Ash appears just as relaxed as he did a minute ago, but the look in his eyes has become sharper and more serious. “In that case, I’ll trade you everything you know about Christopher in exchange for a drop-off location of Owl-Lion communication.”

For a couple of seconds, Logan is silent. He looks from Ash to me and back again. I hold my breath.

Logan drops his hammering tool on the worktable with a loud clang. “Which one?”

I exhale, relieved that he didn’t say no.

“The one in Edinburgh,” Ash says, and I can hear in his voice that he knows his offer is a good one. But there’s also something strained about his eyes, like it physically pains him to give up this information.

Logan grunts. “Convenient.”

“Absolutely,” Ash says.

Logan grips the worktable in front of him with callused, sooty hands. “This is a trade, not a guessing game. Out with it.”

I suppose that’s one way to say you accept terms.

The slightest smile appears on Ash’s lips. “The drop-off location is just off the Royal Mile.”

“Christopher’s in London,” Logan snaps back, and my chest feels like it might explode. London is huge and finding someone who doesn’t want to be found will be more than challenging, but just the same I cling to his words. My dad is close.

“Nearby or inside Greyfriars Kirkyard,” Ash says.

Logan nods, like so far the information he’s getting is acceptable. “Jag’s son-in-law was murdered a month ago in Edinburgh,” he says in exchange.

“One of the ghost tour guides is an Owl. She facilitates the drop-off,” Ash says, and their interaction reminds me of a Ping-Pong match.

“Christopher is suspected of killing him,” Logan says, and I fight to keep my eyes from widening in shock.

A month ago? No way. My dad was home in Pembrook…My shoulders tense as I remember his quiet behavior, concerned looks, and frequent trips to visit Aunt Jo. He couldn’t be involved. My dad wouldn’t kill someone…would he? I relax my body just as Logan glances at me.

“Find the tour guide and you find the drop-off location. She switches the placement of it every time,” Ash says, and there is a beat.

I look from Ash to Logan and they are both oddly still, that is until Logan turns to meet my gaze.

Logan wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. “I have to say, I think I got a lot more than I gave in that trade.”

“Then you should be grateful for your good luck,” Ash says, and there’s an edge to his tone that wasn’t there before.

“See, even that response,” Logan says, gesturing at Ash, “makes me wonder…”

He and Ash stare at each other, neither of their faces giving anything away.