“So,” I said. “I am left with just a few days to stop the bad guys from destroying the world and save the family from itself. If I hadn’t already done this once before, I might be seriously worried.”

CHAPTER TWELVE - A Circle Full of Secrets

CHAPTER TWELVE

A Circle Full of Secrets

"Sorry, Giles,” I said. “But it looks like you’re going to have to hit the ground running. I don’t have the time to give you a proper briefing and a guided tour of the Hall. So just do your best to pick it up as we go along.” He smiled coldly, a tall, dark, and dangerous presence in his futuristic armour. "I’ve experienced enough alien worlds and cultures in my time; I think I can cope with anything you have here. Do people still drink wine? Do they still have sex? Are there still braggarts and villains and people who need killing? Then I believe I’ll fit in just fine.”

“The man has a point,” said Molly.

“Well, I’m going to have to love you and leave you,” Jay said briskly. “I have work that must be attended to, with Rafe and William in the old library. When it comes to the Loathly Ones, information is ammunition, and we’re pitifully short on both.”

He bobbed a quick bow to Giles and left the hangar at something approaching a dead run.

“And you have work to be about too,” said the ghost Jacob, scowling ominously at me. “Harry, bad cess to the man, and the useless bunch of toadies and yes-men he appointed to replace your Inner Circle, are currently deciding important matters in the Sanctity, and making a right dog’s breakfast of it. You need to be there, boy, before Harry drops this family in it any deeper.”

“You seem a lot more . . . together,” I said. “More focused, in body and soul.”

The ghost shrugged quickly, little blue balls of ectoplasm bobbing up off his shoulders. “Having my living counterpart around certainly helped remind me of who I used to be, and there’s nothing like a major emergency and the almost certain death of the whole damned world to concentrate the mind wonderfully. On the other hand . . . my memories of this shared time are still almost nonexistent. I think . . . I may have done this to myself deliberately. Perhaps so I wouldn’t have to tell my living self how he’s going to die.”

“You still think he’s going to die here, in this time, helping us?” I said.

“Oh yes. A glorious death . . . but still no peace for the wicked. He will die and become me, and I . . . will linger on for centuries to reach this place, this point in time. And all I can say is, there had better be a bloody good reason for it.”

“You still don’t know why you’re here?” said Molly.