Iona looked puzzled. “The book is enchanted, but it’s completely harmless — it’s what we call an enabler. It helps readers open their minds far enough for them to be able to travel as far into the past or present as they need to. It’s so much easier than reading. But Nat, you weren’t in any danger, I promise. The drink I gave you was a velocity antidote; it’s supposed to stop you from feeling travel sickness.”

“Well, it didn’t work,” said Nat resentfully.

“Hot dogs … at the fair!” cried Woody. “We had five with chili sauce! Must have been them.”

“Ugh, shut up,” said Nat weakly.

“No harm done, Nat,” soothed Iona. “You’re back safely.”

“So did I actually travel, then?” asked Nat. “Did … did I actually disappear?”

“You did!” Iona laughed. “Brilliant, isn’t it?”

A big, fat grin appeared on Nat’s face. He was way too excited to remain annoyed with Iona. She had, after all, shown him things that were so incredible he knew he would never forget them as long as he lived.

“I wish you could have been there,” said Nat excitedly. “I saw the Wolven and Richard the Lionheart and …”

“I did see it,” said Woody. “I saw it … through you.”

“But …?” asked Nat, bewildered. “Oh! Oooh … you read my mind?”

“You don’t … you don’t mind, do you?” asked Woody anxiously.

“It is all pretty weird,” said Nat uncertainly.

“Everything you just experienced happened nine centuries ago,” said Iona. “Long before that, in the early dark ages, a lost legend told of golden-eyed white wolves ‘fleet of mind and foot’ who could change ‘smooth of cheek’ by the moon’s full light. For six centuries they served their kings loyally, appearing whenever they were needed, drifting away like smoke when the job was done. According to Sir William de Gourney’s chronicle, the Wolven rarely killed an enemy of the king. Just the sight of them, eyes flashing, teeth bared, was enough to send them running for the hills!”

“They came to help,” said Nat. “When I saw them, they had come to escort Richard to safety. It was like he was expecting them.”

“It was their job,” said Iona simply.

“But what happened to the Wolven clans after the Crusades?” asked Nat. “Did they go into hiding like the Knights Templar?”

“Times were changing,” said Iona. “Life had become safer and strong magic was dying. After two hundred years of conflict and a terrible loss of human lives, the Crusades at last came to an end.”

Woody’s lip curled. “Bad,” he said. “Crusades were bad.”