House of Salt and Sorrows - Erin A. Craig Page 0,128
Was Versia looking down on us right now, on this beautiful and clear summer solstice? From our perch on Old Maude, the sky seemed dizzyingly infinite, a sparkling forever. The stars twinkled with an extra amount of radiance, as if they too knew it.
A lump grew in my throat as I thought of my wish. I wanted Cassius here beside me on this exquisite perfection of a summer evening. Nights like this were meant to be shared, remembered, and talked about for years to come. Skies like this were made to be kissed under.
“What did you wish for?” Honor asked.
Verity shook her head. “You can’t tell or it won’t come true!”
Honor sighed and turned her face back up to the sky. “How long do you think it takes for the wishes to come back?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s part of the fun, isn’t it? Every time you see a shooting star, you can be happy because someone’s wish is being returned to them.”
We watched until the lanterns could no longer be distinguished from the stars.
“I hope my wish comes true first,” Honor said, rather uncharitably.
Mercy’s mouth dropped. “No, mine!”
“Bedtime,” I announced before a squabble could break out.
With minimal grumbling, the Graces headed back into the gallery, still sharp with the scent of fresh paint, and down the lighthouse’s inner spiral staircase. We marched back home, to our little cottage on the cliff, and they readied for bed. After a story and a kiss on their foreheads, each fell asleep with childlike swiftness, leaving me to my work as Keeper of the Light.
After that horrible night at Highmoor—as threads of Kosamaras’s false memories came back to my sisters—it became clear Old Maude would need a new Keeper, and quickly. Camille, as Duchess of Salann, gave me her blessing immediately, sending the Graces with me. With all the construction going on at Highmoor, they’d been hopelessly underfoot, and I think she was glad to have them out of her hair as she settled into her new position.
Now that the weather was warm again, Lenore visited often, bringing Hanna and baskets of treats from home. Each time she came, her eyes looked a little less haunted, a little more present. During her last stay, she’d mentioned she was thinking of leaving Highmoor once the renovation was complete. She wanted to stay and help Camille but felt trapped under the weight of memories. She didn’t know where she wanted to go but was excited to discover more of Arcannia.
I understood how she felt. I’d always love my childhood home, but I was glad to be free of it. Though the work on Hesperus was often hard, I felt flush with purpose and woke each day with a happy heart. I often imagined Cassius working alongside me, hauling oil for the flame, tracking ships and the tides. His absence lingered, filling me with an ache deeper than anything I’d ever known. I knew I’d spend the rest of my life pining for him.
As I made my way back to Old Maude, a friendly breeze played with my braid, inviting me to go off course. It was too pretty a night to go back inside just yet. On our afternoon walk, we’d spotted several sea turtle nests on the beach, great mounds nearly as wide as Verity was tall. The sand on top of them shifted as we watched. The hatchlings would soon be ready to go out to sea.
Wandering down to the black sands, I kicked off my shoes. The warm waves washed over my bare feet, tugging at the thin linen of my dress, pulling me out to deeper water. Cicadas hummed in the trees farther inland, competing with the soft lapping of water against the shore. I closed my eyes and drank in the wonder of this night. The ocean’s brine filled my nose, my lungs, my whole being, and I breathed it all in, completely at peace.
A disturbance in the water broke me from my reverie, and I opened my eyes in time to see a shooting star streak across the dark sky. I smiled as it raced toward the horizon. Some lucky person was about to have their wish returned to them. Hearing another splash, I turned, hoping to see a little army of hatchlings making their way down the beach and into the waves.
I froze, spotting a tall figure standing ankle-deep in the water, silver starlight caught in his wayward curls.