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“I just meant we should be able to find it by Monday,” I murmured, struggling to avoid sounding like an annoying little brother.
She tsked, setting a jar of jam on the table. “They need a weatherwitch, so I doubt I’ll have the luxury of leaving any time soon.”
Her detached attitude gave my concerns little to hang onto. The stove’s steady heat had warmed the air enough for me to realize my hands and feet were numb from the damp cold. “Did you feel the spell?”
Her busy hands stilled. “What spell?”
“When we arrived. The spell that had been wrapped around this place.”
“You felt it too?” A frown creasing her brow, she went back to disemboweling the bag, lifting out a jar of green beans and another of tomatoes.
I rubbed my hands together, grimacing at the prickles that meant my fingers were warming. Everyone we’d met had discouraged us from coming here. Perhaps that spell was part of the reason. “When our boat first grounded, the house was wrapped in darkness. When Mrs. Gallagher gave us permission to come closer, I felt a pop and the darkness lifted.”
Miss Barnes’ grim expression likely mirrored my own.
“Some kind of concealment spell. Either that or one for protection.”
“There’s no one here who could have set such a spell.” Mrs. Gallagher came through the door behind me. I spun toward her, unable to disguise my gasp of surprise.
“Don’t go looking for trouble, you two,” she said, pushing past me. “Now what’s all this?” She waved at the food Miss Barnes had unpacked.
“We didn’t want to put you out any more than absolutely necessary,” I said.
“Good. The stuff Barnard brought won’t feed four people for long. You’d best plan on heading back to Seattle on the Monday boat.”
Miss Barnes and I shared a glance. I could only hope my expression didn’t show how eager I was to do just that.
“I don’t expect you’ll be able to run the lighthouse for long without a weatherwitch.” Miss Barnes spoke with an admirable level of composure.
Somehow Miss Barnes’ argument added even more heaviness to Mrs. Gallagher’s worn features. “Let me worry about how to run the lighthouse. I’ve been doing it long enough.”
“Our notes say that Mr. Gallagher was the weatherwitch.” I spoke without thinking.
“He…was.” The pause hinted that she had trouble referring to him in the past.
Miss Barnes’ smile was a fine balance between caring and determination. “Then I’d be happy to keep storms at bay until a more permanent arrangement can be made.
Mrs. Gallagher clenched her fists and for a moment her jaw worked. Then, with a sigh, she gave in. “As you like. It won’t take you long to regret that offer.”
Her words carried an undercurrent of something close to fear, reinforcing that notion. Wondering how long it would take for us to learn what she was afraid of, I retrieved my hat from the bedroom and headed outside.
In all honesty, I wanted to find a trail through the woods.There must be another way to escape. The rain had diminished to a faint mist, and I took the time to really get a sense of the place.
The lighthouse had been built on a stony spit, surrounded on three sides by water. Behind the house, the land rose sharply in a forested bluff that permitted little to escape.
Every ten seconds, the tower’s light flashed, as if the building itself had a pulse. The tower itself wasn’t particularly tall, rising above the building’s roof by only a story. A round windowed chamber surrounded the lamp itself, and a narrow porch with a railing encircled that chamber. I didn’t see a ladder, so there must be a stairwell inside. Taller than tower was the flagpole, the empty cables slapping in the wind.
Behind the tower, furthest from the ocean’s rage, was the house where the Gallaghers lived and where we’d be staying. The third and smallest section butted up against the rocky shore and would likely catch the worst when a storm hit. Curiosity almost drove me to sneak into that small room, but something held me back. Neither Gallagher had been particularly welcoming, and while I’d need to search everywhere, I didn’t want to be told I could swim back to the city tonight.
For a moment I simply watched the light flash on and off. Such a lonely place. So cold. Though when I left this place on Monday, Madame Munro wouldn’t welcome me home. Heck, maybe I could join up with some other fellows and try my luck in the Yukon.
A gust of wind reminded me that we’d left San Francisco in mid-October and that the weather was only going to get colder. A trip to the Yukon might be out, but surely there were other places to stay out of sight, even in an infant city like Seattle. Because sure as shootin’ I didn’t want to stay on this dreary little spit of land any longer than absolutely necessary.
Chapter Four
Rather than return to that barren little house, I decided to explore the forest. I produced a small witchlight, a simple magic that almost all of us can perform, and followed the line of the shore on the south side of the lighthouse.
The beach went on further than I expected, but eventually my progress was blocked by the encroaching forest. The thick pine scent woke something within me, as if the trees themselves could feed my magic.
