It was then she had seen it. A possible link. A small, fragile thread, but something that just might tie the past to the present in a way none of them had thought about before.

Winchester. The capital of Wessex. The place of the Queen of Mercia’s birth. And the place where she sent some of her slaves. Not just Seren’s daughter, but others from the crannog. Who were they? I must be able to remember. A middleaged woman, and a teenage boy. With bright green eyes. Like Dylan’s. Oh my God! All the time, the link was there and I didn’t see it. Professor Williams said Greta had wanted to move to the lake. That she had felt an affinity with it. She was researching the crannog and she must have got so close to finding the truth about what happened. And then she died, before she could find the final piece of the puzzle. Did she know? Had she realized the connection her own family had with this place? I wonder.

Tilda had found it. Dylan was the descendant of the other slave sent to Wessex from the crannog. It must have been his ancestor who had in some way been responsible for the terrible end that the woman in the grave had suffered. It was Dylan’s life she had come back for. Now that she had that piece, more fell into place. The witch’s ghost in the Landrover had been trying to get to him. The falling lights at the dig were meant for him.

Dylan!

Now, in the water, it is the thought of him asleep and defenseless in the cottage, unaware of what terrible danger he is in, it is this thought that sparks panic inside Tilda. Only a few seconds ago she had been content to let go, to drift ever downward and become part of the lake. To accept her fate. But now, realizing that she alone can save Dylan, she is forced to fight for her own life.

I couldn’t help Mat. I’m not going to let Dylan die too. I am not!

She starts kicking. Her legs are strong, but the cold has numbed them so much she can barely feel them. She uses her arms in a desperate attempt to halt her descent, to propel herself up. She can still just make out the light above the surface, but there is so much dark water between herself and that soft glimmer. There is pain in her chest now, and a buzzing in her head, all telling her to take another breath. But she knows that to do so now, at such a depth, would be the end.

Come on, girl! Just like running. You can do it.