AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Bring a few pieces of wood that I can use to make the rest.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Alone in the tower, I tried to imagine who could have done this. Had someone snuck in while we were aiding Rutger? No one should have survived that storm, yet since Rutger had, perhaps there was someone we missed.
Theremusthave been someone we missed. Someone from the Witches’ Council, who’d managed to both survive the storm and escape our notice. Oliver Stevenson was a waterwitch. He would have the power to navigate the waves, despite the storm.
But did he want to cause Rafe and Della trouble for neglecting to keep the lighthouse burning or was this an attempt to distract us from finding the amulet?
Neither thought was particularly comforting. We’d need to work quickly, before the interloper could cause any more trouble.
Sighing, I said, “we should get started.”
“If you can make things that are the right shape,” he said, “I’ll add a spell to fix them in place.”
I nodded, happy to have my thoughts redirected. “We’ll get the light running and then we can all look for the interloper.”
“And the amulet.”
Rafe’s reminder had me gritting my teeth. We were down to our last day.
“The system is really quite simple.” Rafe began. “The winding mechanism draws a ten-foot weighted cable up the shaft and then releases it. The system is balanced so that as the weight sinks, it rotates a clip that triggers the light every ten seconds or so.”
“And it’s the crank that was burned?”
“The crank and its connection to the light fixture.” He opened small box. “I didn’t think to check for the weight at the bottom of the shaft. The cable is twisted metal, so it wouldn’t burn, although the spell may have snapped it.”
“Let me look.” Leaving him to unpack his tools, I jogged up the stairs.
No one was in the tower, although the silence had a heavy, watching feel. Climbing the steps, the hairs on the back of my neck rose, and I fully expected to see Martin Gallagher or some other apparition when I reached the top.
I did not.
“Hurry, Vincent,” he called from the stairwell.
Rafe’s impatience tightened the tension in my shoulders. Gritting my teeth, I took stock of the situation as quickly as possible. The lamp itself appeared to be intact, the bulbs unbroken and their mirrored scrim in one piece. The base, however, was scorched, and the hand crank that wound the weighted cable was a pile of charred debris.
That actually helped me, because the top of the shaft was now open. At first all I saw was darkness, so I made a witchlight and sent it down.
The light moved alongside the cable, a thick metal rope maybe two inches in diameter. It reached the spot where the cable’s fractured end splayed out. The weight must have fallen to the floor.
I ran back downstairs to find the base of the shaft. It was behind the stairs and, as Rafe had expected, there was no opening. “I need a handsaw.”
“Why?” Rafe sounded more distracted than truly argumentative.
“The weight is at the bottom of the shaft. I need to cut through the wood.”
“I’m not sure…”
“A piece of wood will do.”
He handed me a small piece of wood. “I’m going upstairs. We need to work faster.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Your best is never good enough.
Closing my eyes, I forced that voice into a corner of my mind. I didn’t have time for foolishness.
