Celeste sighed. As much as she told herself that she didn’t resent the fact she’d been chosen for this task, it was occasionally difficult not to let her thoughts wander to what might have been, had she not been the one who was chosen.
She might not have found it so difficult to keep her thoughts in check if it hadn’t been for what had happened only a few weeks before she was due to seal herself away in here, to not want for anything else in her life except to carry on the duty her family had been entrusted with.
If not for that, maybe I wouldn’t have any regrets at all…Celeste thought, before, quickly, firmly, she forced herself not to think about it anymore.
She’d gotten pretty good at that – not letting herself think about what she’d missed out on all those years ago.
If she wanted romance in her life, she had a treasure trove of books for that, everything from genteel regency-era literature to the most erotically charged bodice-rippers the 1980s had to offer, with as many bare-chested pirates and heaving bosoms as anyone could ever want. She couldn’t, after all, have asked any man to share her burden – especially not any man she truly loved. She’d been prepared since she was a little girl for it, but to spring it on someone, no matter how much she loved them? Someone who didn’t even know that magic – and what her magic protected – existed?
That, she would never do. Celeste could never have asked someone to cast off their entire life and join her here in the lighthouse for the rest of their lives.
Who would have chosen that, anyway?she thought, sighing. It was too much to ask of anyone.
And so, in the end, she hadn’t.
But she’d never stopped thinking, stoppeddreaming –
But I can’t think about that right now,Celeste told herself firmly, cutting the thought off quickly.
Whatever had happened in the past had been just that: the past. There was no point in getting all maudlin about it now.
And it wasn’t as if her life wasmiserable,anyway. She had her books, she had her purpose, her duty. And once a month, during the time of year when the weather wasn’t too wild, she could take a boat over to the island to stock up on supplies of the canned food she needed to get her through the winter months and get the fresh food she ate during spring and summer, so it wasn’t as if sheneverhad anyone to talk to.
The locals of the island knew her by her cover story – she was just an eccentric author, who needed complete solitude to do her work. She’d inherited the lighthouse from her great aunt – that part, at least, was completely truthful – but other than her trips into town to do her food shopping and to pick up a new book when nothing in the library was tempting her, she was a recluse.
It actually sounded like a pretty nice life when she thought about it, Celeste had to admit. And the people of the town seemed almost proud of having their very own eccentric living in a lighthouse, and always treated her with curiosity but kindness when she came into town, asking her how her work was going, or if she’d ever written a bestseller, or if anyone would ever make a movie of her books.
Of course, Celeste couldn’t tell them what she wasreallydoing out there – if she tried to explain to them about magic or wards or the secret of what was living under the rock on which her lighthouse sat, she’d be upgraded fromharmlesslocal eccentrictocertifiable lunatic– so she usually just smiled and nodded and said things were coming along pretty well.
But now, they weren’t.
Not with the books, of course, which didn’t really exist anyway, but with the magical wards she was supposed to be guarding and maintaining.
And she hadabsolutely no idea why.
The tremors, when they’d first started, had barely been noticeable – Celeste had thought they were nothing more than especially strong gusts of wind rattling the windows. But then she’d noticed… oddities in the magic wards. She’d been here for long enough that sheknewwhat they were supposed to feel like, without even really having to put much thought into it.
Magic was hard to explain to people who couldn’t use it – Celeste had tried to tell her parents about it once when she’d been a girl, just after she’d gotten back from her first stay with Great Aunt Marian to learn how to channel her powers effectively.
It’s like a light, but you can’t really see it,she’d said.You can only feel it, like you have your eyes closed, but you still know the sun is shining. It’s like that! If the sun went behind a cloud, you’d still know it, even if you were inside or you weren’t looking at it.
Her parents had nodded and said they understood, but Celeste had known they hadn’t really – and she couldn’t blame them. Really, her explanation hadn’t reallyexplainedvery much at all. But that genuinelywaswhat it felt like, especially here where the wards were at their strongest – or should have been, anyway.
Right now, things were definitelynotas they should have been; it was as if the sun had gone behind a cloud, and then it had just never come back out again. The glow of the magic that Celeste had felt warmly against her skin every day since she’d come here had cooled and dimmed, and nothing she could do seemed to bring it back.
And now, the tremors were getting worse.
If the magic dims completely, then the – the thing that lives down there won’t have anything to restrain it,Celeste thought with a cold shiver.
She’d done everything her Great Aunt Marian had ever taught her about maintaining the wards to make sure they stayed strong. She’d pored over the books in the library that dealt with things like this, books that had been handed down for generations, and which had never failed all the previous guardians who had lived on this rock, long before the lighthouse had been built.
But nothing had worked – nothing seemed to make them strong again, and if something didn’t change soon, Celeste didn’t know what she was going to do.
In the end, she’d done the only thing shecoulddo: she’d sent a desperate message to her Uncle Gordon, who wasn’ttechnicallyher uncle… well, she supposed, somehow, in her twisted family tree he wassomerelation to her, andunclewas probably the closest thing to it. In any case, he was respected and well-known amongst humans who could use magic as the wisest and most learned of them all. He spent his days shut up in research, looking into ancient history and absorbing everything there was to know about magic. Ifhedidn’t know what the problem was, then it was likely no one did.
Celeste had written down everything she could in her letter to try to explain the situation, even though she didn’t really understand it herself despite all her long years of living here. When she’d sent the letter, she hadn’t known if she’d receive a reply, despite her trying to be as clear as possible about how dangerous and desperate the situation was becoming.
But to her surprise, Uncle Gordon’s reply had been relatively swift – and very much to the point:I will be there in one and a half weeks. I will meet you in the town.
