Veronica and Andrew slipped out of the sitting room and stopped in the corridor.

  “We got away with it…” Veronica breathed.

  “This time,” Andrew muttered.

  Veronica glanced back at the staircase and listened. The house was silent.

  “Come on,” she whispered. “Before they change their minds.”

  In the hallway the smell of morning chill and old wood still lingered. They hurriedly pulled on jackets. Veronica slipped her phone into her pocket. When the lock clicked behind them, the house exhaled. Ahead lay the town, inviting and noisy. Too alive after what they had left inside.

  The road to the fair wound like a grey ribbon between iced fences and dark firs. The air stung their cheeks, but walking grew easier. Silence stretched between them until the hum of avenues pulled them back to reality.

  “So, Pencil,” Veronica broke it first, “what’s your theory on all this?”

  “I don’t know,” Andrew shrugged. “They definitely saw the broken medallion, but they said nothing.”

  “Our ancestors are weird, don’t you think…?” Veronica said thoughtfully, rubbing the hand where the mark had burned yesterday. “Did you catch what Grandfather meant?”

  “Not a clue…”

  They turned a corner and stepped onto the main square. In the frosty blue the fair lights already danced. The town centre had turned into a fairy-tale forest. The air smelled of smoke from braziers and sweet gingerbread.

  Veronica wove confidently through the crowd, pulling Andrew along. She paused at stalls, then moved on.

  Ahead rose the old town hall tower. The clock stood at ten. Andrew blinked. The hands spun in a wild circle before freezing again. He shook his head.

  “Did you see that?” he asked.

  “See what?” Veronica replied, eyeing caramel apples on sticks.

  Andrew stayed silent. How to explain what he had just seen?

  “Nothing… probably imagined it…” he muttered, knowing how lame it sounded.

  “Fine, moving on. Focus on the new ‘artefact’,” Veronica said. “Grandfather said: something to unite us. Maybe a game?”

  “Or a Loch Ness Monster keychain,” Andrew grumbled, nodding at the nearest stall. “Very uniting.”

  Veronica rolled her eyes and pulled out her phone.

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  “Symbols of unity in Scottish mythology,” she dictated into the search bar.

  The screen flickered. The image glitched, and on black background two familiar golden wings flared, spread in flight. They burned so brightly they blinded for a moment, leaving dark afterimages.

  “What the…?” Veronica gasped.

  “Everything okay?” Andrew stepped closer.

  “Not anymore…” she said, staring at the phone.

  Veronica shoved it into her pocket. Her earlier confidence vanished. She looked around, but now the fair felt different, not a place for fun, but a backdrop hiding something else.

  “Okay,” she said quieter. “Google’s no help here.”

  At that moment something caught her eye at the edge of the square. Where the garlands thinned stood a dark stone building. Light did not reflect from its walls. It disappeared into them. On the facade patterns emerged, like intertwined roots encircling empty niches instead of windows.

  “Is that even normal?” Veronica pointed.

  Andrew looked. People walked past, but no one turned toward the strange structure.

  “It’s… kind of beautiful,” he said. “In its own way. Shame I didn’t bring my sketchbook. I’d have drawn it before it vanishes.”

  “You’re doing it again…” Veronica began, but froze.

  From inside the building came a low, unnatural howl. Veronica gripped Andrew’s jacket.

  “Did you hear that?”

  “Now you get what I’ve been talking about?”

  She nodded, looking around wildly.

  “Where’s it coming from…?”

  “That’s the point. From nowhere,” Andrew said.

  “Or from the shop? Look.”

  They approached one of the windows cautiously. Deep inside, behind shelves, glowed an amber light. It breathed and responded to every movement. Through the glass, beneath the howl, came a faint buzzing.

  “What is that?” Veronica whispered.

  “I’d like to know too.”

  The low sound drew from the darkness: deep and hidden.

  “Am I the only one who feels it’s calling us? Or…”

  “Feels like it. I think that’s where we’ll find what we’re looking for.”

  Andrew took the handle. The metal burned cold even through gloves. He inhaled, but did not back away. The heavy door gave way, releasing a puff of dusty warmth. Andrew stepped over the threshold and felt sounds blur, losing sharpness. Veronica followed and swayed. Warm, spiced air hit her nose. On both sides stretched shelves of things that drew the eye. Dim light caught glints of glass, metal and polished wood.

  “Wow…” Andrew whistled.

  He walked a few steps and stopped before a crystal orb on a table by the wall. Inside a tiny star slowly drifted, leaving a sparkling trail. Andrew reached out. The star rushed toward him. It hovered against the glass, watching from inside. Veronica examined a box. The ornament on its lid rotated, holding it in place.

  “You know…” she began and fell silent.

  Among the statuettes in the corner Andrew noticed a small clay bird. It looked rougher and older than the others, clearly shaped in haste. On its wings two sharp, almost predatory signs stood out: a spiral knotted tight, and an arrow piercing a broken circle.

  As he leaned closer, the symbols lifted from the bird and rose into the air. At the same moment both Andrew and Veronica were pulled toward each other. From the centre of the figurine burst a flash, stretching into a fiery arrow. In an instant the arrow split into two translucent copies that touched their foreheads simultaneously. A surge of energy shot through their bodies, making them stagger, then a shock wave threw them back.

  “What was that?” Veronica gasped, rubbing her bruised elbow.

  “I don’t know,” Andrew replied, feeling restless, prickling heat run through his veins.

  Veronica picked up the smoking figurine from the floor.

  “This can’t be coincidence…” she breathed. “The bird… almost the same as the one we found in the attic.”

  It became clear: the howl, the shop and the figurine wove into one pattern that had yet to unfold.

  Suddenly a shadow flickered between the shelves. Cold slashed across their skin. Andrew jerked, catching Veronica tense out of the corner of his eye. She had clearly seen the same thing, but to his surprise she did not retreat.

  Light folded in on itself, and the world dropped away, leaving them on the other side of the boundary.