Moshie’s eyes narrowed to mere slits as a thought hit him. His breath caught and his fingers tapped the keys rapidly. As the page displayed results, he leapt from his seat, “Turn this plane around!”

The persian hissed as it scrambled out of his way, “Have you gone mad Professor?”

Moshie ran his hand over his forehead roughly muttering to himself, “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before.”

“Professor! What have you come up with? I will not order this plane around until you explain something to us.”

Moshie looked at them with wild eyes, forcing himself to sit back down. “Ley lines,” he said. “St. Michael’s and St. Mary’s.”

The persian coughed as though he would hack up a hairball, which Moshie interpretted as a laugh, “So you want to visit Stonehenge. How cliche. How stupid. No!”

Moshie shook his head emphatically, “Not Stonehenge. Avebury. Older than Stonehenge. South of the henge. More powerful than the henge. There’s a temple. That is the exit point.”

“Pilot! Head to Avebury!”