Page 47 of The Lord's Compass
She walked over to the wall, her nightgown trailing along the floor behind her.
“Do you recall the painting thatDonRaphael was confused about?” she asked, recognition lighting in her eyes.
“I do.”
“Thatwas why it looked so familiar – it was the painting that had been on this wall since we arrived. It was replaced. With this.”
“But why?” he asked. “Who would do that if it wasn’tDonRaphael? And what is this?”
“I wish I had answers, but I am afraid I only have the same questions as you,” she said. “As for what it is, it looks almost like a map, but of no place that I recognize. Do you think it could be somewhere nearby? There are no hills, though. And it doesn’t look like the Bay, although it does appear to be a body of water.”
“Do you think this is what the intruder last night was looking for?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Whoever was here last night was looking in my belongings. I am sure of it.”
He lifted his head toward her. “Did you tellDonRaphael about anything of note that you had brought with you?”
She rubbed her eyes, and he could tell she was trying to clear the fog.
“I do not think so… wait!” she stopped, turning to him with wide eyes. “The journals.”
“Journals?”
“I told him that my great-grandmother had written in journals. Perhaps that was what he was looking for.”
“Ah, that’s right. If he is looking for the same treasure that we are, perhaps he thinks that these fictional journals contain a clue.”
“And if it wasDonRaphael that was in my room last night, now he knows that we might not be who we say we are.”
“We need to solve this.”
“How?”
“I have the necklace piece,” Eric said, holding up a finger. “Stay here.”
“Where else would I go?” she asked with a laugh, but he ignored her as he was already moving to his room, searching through his belongings until he found what he was looking for – the small piece of the necklace.
He returned, holding it up to the map, sensing Faith walking over to him, looking over his shoulder.
“You’re breathing on me,” he said, shivering, and she stepped back.
“Sorry,” she said. “I’m just excited.”
“Here,” he said, holding it out to her. “You look first.”
“Are you sure?” she said with some hesitation, although she took the piece from his palm.
“Very.”
She lifted the necklace piece in front of the painting, peering through it to determine what exactly might be in front of her. Eric watched with eager anticipation, willing his patience to persevere.
At that moment, the sun rose high enough to shine through the window, its light catching the stone within the necklace piece and reflecting off of it to glimmer around the room.
“That’s it,” he breathed. “Bring it closer to your face.”
“Like this?” she asked, holding it to her eye.
“Yes,” he said, wishing he could look through with her. “What do you see?”
