“Time isn’t fixed,” Jacob said kindly. “But . . . if I don’t die, like I’m supposed to, I won’t be here to be your . . . friend, when you need it. Won’t be here to help you take down the Heart. The family always comes first, Eddie. I’m glad I got to meet you, boy. You were worth waiting for. You . . . are the son I never had. Now dry your eyes, and do what you have to. There is a purpose in this, a destiny we have to fulfil. I remember that much.”

“Why have you been hiding from me?” I said when I could trust my voice again.

“Because I had the feeling something bad was about to happen. And because . . . I need time alone, undisturbed, to make myself remember just what it is I’m supposed to do. Before it’s too late. Don’t come looking for me, Eddie. And don’t tell the living me about . . . me. Just in case you think of a way out.”

He grinned, winked a glowing eye, and then vanished from his chair, leaving me alone in the chapel.

Considering how my first attempt at meddling with time had gone, I wasn’t sure I wanted to try again. But need and duty and Jacob’s encouragement drove me on. I still needed help, perhaps now more than ever, and the only place left to look was among the future descendants of my family. And besides, I always was stubborn. So I fired up Merlin’s Glass again, and instructed it to show me the future.

“Show me how the Hall will look, a hundred years from now,” I said. That seemed safe enough.

The doorway opened, showing me a view of the Hall, standing tall and proud in its extensive grounds. The old house looked a hell of a lot bigger. Whole new wings had been added, and a tall stone tower on each corner. Airships of an unfamiliar design buzzed like sleek black wasps around the landing field at the back, and there were children, hundreds of children, running free and happy across the sloping lawns. And then the image changed abruptly, showing me another Hall. It was a ruin, broken stone and crumbling brick, and all the windows dark. The grounds were a rioting jungle of strange and alien plants, lapping right up against the sides of the Hall like a solid green tide. Creepers hung out of windows, trees burst out through broken walls. And no sign of the family anywhere.

The image changed again. This time the Hall I knew was gone, replaced by a magnificent high-tech structure, all gleaming steel and silver and huge flashing windows. Swirling energies coalesced around tall shimmering towers, and strange machines hopped across the neatly manicured lawns. And the whole place was surrounded by flying angels, full of a terrible beauty, singing songs of war, shining brighter than the sun . . .