Eye of the Falcon (Psychic Visions #12)(80)

“Any other way to get to it?”

She frowned and thought about it. “I think so. There was a bathroom up top. One of the reasons why I could stay there. Any time I needed, I could go to the washroom.”

“Can you get to that alcove without going through the pub?”

She turned her gaze on him. “Is that an issue?”

“It would be nice to not have everybody see what we’re doing.”

Understanding dawned. She stepped out in the hallway and took a look. “I used to run up and down this hall all the time.” She led them to the far back wall and a second staircase. “This is the one the staff uses.” She walked down a few steps, and there was a small landing. She stepped off to the side of it—a space the size of a broom closet. “This is where I stayed all the time.”

She bent down and peered through the lattice work. She pointed out the noisy pub below. “My dad sat below me. And I was up here.”

“Did you have Hadrid with you?” he asked in a low voice.

She shook her head. “No, Hadrid stayed outside.”

“And did he give warnings?”

She nodded. “Of course. That’s what his job was. It was to keep watch all the time.”

“And you weren’t down there in the main part of the pub because you were the lookout while your dad was meeting with some people?”

She nodded. “He often held his business while I was here. This is where he conducted his meetings.” She bent down lower, her fingers tracing scratches she’d made a long time ago. “I wrote my name here. See?”

He peered closer, and, sure enough, in the wood was her name. “What did you scratch it with?”

She frowned. “I’m not sure. Maybe a nail.”

He watched her work on her memories, dredging up fragments that were so close and yet so far away. He understood how frustrating it must be. “It was a long time ago. Don’t worry about it.” He studied the area, his fingers gently tapping along the walls. “Interesting. Could you have hidden something here?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know what. It’s a pretty small space.”

“What about any of the places up and down the hall? Did you ever go to any of the bedrooms? Or a closet?”

She turned to the closet a few steps up. “That holds the bedding for the guestrooms. I used to go in there and sleep,” she admitted. “But they didn’t like it when I did that.”

Hawk, standing at the top of the stairs, gave her a hard look, turned, and studied the closet beside him. He opened the door and said, “Where did you sleep?”

She pointed to the bottom. “I used to tuck in the back on the floor. It’s deep enough I could stretch out and sleep.”

He squatted down and then started to stand, only froze. Returning to his hands and knees, he pulled out a keepsake box she recognized. It matched the one she had at home. She watched as Hawk backed out slowly.

She gasped. “I know that box. I used to leave notes in there for my friend.”

Hawk straightened and closed the door, taking the box with him, while Eagle motioned her back up the stairs. “To the room, now.”

Safely inside her and Eagle’s room, the three of them stared at the box.

“Surely this couldn’t have been there the whole time?” she said.

“It was in the very back with other larger cardboard boxes. I only noticed it because I recognized the corner as similar to the picture Eagle sent me.”

*

Stefan sat cross-legged on the floor, a blank canvas in front of him. Not on an easel but flat on the floor. He took a deep breath and waited for the energy inside him to calm. He had no idea what he was supposed to paint. He only knew he had a persistent sensation that something was happening. Something bad. And he was supposed to do something about it. But he could help only so many people in the world. His ever-expanding network of skilled energy workers around the world was a miracle in itself. But—as the network increased in size, as they sent out messages far and wide—they got far more responses than they ever thought they’d get.

And it was taxing all of their energies, which he knew was foolish because the universe was full of energy. He should be able to tap into Mother Earth’s core at any time. But, at the moment, something was making extra strong demands. He didn’t know what. He sat for a long moment and then watched as his right hand reached once again for the black pencil.

He groaned. “Humbug, is that you? What’s changed?”

But a different cry was in his ear.

He twisted his head to look out the window. He could see the huge wingspan of a large falcon. But even as he watched the bird out the window, it faded and blended into the window, then separated. From that he could only assume the bird was dead, leaving behind a strong spirit here. Some people referred to these animals as spirit animals. Strong guardians over their human companions. Not companions in the real sense of the word but watching over those connected to them.

Like a psyche trying to return to its living, breathing form.

It reminded Stefan of his earlier experience, his first flight with the animals—or his first flight through a bird’s eye view. What a powerful event that had been. So powerful that his psyche willingly wanted to leave his body behind. Permanently. If it hadn’t been for Maddy, Tabitha, and his beloved Celina … He shook his head. Stay in the present moment, Stefan.