The police station was quiet, the sort of hush that only fell over a place not used to being busy. Gethin opened the door for me and I walked into the cool, dimly lit reception area. I glanced around for a receptionist, but the desk was empty, except for a single potted plant in the corner, which looked like it was dying.

"No one to meet us? I mean, greet us?" I added quickly, lowering my voice.

Gethin checked his watch. "The office opens at ten. It's only half nine," he said.

He led me down a narrow corridor, past a series of closed doors, until we reached one at the end. He unlocked it and motioned for me to go in.

His office was small and unassuming. The walls were covered with framed photographs of Llyncroft's landscapes throughout the seasons. There was a large map of the area behind his desk marked with red pins.

There was a bookshelf by the window, full of well-thumbed books ranging from local history to criminal psychology. There were also some carved wooden figures, mostly wolves.

I went over to the shelf and hovered my fingers over the carvings. "Did you make these?" I asked, without turning around.

There was a pause. "Yeah," Gethin said. "It's a bit of a hobby."

I smiled to myself. It was nice to see this side of him. I

The desk was tidy, with papers stacked neatly and pens lined up. There was something personal on the desk too, a photo frame facing away from me. I couldn't resist moving closer to see who might be in it.

"Evie," Gethin said, clearing his throat. "This way." He nodded towards the map.

Gethin pulled out a chair for me, and I sat down, facing the map behind his desk.

"The red pins show where we have found traces of arcanite," he said, running his finger along the lines between the pins. "We have been trying to work out if there is a pattern, something that will tell us where more might be hidden, or where the next strike might be."

I leant in, looking at the red dots on the map. They seemed random at first glance, but I softened my gaze, trying to connect with the land under the paper.

"Can you see anything?" Gethin sounded hopeful, but I could hear the weariness in his voice.

I bit my lip. "I'm not sure. There's something, maybe if I just look a bit longer."

Gethin nodded. "Take your time." He moved away and sat at his desk, opening a manila folder, and read. I guessed it was the autopsy report.

I hovered my fingers over the map, not quite touching. It was as if I could feel the heat from the areas where the pins were. It wasn't really heat, but a pulsing energy.

The pins joined in my mind, forming lines and shapes that twisted around each other. It was like watching a flock of birds coming together to make patterns in the sky before scattering again. The pins were points in a larger constellation. One I couldn't quite see, but it was so close.

I traced the lines on the map, my mind still whirring with half-formed thoughts. "What does the autopsy say?" I asked, breaking the silence.

Gethin looked up from his folder, his piercing blue eyes locking onto mine. "Thomas Davies was killed by lacerations to his neck," he said, his voice measured and calm. "The wounds were made by a wolf shifter."

I felt a chill run down my spine. "But you're sure it wasn't anyone from your pack?"

Gethin nodded slowly, his expression grim. "The DNA doesn't match anyone in my pack," he said. "We've double-checked."

I took a deep breath as questions formed in my mind. "So, there's another shifter out there?"

"It looks that way," Gethin replied, closing the folder and leaning back in his chair.

"Could it be someone passing through? Or maybe someone who's been hiding here all along?" I asked.

Gethin shook his head. "It's hard to say. We've always been a close-knit community. If there's another shifter here, they've gone to great lengths to stay hidden."

Gethin stood to come and look at the map as if looking at something familiar would help him make connections with the new information from the autopsy report.

A piece of paper slipped from Gethin's desk, like a stray leaf in a gentle breeze. It spun and fluttered to the floor, and I watched it fall, captivated by its familiar motion. I remembered the sight of Gran's letter from the solicitor, remembered the same fluttering fall onto my kitchen table. Inside, a note from Gran in her spidery handwriting and a symbol I had never made sense of.

"Sorry about that," Gethin said, bending down to pick up the paper.

"No, wait," I said. "Gran left me a letter. There was a symbol on it. It was the same as on a locket I found. Can I try something?" I reached for a pen on Gethin's desk. "Can I?"

Gethin nodded, and I drew the symbol from memory onto a blank piece of paper. I stood back to admire my handiwork. I gasped. The symbol I had drawn, if I held it up to the map, matched up with the points Gethin had marked with the red pins.

"Gethin," I said. "Look at this."

He stood behind me so he could see how my drawing lined up with the map. His eyes widened as he took in the implications of what I had drawn.

"Evie," he said. "If your symbol is connected to these points,"

"It means something." I said. I was speaking quickly and without thinking. "It can't be a coincidence."

He leaned in closer, pointing at a spot where lines crossed on the symbol, but there was nothing on the map. "I think we have to visit there," he said.