Saphire Blue

7/29/2019 Saphire Blue

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Henry Holt and Company, LLC Publishers since 1866

175 Fi th AvenueNew York, New York 10010

macteenbooks.com

Henry Holt is a registered trademark o Henry Holt and Company, LLC.Text copyright 2012 by Kerstin Gier

Translation copyright 2012 by Anthea Bell

All rights reserved.First published in the United States in 2012 by Henry Holt and Company, LLC.

Original title: Kerstin Gier, Saphirblau Liebe geht durch alle Zeiten copyright 2010 Arena Verlag GmbH, Wurzburg, Germany,

published by arrangement with Rights People.

Library o Congress Cataloging- in-Publication DataGier, Kerstin.

[Saphirblau. En glish]Sapphire blue / Kerstin Gier ; translated rom the German

by Anthea Bell. 1st American ed.p. cm.

Originally published in Germany in 2010 by Arena Verlag GmbH under the titleSaphirblau: Liebe geht durch alle Zeiten. Copyright p.

Sequel to: Ruby red.Summary: Sixteen- year-old Gwen, the newest and nal member o the secret

time-traveling Circle o Twelve, searches through history or the othertime-travelers, aided by riend Lesley, James the ghost, Xemerius the gargoyle

demon, and Gideon, the Diamond, whose ate seems bound with hers.ISBN 978-0-8050-9266-0 (hc)

[1. Time travel Fiction. 2. Family li e London (England) Fiction. 3. Secret societies Fiction. 4. London (England) Fiction. 5. England Fiction. 6. Great Britain HistoryFiction.]

I. Bell, Anthea. II. Title.PZ7.G3523Sap 2012 [Fic] dc23 2011034011

First American Edition 2012 / Designed by April Ward

Printed in the United States o America by R. R. Donnelley & Sons Company,Harrisonburg, Virginia

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YOUNG PEOPLE, this is a church! No kissing allowedhere!

Startled, I opened my eyes and hastily sat up straight,expecting to see some old- ashioned priest hurrying indig-nantly toward me with his cassock billowing, all set todeliver a stern lecture. But it wasnt the priest o this parishchurch who had disturbed our kiss. It wasnt a human being at all. The speaker was a small gargoyle crouching in the

pew right next to the con essional, as surprised to see meas I was to see him. Although that was hardly possible. Because basically

my state o mind couldnt be called mere surprise. To behonest, my powers o thought had switched of entirely.

It had all begun with that kiss.Gideon de Villiers had kissed me me, Gwyneth

Shepherd.O course I should have wondered why the idea came

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into his head so suddenly in a con essional in a churchsomewhere in Belgravia in the year 1912 just a ter wed

been running ull tilt in headlong ight, and my close-tting, ankle- length dress with its silly sailor collar kept

getting in the way.I could have made analytical comparisons with kisses

Id had rom other boys, trying to work out just why Gideondid it so much better. I might also have stopped to re-

member that there was a wall between us, and a con es-sional window through which Gideon had squeezed hishead and arms, and these were not the ideal conditions

or kissing. Quite apart rom the act that I could do with-out any more chaos in my li e, a ter discovering only twodays ago that Id inherited my amilys time- traveling

gene.The act was, however, that I hadnt been thinking

anything at all, except maybe oh and hmm and more!Thats why I hadnt noticed the ip- op sensation

inside me, and only now, when the little gargoyle oldedhis arms and ashed his eyes at me rom his pew, only when

I saw the con essional curtain brown, although it had been green velvet a moment ago did I work it out thatmeanwhile wed traveled back to the present.

Hell! Gideon moved back to his side o the con es-sional and rubbed the back o his head.

Hell? I came down rom cloud nine with a bump andorgot the gargoyle.

Oh, I didnt think it was that bad, I said, trying to sound as casual as possible. Un ortunately, I was rather


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breathless, which tended to spoil the efect. I couldnt look Gideon in the eye, so instead I kept staring at the brown

polyester curtain in the con essional.Good heavens! Id traveled nearly a hundred years

through time without noticing because that kiss had sototally and absolutely . . . well, surprised me. I mean, oneminute heres this guy grousing away at you, the next youre in the middle o a wild chase to get away rom men

armed with pistols, and suddenly like, out o nowhere hes telling you youre something special and kissing you. And, wow, could Gideon kiss! I instantly elt green with jealousy o all the girls hed learnt to do it with.

No one in sight. Gideon took a cautious look out o the con essional and then emerged into the church. Good.

Well catch the bus back to the Temple. Come on, theyll be expecting us.

I stared blankly past the curtain at him. Did that meanthat now he was carry ing on as i nothing had happened? A ter a kiss (or be ore a kiss would really be better, but itwas too late or that), youd think a ew basic questions

might be cleared up, wouldnt you? Was the kiss somekind o declaration o love? Or had we just been snogging a little because we had nothing better to do?

Im not going on a bus in this dress, I said rmly, get-ting to my eet with as much dignity as possible. Id soonerhave bitten of my tongue than ask any o the questionsthat had just been going through my head.

The dress was white, with sky- blue satin bows at thewaist and the collar, probably the latest ashion in the year


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1912, but not quite right or wearing on public transport inthe twenty- rst century. Lets take a taxi, I added.

Gideon turned to me, but he didnt object. In thatearly twentieth- century coat, and with those neat trousercreases, he seemed to eel he wasnt necessarily dressed ora bus ride either. Although he did look really good in thecostume o the time, particularly now that his hair wasntcombed right back behind his ears like two hours ago.

Locks o it were alling untidily over his orehead.I stepped out into the nave o the church to join him

and shivered. It was icy cold in here. Was that because Idhad almost no sleep over the last three days? Or because o what had just happened?

I guessed my body had manu actured more adrena-

line in those three days than in all my sixteen years o li e be ore. So much had happened, and Id had so little timeto think about it. My head elt like it was bursting withnew in ormation and emotions. I Id been a character ina strip cartoon, Id have had a thought bubble with a hugequestion mark in it hovering over me. And maybe a couple

o deaths-heads as well.I gave mysel a little shake. So i Gideon was carrying on as i nothing had happened well, thanks a lot, I coulddo the same. Okay, lets get out o here, I said brightly.Im cold.

I tried to push past him, but he took hold o my armand stopped me. Listen, about all that just now . . . Hestopped, probably hoping I was going to interrupt him.

Which o course I wasnt. I was only too keen to hear


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what he had to say. I also ound breathing di cult whenhe was standing so close to me.

That kiss . . . I didnt mean . . . Once again it was onlyhal a sentence. But I immediately nished it in my mind.

I didnt mean it that way.Well, obviously, but then he shouldnt have done it,

should he? It was like setting re to a curtain and thenwondering why the whole house burned down. (Okay,

silly comparison.) I wasnt going to make it any easier orhim. I looked at him coolly and expectantly. That is, I tried to look at him coolly and expectantly, but I probably reallyhad an expression on my ace saying, Oh, Im cute littleBambi, please dont shoot me!There was nothing I coulddo about that. All I needed was or my lower lip to start

trembling.I didnt mean it that way! Go on, say it!But Gideon didnt say anything. He took a hairpin out

o my untidy hair (by now my complicated arrangemento strands must have looked as i a couple o birds had beennesting in it), took one strand, and wound it around his

nger. With his other hand, he began stroking my ace,and then he bent down and kissed me again, this time verycautiously. I closed my eyes and the same thing happenedas be ore: my brain sufered that delicious break in trans-mission. (Well, all it was transmitting was oh, hmm, andmore!)

But that lasted only about ten seconds, because then avoice right beside us said, irritated, Not starting that stuf up again, are you?


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Startled, I pushed Gideon slightly away and stared rightinto the ace o the little gargoyle, who was now hanging

upside down rom the gallery under which we were stand-ing. To be precise, he was the ghost o a gargoyle.

Gideon had let go o my hair and had a neutral expres-sion on his ace. Oh, God! What must he think o me now?I could read nothing in his green eyes, or at the most I sawslight surprise there and annoyance?

I . . . I thought I heard something, I murmured.Okay, he said, slowly but in a per ectly riendly tone.You heard me, said the gargoyle. You heard me, you

did! He was about the size o a cat, and he had a catlikeace, except that as well as his big, pointed, lynxlike ears,

he had two round horns, little wings on his back, and a

long, scaly, lizard tail ending in a triangular point. He waslashing the tail back and orth in excitement. You can seeme too!

I didnt reply.Wed better go, said Gideon.You can see me and hear me! cried the little gargoyle,

delighted. He dropped rom the gallery to one o the pewsand hopped up and down on it. He had a husky voice, likea child with a cold. I spotted that right away!

Come to think o it, I had seen him be ore. In thatchurch back in 1912. I I put a oot wrong now, Id never berid o him. I deliberately let my eyes wander over the pewswith total indiference as I walked to the church door.Gideon held it open or me.


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Thanks, very kind o you! said the gargoyle, slipping through onto the church porch with us.

Out on the pavement, I looked up at the sky. It wascloudy, so the sun wasnt in sight, but at a guess, I thoughtit must be early eve ning.

Wait or me, wait or me! cried the gargoyle, pluck-ing at the skirt o my dress. We have to talk! Its urgent!Hey, youre treading on my toes. . . . Dont pretend you

cant see me. I know you can. A little water shot out o his mouth and ormed a tiny puddle around my but-toned boots. Oops, scuse me. Only happens when I getoverexcited.

I looked up at the church aade. I guessed it was Vic-torian architecture, with stained- glass windows and two

elaborate, pretty towers. Brickwork alternated with cream-colored plaster, making a pattern o stripes. But howeverhigh I looked, I couldnt see a single statue on the entire building, let alone another gargoyle. Odd that the ghostwas haunting it all the same.

Here I am! called the gargoyle, clinging to the ma-

sonry right in ront o my nose. He could climb like a lizard,o course they all can. I stared at the brick next to his heador a second and turned away.

The gargoyle wasnt so sure that I really could see himnow. Oh, please, he said. It would be so nice to talk tosomeone else or once, not just the ghost o Sir ArthurConan Doyle.

Quite ingenious o him, but I wasnt alling or that


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one. I did eel sorry or him, but I knew what a nuisancethose little pests could be. Whats more, hed disturbed me

in mid-kiss, and all because o him, Gideon now probablythought I was a silly girl who didnt know her own mind.

Please, please, pleeeeease! begged the gargoyle.I went on ignoring him as hard as I could. As i I didnt

have enough problems already!Gideon had gone to the edge o the pavement and was

looking out or a taxi to hail. O course a ree one camealong at once. Some people have all the luck. Or call it some-thing like natural authority. My grandmother Lady Arista,

or instance. She only had to stand at the roadside looking stern, and taxi drivers squealed to a halt right away.

Coming, Gwyneth?

You cant just walk away like that! The hoarse, child-like voice sounded tear ul, heart rending. When weveonly just this minute ound each other.

Very likely i wed been on our own, Id have let himpersuade me to talk to him. In spite o his pointed angsand clawlike eet, he was kind o cute, and he probably

didnt get much company. (Id bet the ghost o Sir ArthurConan Doyle had more interesting things to do than talk to gargoyles. What was Sir Arthurs ghost up to in Londonanyway?) But i you start talking to ghosts and so on in

ront o other people, they think youre a liar or just show-ing of. Thats i youre lucky. I you arent, which is mosto the time, they think youre totally crazy. Besides, thelast gargoyle I talked to had been so afectionate and cling-ing that I could hardly even go to the toilet alone.


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So I got into the taxi with a stony expression andstared straight ahead as we set of, with Gideon sitting

next to me and looking out o the window. The taxi driverraised his eyebrows as he examined our costumes in therearview mirror, but much to his credit, he made nocomment.

Its nearly six thirty, said Gideon, obviously trying to strike up a normal conversation. No wonder Im dying

o starvation.Once hed said it, I realized that I elt the same. Id

hardly managed to get hal my break ast down because o the edgy atmosphere around the amily break ast table,and as usual school lunch had been inedible. I thoughtrather wist ully o the appetizing sandwiches and scones

on Lady Tilneys tea table. Wed missed out on them aswell.

Lady Tilney! Only now did it strike me that Gideonand I had better discuss our adventures in the year 1912. A ter all, our visit to her had gone wildly of course, andI had no idea what the Guardians, who considered time

travel no joking matter, were going to think o that. Gideonand I had traveled back to 1912 on a mission to read LadyTilney into the chronograph. (To be honest, I still didntentirely understand the reasons or that, but the wholething seemed to be enormously important. As ar as Icould make it out, the sa ety o the world itsel was atstake, at the very least.) But be ore we could do anything about that my cousin Lucy and Paul de Villiers came barg-ing in. They were the villains o the piece, or anyway


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thats how Gideons amily and Gideon himsel saw it. Ap-parently Lucy and Paul had stolen the other chronograph

and hidden in the past with it. No one had heard o themor years until they turned up at Lady Tilneys house and

wrecked our little tea party.When exactly pistols were drawn was something Id

suppressed out o sheer right, but at some point, Gideonhad held a gun to Lucys head, a pistol that, strictly speak-

ing, he ought not to have brought with him at all. (Likeme when I took my mobile phone into the past, but at least you cant shoot anyone dead with a mobile!) Then we ran

or it and took shelter in the church. But all the time Id been unable to shake of a eeling that the Lucy and Paulsituation wasnt quite as black and white as the de Villiers

amily liked to paint it.What are we going to say about Lady Tilney? I asked.Hm. Gideon rubbed his orehead wearily. Im not

suggesting we should actually lie, but maybe, just this once,it would be a good idea to edit a ew things out. Youd betterleave the talking to me.

There it was again, that amiliar tone o command.Oh, sure, I said. Ill just nod and keep my mouth shut, theway a nice girl should.

I instinctively, de antly, crossed my arms. Why couldntGideon act normal? First he kissed me (more than once, atthat!), then he was back talking like a lordly Grand Mastero the Guardians Lodge again. What was the idea?

We concentrated on looking out o our respectivewindows.

Saphire Blue

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