Page 34 of Thunder Road

The coffee maker beeped, and Ross got up to refill their cups. He snagged them both a couple of cookies from a tray before coming back.

“But there aren’t lighthouse keepers anymore,” Ross pointed out.

“I don’t think that running the lighthouse is the main point or that automating the light matters,” Vic replied. “Simon’s still figuring it out, so I could be wrong, but I think it’s having someone at those places with strong energy keeping theprotections fresh that counts. The places of power are ancient, but it’s pretty common, I guess, for people to pick up on that subliminally and build a church, a shrine, or some sort of protection on the site.”

“Which came first—the lighthouse or the protections?”

Vic shrugged. “There might have been other wardings in place before the lighthouses that have been forgotten. After all, when they were built people didn’t think they’d ever be automated. The modern world is always changing. That can make it rough to deal with an ancient threat that stays the same.”

Ross seemed to consider his next question for a moment before speaking. “How come it took magic to work the wardings instead of any of the religious organizations?”

For all its reputation as a place for fun and frolic, the state had deep and active religious ties, making their absence notable.

“We don’t know for sure that they haven’t been involved,” Vic pointed out. “Simon talked with Father Anne, and she’s working through her channels. All it takes is for an elderly priest to die and not have a successor, and then there’s no one to pick up the slack. It would have been easy back in the day to pass a blessing ritual off as asking for protection for the coast in the locations where the lighthouses were later built.”

“Okay. Good point. I hope you’re right.” Ross ran a hand back through his hair and munched a cookie. “I need a break. Totally changing the subject here—at least for a little bit. How’s married life working for you?” Ross had been part of Simon and Vic’s wedding party and an enthusiastic supporter of their marriage.

“It’s not as big of a shift as I expected,” Vic confessed. “Maybe it was back in the day when people didn’t live together. I already knew that he squeezes the toothpaste tube in the middle and snores when he has a bad cold.”

Ross laughed. “Yes, but how about folding towels? Both edges turned inside, or a z-fold? It’s the little things that matter.”

“Whoever’s turn it is to do the laundry gets to pick.” Vic pulled a granola bar from his lunch bag, saving the cookie for afterward. “Don’t forget, we both lived on our own for years, so we already learned how to keep body and soul together. And since we’re both guys, there aren’t expectations about whose job it is to do one thing or another.”

“I never thought about that,” Ross admitted. “Sheila and I figured we were being very progressive making up our own agreements about who did what. And for a lot of stuff, we just take turns. Or whoever is best at it gets stuck with the chore. We learned the hard way that beats making the person who’s all thumbs do something they aren’t good at.”

“Did anything surprise you about being married?” Vic washed down a bite of his bar with coffee.

“At first? How many little things you never think to talk about because you assume everyone does them the way you do, and they don’t,” Ross said. “What’s familiar isn’t always what works best. Later on—how good it is when you settle into a rhythm and work together without even thinking about it.”

Vic smiled. “Yeah, I like creating our own routines. They might not suit everyone, but they work for us. It’s just seamless. Maybe that’s part of how you know you got the right one.”

Ross rolled his eyes. “As if any idiot couldn’t see that both of you besotted fools weren’t over the moon for each other.”

“Were we that obvious?”

“Ask Cap. Hell, ask the precinct. There was even a betting pool on how long it would take for the two of you to wise up and make it official.”

“Seriously?” Vic wasn’t sure whether to be horrified or a little flattered.

“It was clear as day to everyone except you two.”

They chatted about vacations and the holidays as they finished lunch, and Vic got up to stretch. He dialed Simon, who answered right away.

“Hey, what’s up?” Simon asked.

“I think the troll is breaking the truce,” Vic told him. Simon remained silent. “Uh, say something?”

“I was going to call you and say the same thing,” Simon replied. “Fill me in.”

Vic gave him the results from the research he and Ross had done. When he finished, Simon shared what he had learned from Ricky.

“You told me once that supernatural creatures can be picky about the details of agreements,” Vic said. “Does that apply to trolls?”

“That’s one of the things I’ve asked Father Anne to look into,” Simon replied. “No one does fine print like the fay and the old ones. But even if the troll thinks it found a loophole, that might not automatically work in its favor. And if it has broken the agreement, restoring the lighthouse protections to bind it would be completely legit.”

“Are there supernatural lawyers? Because this sounds like stuff we go to court over,” Vic asked.

“There are tribunals and barristers—everything tends to have old-fashioned terms,” Simon replied. “The good news is that containment in the face of clear harm is a recognized cause to take action, so we don’t need permission. That’s how monster hunters operate without getting bogged down in the system.”

---