Page 40 of Thunder Road

“Looks like it’s been here a while,” Vic observed.

“Built in 1801, rebuilt several times between storms and the Civil War,” Simon explained. “The island used to have homes on it and then a pier and a pavilion for outings. Storms took out the homes, and a fire destroyed the pavilion. Now it’s a game preserve. Tourists can’t go up in the lighthouse or even land on the island. But I’ve got tickets for a boat tour that gets as close as we’re allowed to go.”

The breeze off the ocean made Simon grateful for his light jacket. They parked with time enough to use the restroom and get coffee before the boat left the dock. It was the first trip of the day, and only two other couples were on the tour.

“I’ve never done a tour like this,” Vic yelled over the sound of the boat and the wind. “I always wanted to.”

“I wish we had time to do some tours for fun when we go to the Charleston lighthouse.”

“Are there any places in Charleston where the tours aren’t haunted? I’d like you to actually be relaxed,” Vic replied, and Simon recalled a few times when ghosts had pestered him during an entire tour, trying to correct misinformation from the tour guides.

“Probably not. But that’s okay. I’m enough of a history nerd to put up with the ghosts.” Standing close to Vic against the wind, Simon closed his eyes and felt the sting of the salt air. The tour guide gave details about the city’s history and busy harbor, filling them in as they motored out to the island where the lighthouse stood overlooking the bay. “Maybe we can take a quick trip when the case is over.”

“When we get closer to the lighthouse, I’m going to let you listen for anything interesting in the monologue while I try to tune in and see what vibes I get from the lighthouse itself,” Simon told Vic.

“If no one is allowed on the island—let alone in the building—how is it going to work to renew the protections?” Vic’s voice was barely loud enough to carry above the wind.

“Father Anne and Teag are figuring that out.

The lighthouse loomed large against the blue sky. Simon closed his eyes and sent his psychic feelers in the direction of the structure.

He felt the relentless buffeting of storms and the drench of cold water. Winds howled and waves crashed. He caughtglimpses of past keepers and sensed that the ghosts of at least two people, a man and a young girl, still haunted the lighthouse.

He pushed deeper with his senses, beyond the faces and lives of the people who had kept the flame, past the storms and shipwrecks, following a thread of power that illuminated the lighthouse with an old, resilient presence, an essential type of ancient magic.

The thread had grown faint, faded with the deaths of its keepers, but Simon could still make it out, linking the main lights together, protecting residents from storms both physical and supernatural.

He came back to himself with a start. Vic laid a hand on his arm, stilling him and reminding Simon there were other people nearby. Simon nodded in acknowledgment, thinking over what he had sensed as the tour guide continued his storytelling.

When they returned to the pier, Vic tipped the guide and led the way off the boat, keeping close to Simon. “Well?” he asked once the group that had sailed with them dispersed.

“There’s still power associated with the light, as well as a couple of faded ghosts,” Simon told him. “If it’s like that with the other lighthouses, it may be more a matter of restoring the magic than starting over. I think the spells sank deep enough into the land and the structure that they’re just waiting for a power boost.”

“That would be good, right?”

“It’s usually easier to improve something than start over from nothing,” Simon replied.

“Next up is Cape Romain.” Vic checked the map.

“It’s another one you can only get to by boat,” Simon told him. “Two brick towers from the mid-1800s. There’s a legend that one of the keepers murdered his wife and buried her on the island, and people say you can hear footsteps inside.”

The regular tour only went to the island once a month, but Simon had hired a private boat to take them as close as possible.

“It’s pretty here.” Vic watched a heron take flight. “Lots of birds. Peaceful.”

“I wouldn’t want to be out here in a bad storm. There’s nothing between you and the water.” Simon appreciated the view as the boat drew closer. This time, he picked up discordant vibrations.

Simon squirmed in his seat. Vic picked up on the uneasiness immediately. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t know if the legend about the murder is true, but there are bad vibes. Depression, isolation, instability. I’m guessing more than one of the live-in keepers didn’t deal well with being alone. Definitely haunted, and the ghosts are restless,” Simon replied.

“Glad we don’t have to go up in it. How will that affect a new guardian?”

The brief tour ended, and Simon pushed a windswept lock of hair out of his eyes. They headed back to their car. “That was one of the reasons I wanted to see the lighthouses myself so I could match the guardian with the site. This one needs someone with skill and power. I’m hoping Father Anne has someone from her group in mind.”

“Let’s go find some grub,” Vic said. “Sea air makes me hungry.”

Simon felt a shift, and everything went quiet. The light took on an odd reddish glow although it was close to noon. It took him seconds to realize that the world had gone silent around him—no birds singing, waves pounding, or wind rushing past.

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