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‘But … none of this is in any records,’ Tom said. ‘And people travel to the future all the time. We’d know. I’ve travelled centuries into the future. No apocalypses—I promise.’

Centuries into the future. The jolt of it hit Joan belatedly; Tom’s casual tone had delayed her understanding of what he’d said. How far into the future had he gone? How much human life had it cost?

‘We can’t just ignore this, though,’ Nick said. ‘What if Astrid’s right? We can’t just let it happen.’

Once again, Joan found herself looking at him, handsome and dark-eyed and grave. He didn’t know anything, and already he wanted to step up and stop this. It was instinct for him.

And Tom’s words had reminded her again of the truth too. This was a room full of monsters, of people who stole human life at whim. Her stomach churned.

‘Astrid mentioned my gran. She said Gran was looking for a way to prevent it.’

‘Gran knew?’ Ruth repeated, surprised.

‘Did she ever say anything?’ Joan asked.

‘About some apocalyptic event? No.’ Ruth ran a hand through her thick curls, looking worried. ‘It’s been nearly a year since I last saw her, though.’

‘A year?’ Joan hadn’t realised that Gran had been gone for so long.

‘She never said anything before that,’ Ruth said. ‘I mean, if she’d known about it, she would have—’ She cut herself off. ‘If she’d known about it …’ she said more slowly.

‘What is it?’ Joan said. Ruth’s gaze had gone inward.

‘It’s probably nothing,’ Ruth said, but the way she said it made Joan tense. ‘I think she was preoccupied with something just before she left this time. I mean—’ Ruth’s eyes focused on Joan. ‘She was worried about you. But … I think she was worried about something else too.’

Ice crawled down Joan’s spine. Gran rarely worried about anything—or at least she rarely showed it.

Tom leaned forward. On his lap, Frankie made a querying whuff, and Tom stroked her head. ‘Preoccupied with what?’ he said.

‘I don’t know,’ Ruth said. ‘She wouldn’t tell me. But I got the feeling she was looking into something. Trying to figure something out.’

Was there a way to find Gran now and ask her? She was shut out of this time, and Joan was mired here, but maybe they could communicate, at least. ‘Do you know what date she travelled to?’

Ruth ran her hand through her hair again. ‘I don’t want you to worry, okay?’ she said to Joan.

Another thread of ice. ‘Worry?’

‘She’s been off the radar since she left. No messages, no word of where she went.’ For a second, Ruth seemed about to say something else, but she didn’t go on.

‘You haven’t heard from her at all?’

‘You know what she’s like,’ Ruth said.

Joan did know. All the Hunts went into hiding sometimes—Ruth included. A year without any word at all seemed a long time, though. And, on the face of it, Gran had been looking into something, and then she’d disappeared.

sixteen

As soon as they started down the stairs, Joan knew something was wrong. A crowd had formed in the little gallery space—and if the atmosphere had been hostile when Nick had arrived, now there was a feeling of a boil-over.

‘What’s going on?’ Joan said as she reached the foot of the stairs. There must have been thirty people crammed into the little room, and they were all staring at Nick, some with arms folded, some clearly scared.

Liam Liu emerged from the clumped crowd. ‘Just stay calm,’ he told Joan. ‘No one’s going to hurt him.’

Calm? Joan’s heart was already pounding. ‘What are you doing?’ A creak on the stairs made her look up. There was a big man on the landing above, blocking the way back up. She looked around. People had positioned themselves at the doors. ‘What is this?’

‘We were promised sanctuary by a head of your family!’ Ruth said to Liam, bewildered. ‘We had her word.’

‘You still have it,’ Liam said.