Across the black water, the old lighthouse blinked twice. Then it went dark. Mara stood on the dock and stared. That light had no business working. The town said no one had unlocked the lighthouse door in over forty years, and no one had climbed up to light the lamp. Yet there it was, flashing. Mara grabbed her flashlight and her coat. She had to know who, or what, was up there.

Mara decided not to go alone. She ran to wake old Pete, the only person in town who had actually known the last keeper. Pete opened his door in his robe, took one look at her face, and sighed. 'You saw the light too, didn't you,' he said.

Pete pulled on his boots and rowed Mara across himself. 'The last keeper was my best friend,' he said. 'He vanished one winter. Never found him. I always wondered if he just didn't want to be found.' The light flashed twice above them as they reached the rock.

At the top, they found no one, just a wall covered in carved tally marks counting the days. Pete touched the latest mark. The cut was fresh. 'He was here,' Pete breathed. 'Today.' A door at the back of the room stood slightly open, leading down to caves they never knew existed.