Page 12 of Leafpoint Lighthouse

I needed answers, and now!

Lyra

Just as I was finishing for the day, I heard a noise and stopped. I could have sworn I could hear singing. Glancing around, completely confused, I frowned. It had sounded like a sea shanty.

“Is someone here?” I called. The door was locked; there was no other way in. There was no other sound, and I shook myself, laughing. Damn, I was as nervous as a cat on a hot tin roof.

“Get a grip, Lyra Jasper. It’s because of the state of the lighthouse, you’re imagining things,” I muttered to myself.

“Jasper?” I swear someone said, and without a second thought, I scurried away. It was getting late; I was stressed and worried and clearly not working with all cylinders firing. In the morning, after a good night’s sleep, everything would look better.

When I returned to the hotel, Thea was already there.

“How was your day?” she asked.

“People are damn rude in the supermarket,” I replied.

Thea snorted. “They ignored you too?”

“No,” I explained what happened, and Thea’s eyes went wide.

“Wow, terrible service! That sucks. So is Leafpoint in a poor condition like Seareef is?”

“Yes. The entire building needs a thorough clean.”

“Same. I spent a fortune on cleaning stuff today. Guess it’s good I didn’t get my manicure done.” Thea waggled her fingers, and I snorted at her short nails.

“Yup. What’s happening about food? I’m hungry. Should we find a restaurant or check if Mrs Penrose will let us order takeaway?”

“No need, my dears, I’ve cooked a stew and fresh bread too. There’s a nasty storm coming in tonight.” Mrs Penrose looked out of a window and flinched.

“Didn’t you say the council lighthouses don’t work?” I asked, looking out at the developing bad weather.

“Yes, they collapsed or are in a state of disrepair,” Mrs Penrose admitted.

“What about the ships out at sea?” Thea demanded, sitting up.

“The coastguard issued alerts during yesterday evening, plus this morning,” Mrs Penrose remarked.

“What about a fire or something?” I asked.

“No, dear, in this rain, we’d never get it lit. Leafpoint shall light the way. We can only pray and hope their captains heed the warning.”

My stomach sank; I glanced out the window. “Wait, did you say the Leafpoint was active?”

“Yes.”

“But there’s no one there, Mrs Penrose. I’ve been there twice. The only footsteps in the dust belonged to me. Plus, I checked the lantern room as well; it’s oil-lit, not electric.”

Mrs Penrose squeezed my shoulders. “Lyra, Leafpoint and the other three will light the sky tonight. Since Boxing Day, they’ve been working again. Every night, since the council-run ones collapsed, the Jasper lighthouses have protected ships and warned sailors away from death.”

I swapped glances with Thea and had never felt so helpless. Perhaps I wasn’t cut out for this.

William

I hauled the canteen through the hatch and filled the oil bowl. Around me the storm broke, and rain lashed the windows. Like all lighthouse keepers, I sensed it in my gut. There was a ship floundering out there. Within a moment, I lit the Argand lamp, and the beacon shot out, a warning to sailors to stay away. I wiped down the fogged-up glass and waited. Minutes later Seareef’s light followed, and then Clamshell’s, and finally Kingfisher’s.

Shoulders relaxing, I turned back to the sea. The storm’s ferocity was increasing, and tonight would be hazardous. The ship might sink, but at least it would be able to steer clear of the dangerous shoreline. Deep below me, wickedness stirred, almost gleeful until it realised I’d lit the lamp. Yes, I might be deceased, but I wouldn’t neglect my duty.