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“Friends Will Be Friends” again out in the corridor.
    I spent much longer in the ladies’ than really necessary. I washed my hands thoroughly and splashed plenty of cold water on my face, hoping it would clear my head. But that didn’t stop my confused ideas from going round and round like a carousel. My reflection in the mirror looked as if crows had been nesting in my hair, and I ran my fingers through it to smooth it out, meanwhile trying to encourage myself. The way my friend Lesley would have done if she’d been here.
    “Only a couple of hours and then you’ll be through with it, Gwyneth. And, hey, considering you’re so tired and hungry, you don’t look too bad.”
    My reflection peered reproachfully at me out of large eyes rimmed by dark shadows.
    “Okay, that was a lie,” I admitted. “You look terrible. But you’ve been known to look worse. For instance when you had chicken pox. So chin up! You can do it.”
    I found Xemerius dangling from a chandelier in the corridor like a bat. “It’s a bit creepy in here,” he said. “A one-armed Knight Templar just walked by. Friend of yours?”
    “No,” I said. “Thank God, he isn’t. Come on, we have to go this way.”
    “Will you explain time travel to me?”
    “I don’t understand it myself.”
    “Will you buy me a cat?”
    “No.”
    “Come to think of it, I know where you can get cats for free. Hey, there’s a person inside that suit of armor.”
    I cast a surreptitious glance at it. Sure enough, I had the feeling that I saw a pair of eyes glittering behind the closed visor. It was the same suit of armor I’d tapped cheerfully on the shoulder yesterday, naturally thinking it was just there for decoration.
    Somehow yesterday seemed years ago.
    I met Mrs. Jenkins, the secretary, outside the door of the Dragon Hall. She was carrying a tray and was glad that I could hold the door open for her.
    “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