Unfortunately for me, I can imagine the trouble Sangeeta would be in, and it meant that I was silent all the way back to Earl Grey House, my ancient mind dancing, fighting, arguing with the task ahead of me.

I would need help, that was for sure.

I would need to act fast, of that I was equally sure.

I had thought I could wait a week or two—maybe a month—to plan everything and beat the archaeologists to the site on Coquet Island.

Now things were different.

I knew that the second application of the life-pearl would start the aging process again. From the moment I took it, I would start to grow up again. That was assuming it still worked after centuries underground.

What I did not know was whether it would “reset” my age. If I took it, would the DNA test of my cells, which Sangeeta was insisting upon, still reveal my true age? Or would it show me to be eleven?

I also knew that if I did not act before I had the test, then everything would be lost.

The only hope I had was to act soon.

And by soon, I mean tomorrow.

Staring out of the car window, I looked in the side mirror. The car behind was a black BMW. I could not see inside because of the sunshine reflecting off the windshield, but I knew it was him.

Then I saw his car indicator light flashing; he turned up Beach Road to the left as we continued on toward Culvercot. He was just checking that we were going back.

I think.

I needed help and I needed friends—and I needed them both fast.