“A map!” exclaimed Robert. He was close to loosing sanity. “How can that rubbish be a map?”
“Not a map actually, more a grid reference.” Raven looked directly at him. “Your wife is lost and every second she gets further away. That box is like a GPS signal on a metaphysical map of the human imagination. It's the only way we'll find her.”
“But who buried it?” I asked.
“Maybe she did, maybe it was you!”
“How could it be me, surely I'd remember?
“Do you remember what you did next week?”
