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We made our way up from the chronograph room in silence, and then Mr. George took off the blindfold. He looked at me very seriously. “You can do it, Gwyneth. I firmly believe in you and your abilities.”
His round face was covered with little beads of perspiration again. I saw nothing but concern for me in his bright eyes—it was the same with my mother when she looked at me. A huge wave of affection swept over me.
“Here’s your signet ring,” I said. “How old are you, Mr. George? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Seventy-six,” said Mr. George. “It’s no secret.”
I stared at him. Although I’d never thought of it before, I’d have guessed he was a good ten years younger. “Then in 1956 you were…?”
“Twenty-one. That was the year when I began work as a legal clerk in the chambers here and became a member of the Lodge.”
“Do you know Violet Purpleplum, Mr. George? She’s a friend of my great-aunt’s.”
Mr. George raised one eyebrow. “No, I don’t think I do. Come along, I’ll take you to your car. I’m sure your mother will be anxious to see you.”
“Yes, I think so, too. Mr. George…?”
But Mr. George had already turned to move away. I had no option but to follow him. “You’ll be collected from home tomorrow,” he said. “Madame Rossini needs you for a fitting, and after that Giordano will try teaching you a few things. And after that, you’ll have to elapse.”
“Sounds like a wonderful day,” I said wearily.
* * *
“BUT THAT … that’s not magic!” I whispered, shocked.
Lesley sighed. “Not in the sense of hocus-pocus magical rituals, maybe, but it’s a magical ability. The magic of the raven.”
“More of an eccentricity, if you ask me,” I said. “Something that makes people laugh at me—and anyway no one believes I can do it.”
“Gwenny, it’s not eccentric to have extrasensory perception. It’s a gift. You can see ghosts and talk to them.”
“And demons,” Xemerius pointed out.
“In mythology, the raven stands for the link between human beings and the world of the gods. Ravens carry messages between the living and the dead.” Lesley turned her file my way, so that I could read what she had found on the Internet about ravens. “You have to admit your abilities suit that very well.”
“Your hair too,” said Xemerius. “Black as a raven’s wings.”
I was biting my lower lip. “But in the prophesies it sounds so—oh, I don’t know, so important and powerful and all that. As if the magic of the raven was some kind of secret weapon.”
“It could be that as well,” said Lesley. “You have to stop thinking it’s only a kind of strange eccentricity allowing you to see ghosts.”
“And demons,” Xemerius repeated.
“I’d love to know exactly what those prophesies say,” said Lesley. “It would be so interesting to have the full text.”
“Charlotte can certainly rattle them all off by heart,” I said. “I think she learnt them when she was being taught the mysteries. And everyone talks about them in rhyme. The Guardians. Even my mum. And Gideon.”
I quickly turned away so that Lesley wouldn’t see my eyes suddenly filling with tears, but it was too late.
“Oh, sweetie, don’t start crying again!” She handed me a tissue. “You’re making too much of it.”
“No, I’m not. Remember how you cried for days on end over Max?” I said, sniffing.
“Of course,” said Lesley. “It was only six months ago.”
oom was beginning to spin around.
“I love you, Grandpa!” I called.
