I scanned the lake, registering the ice, the desiccated reeds, rotten or hollow, the churned snow from where we’d walked that morning. When I looked up, I saw David, almost directly opposite me on the other side of the lake. He was making with firm purpose toward the temple, moving eagerly, with quick sure steps, like a fox on its way to an unlocked chicken coop. The hood of his coat was pulled back and I could see a rim of forest green at his neck and the flush of color in his cheeks. My eyes moved back to the temple and then to David, from David to the temple. And then, of course, I knew where the necklace was, as though I had peered through a window into his mind. Somewhere clever? Who was cleverer than Athena, goddess of wisdom?

There was no way to catch him up, not even at a sprint, and at the prospect of defeat, I let out a bellow, so that David stopped and turned. Over at the house, I sensed the others pause in what they were doing. David was smiling at me across the lake. He was a hundred meters or so from the temple, and so was I, only the sheet of ice lay between me and the necklace. The stone I had thrown earlier was still lying out in the middle where white met black.

Marcus shouted as I took off running. The snow lay in drifts on the banks of the lake and at each stride I went in up to the knee, then I half stumbled, half leapt, out onto the frozen ice. My heels met the ungiving surface and I slid forward, waving my hands, until I reached a patch where the ice was rimed with frost and my shoes gained purchase. Managing to upright myself, I bounded forward, back in control and gathering speed. David was still frozen at the lake’s far side but at the touch of my glance, he began to run and then we were both racing toward the temple and to where I was convinced the necklace was hidden.

The black patches lay ahead, but I was not thinking of them; I was not conscious of thinking of anything at all. It is odd to say it, but I was happy: my feet skimming over the ice, beneath me the dark depths of the lake, and then far down in the cold mud the slumbering fishes. I was aware of my body, flying forward, legs scissoring, my breath as it sawed in and out. The woods and hills were a blur. Yes, I was happy, possibly happier than I had been in years, even as I heard the ice crack and felt the faintest shift beneath my feet. My heart moved a little in my chest, and after that first lurch, I felt it beating against the bones of my rib cage and everything started going faster: my feet, the blurring at the edges of my vision, the air rushing into my lungs.