. I was asleep when you came in yesterday evening, though I tried so hard to stay awake. Have you brought one of those gorgeous dresses back again?”
“Not this time.” I sat up. “I was able to change when I got there.”
“Is it always going to be like this? You not coming home until I’m asleep? Mum has been so odd since this happened to you. And Nick and I miss you. Suppers don’t seem right when you’re not there.”
“They didn’t seem right before,” I reassured her, dropping back on the pillow.
A limousine had brought me back yesterday evening. I didn’t know the chauffeur, but redheaded Mr. Marley had come all the way to the front door of our house with me.
I hadn’t seen Gideon again, and just as well. It was quite enough to dream of him all night.
My grandmother’s butler, Mr. Bernard, had let me in, polite and otherwise totally impassive, as ever. My mum had come downstairs to welcome me home, hugging me as tightly as if I’d just come back from an expedition to the South Pole. I was glad to see her, too, although I was still rather cross with her. It was so odd, finding out that your own mother had been lying to you. And she still wouldn’t tell me why. Apart from a few cryptic remarks—trust no one … dangerous … secret … blah blah blah—she hadn’t told me anything to explain her behavior. So what with that and the fact that I was just about dying of exhaustion, I’d simply eaten a small piece of roast chicken and then fallen into bed without telling Mum about the day’s events. And what exactly was she going to do with the information? She worried far too much anyway. I thought she looked almost as exhausted as me.
Caroline shook my arm again. “Hey, don’t go back to sleep!”
“Okay.” I swung my feet over the edge of the bed and realized that, in spite of my long phone call to Lesley before I went to sleep, I did feel fairly well rested. But where was Xemerius? He’d disappeared when I went into the bathroom last night, and I hadn’t seen him since.
Under the shower, I finally washed my hair, using Mum’s expensive shampoo, which wasn’t really allowed, and some of her conditioner as well, even at the risk of being given away by the wonderful scent of roses and grapefruit. As I rubbed my head dry, I instinctively wondered whether Gideon liked roses and grapefruit and then called myself sternly to order.
I’d hardly had a couple of hours’ sleep, and here I was thinking of him again! And just what was so great about what had happened anyway? We’d done a bit of necking in the confessional, but right after that, he’d gone back to being his old insufferable self, and my fall from cloud nine was not something I wanted to remember, whether or not I’d had enough sleep. As I’d told Lesley when she wouldn’t drop the subject last night.
I blow-dried my hair, got dressed, and went down all the flights of stairs to the dining room. Caroline, Nick, Mum, and I lived on the third floor of our house. Unlike the rest of the place, which had been in my family’s hands since the beginning of time (or even longer), it was at least reasonably comfortable.
The rest of the house was stuffed with antique furniture and pictures of assorted ancestors, few of whom were exactly a sight for sore eyes. And we had a ballroom where I had helped Nick learn how to ride a bike—in secret, of course, but these days traffic in central London was terribly dangerous, as everyone knew.
As so often, I wished Mum and the three of us could eat up on the third floor, where we had our own rooms, but my grandmother, Lady Arista, insisted on all of us meeting at mealtimes in the gloomy dining room. Its paneling was the color of milk chocolate; at least, that was the only nice comparison I’d ever thought of. The others were less appetizing.
Today the atmosphere was distinctly better than the day before, as I noticed the moment I came into the room. Well, that was something, anyway.
Lady Arista, who always seemed rather like a ballet teacher about to rap you over the knuckles, said “good morning” in friendly tones, and Charlotte and her mother smiled at me as if they knew something and I hadn’t the faintest idea of it.
Since Aunt Glenda never normally smiled at anyone (unless you count a sort of sour lift at the corners of her mouth), and Charlotte had said some horrible things to me only yesterday, I immediately felt suspicious.
“Has something happened?” I asked.
My twelve-year-old brother Nick grinned at me as I sat down beside Caroline, and Mum pushed a huge plateful of scrambled egg on toast over to me. I almost fainted away with hunger as the delicious smell rose to my nostrils.
“Oh, my goodness,” said Aunt Glenda. “I suppose you want your daughter consuming a whole month’s supply of fat and cholesterol in a single day, do you, Grace?”
“That’s right,” said Mum, unfazed.
“She’ll hate you later for not taking better care of her figure,” said Aunt Glenda, smiling again.
“Gwyneth’s figure is faultless,” said Mum.
“For now—maybe,” said Aunt Glenda. She was still smiling.
“Did you two put something in Aunt Glenda’s tea?” I asked Caroline in a whisper.
“Someone phoned a few minutes ago, and ever since then Aunt Glenda and Charlotte have been on top of the world,” Caroline whispered back. “You’d think someone had cast a magic spell over them.”
At that moment, Xemerius landed on the windowsill outside, folded his wings, and came in through the glass of the windowpane.
“Good morning,” I said cheerfully.
