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“Hey, we haven’t finished,” said Gideon. “That was very good, yes, but not perfect yet. What’s the idea of giving me such a dark look all of a sudden?”

“Why do you think Count Saint-Germain is so keen for me to go to a soirée and a ball? After all, he could just tell me to be here in the Temple, and then I wouldn’t risk making an idiot of myself in front of strangers. No one would have to wonder about me and maybe leave an account of my odd behavior for posterity.”

Gideon looked down at me for a little while before answering. “The count likes to keep his cards close to his chest, but there’s a brilliant plan behind every single one of his ideas. He has a definite suspicion about those men who attacked us in Hyde Park, and I think he wants to lure whoever was behind it out into the open by taking us both to large society events.”

“Oh,” I said. “You mean we’re going to have men with swords after us again?”

“Not while we’re in company,” said Gideon. He perched on the arm of the sofa and crossed his arms over his chest. “All the same, I do think it’s too dangerous—for you, anyway.”

I leaned against the table. “Didn’t you suspect that Lucy and Paul were mixed up with the attack in Hyde Park?”

“Yes and no,” said Gideon. “A man like Count Saint-Germain makes quite a few enemies in the course of his life. There are several accounts of assassination attempts on him in the Annals. I only suspect that for their own ends Lucy and Paul may have joined forces with one of those enemies of his. Or several of them.”

“Does the count think so too?”

Gideon shrugged his shoulders. “I hope so.”

I thought about this for a while. “I’m in favor of breaking the rules again. Take one of those James Bond pistols with you,” I suggested. “That would show those characters with their swords something! Where did you get it from, by the way? I’d feel better myself if I had a thing like that.”

“A weapon can usually be turned against you, if you don’t know how to use it,” said Gideon.

I thought of my Japanese vegetable knife. Not a nice idea to think of it being turned against me.

“Is Charlotte good at fencing? And can she use a pistol?”

Another shrug of his shoulders. “She’s had fencing lessons since she was twelve—of course she’s good.”

Of course. Charlotte was good at everything. Except being nice. “I’m sure the count would have liked her,” I said. “I obviously wasn’t his type.”

Gideon laughed. “Well, you can still revise his idea of you. The main reason why he wants to know you better is to see whether the prophesies may be right in what they say about you after all.”

“The magic of the raven and so on?” I felt uncomfortable. I always did when anyone talked about that. “Do the prophesies also say what it is?”

Gideon hesitated for a moment, and then said softly, “The raven red, on ruby pinions winging its way between the worlds, hears dead men singing. It scarce knows its strength, the price it scarce knows, but its power will arise and the Circle will close.” He cleared his throat. “You’ve come out in goose bumps.”

“It sounds so eerie. Specially the bit about the dead men singing.” I rubbed my arms. “Does it go on?”

“No, that’s more or less all. You have to admit it doesn’t sound much like you.”

He was probably right there. “Is there something about you in the prophesies as well?”

“Of course,” said Gideon. “There’s a prophesy about each of the time travelers. I’m the lion with the diamond mane at the sight of which the sun…” For a moment, he suddenly seemed embarrassed. Then he went on, grinning, “Blah blah blah. Oh, and your great-great-grandmother, our stubborn friend Lady Tilney, is a fox. Very suitable. A jade fox hiding under a linden tree.”

o;Yes, definitely more comfortable than on my last visit,” I said. “I was scared a rat might come out and nibble me all the time then.”

Gideon tried the handle of the door and rattled it once. It was obviously locked.

“Just once this door was left open,” he said with a grin. “That was a really good evening. From here there’s a secret passage down to underneath the Royal Courts of Justice. It goes on even deeper, into catacombs with bones and skulls … and not far from here, there’s a wine cellar. At least, there is in 1953.”

“We need a key.” I looked surreptitiously at the wall again. Somewhere behind a loose brick, there was a key. I sighed. What a shame that it was no use to me now. But it was also kind of a good feeling to know something when, for once, Gideon had no idea of it. “Did you drink any of the wine?”

“What do you think?” Gideon took one of the chairs from the stack by the wall and put it down at the table. “Here you are, all yours. Have fun with the homework.”

“Oh. Thanks.” I sat down, took my things out of my bag, and pretended to be immersed in a book. Meanwhile Gideon stretched out on the sofa, took an iPod out of his jeans pocket, and put the earphones in his ears. After a couple of minutes, I risked glancing at him and saw that his eyes were closed. Had he gone to sleep? No wonder, really, when you stopped to think that he’d been time traveling again last night.

I lost myself for a while in looking at his long, straight nose, pale skin, soft lips, and those thick, curving eyelashes. Relaxed like that, he seemed much younger than usual, and suddenly I could imagine what he must have looked like as a little boy. Very cute, anyway. His chest was rising and falling regularly, and I wondered if I might venture to—no, too dangerous. And I mustn’t look at that wall anymore, not if I wanted to keep the secret I shared with Lucas.

Since there was nothing else to do, and I could hardly spend four whole hours watching Gideon asleep (although the idea did have its good points), I finally devoted myself to my homework, first the mineral resources of the Caucasus, then irregular French verbs. The essay on Shakespeare’s life and work only needed some kind of conclusion. I made a determined effort and summed it up in a single sentence: Shakespeare spent the last five years of his life in Stratford-upon-Avon, where he died in 1616. There, done it. Now all I had to do was learn a sonnet by heart. As they were all the same length, I picked one at random. “Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war, how to divide the conquest of thy sight,” I murmured.

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