As the Landrover slithers down the snowy road, Tilda is too distracted to be concerned about car crashes or flashbacks, though Dylan had sweetly checked that she was okay about getting in the vehicle again before they set off. The discovery that her own design matches exactly that of something dug from the earth beside the lake has shaken her. She and Dylan both tried to reason it out—common Celtic motifs, Tilda has a dog and recently saw a hare, both animals could have been found in the area anytime over the last several centuries. Perhaps it is just that Tilda has tapped into the language of the art of the place. Perhaps she simply saw an illustration of an ancient image somewhere and the similarities beyond that are born of coincidence. Or perhaps they are not. She cannot shake off the feeling that there is something more, some deeper connection between herself and whatever it is Thistle found.

One thing she and Dylan instantly agreed on was that the man to help was Professor Williams. Tilda had hurriedly put in her contact lenses while Dylan adjusted the stoves to work gently, before they jumped into the Landrover, which, for all its great age and shabbiness, is perfect for negotiating the snow-covered slopes.

They find the professor clearing his garden path, shoveling snow and grit with surprising vigor for a man of his years. He greets them warmly and takes them indoors. Dylan and Tilda both talk over one another in their excitement, not letting up even as they take off their boots and he leads them into the sitting room, so that eventually he has to hold up his hands.

‘I’m sorry, but all this clamoring is impossible to make sense of. Now, I suggest one of you take a deep breath and slowly tell me what this is all about. Whilst the other remains silent,’ he adds quickly.

Tilda steps forward and holds out the bracelet.

‘Thistle dug this up by the lake,’ she tells him.

Professor Williams takes it from her, snatching up his reading glasses from the coffee table and setting them on his nose. He peers at the curious object, turning it over and over in his hands. Next, he abandons his glasses and from a desk drawer finds a photographer’s loop, the lens of which will allow much greater magnification. He presses the device to his eye, holding the bracelet beneath a standard lamp. Which instantly goes out, as do all the other lights in the house.

‘Damn!’ says Tilda.

‘That’s curious.’ The professor looks up. ‘It’s possible the snow has affected the power supply. Dylan, would you be so good as to check the fuse box for me, please?’

Dylan exchanges glances with Tilda, but goes to do his best with the fuses.