Page 3 of Beacon

“But Mother said—”

“She loves both you and your stories dearly.” Father gave me a reassuring snuggle. “Now come say goodbye; I want there to be peace between you before she leaves.”

He said nothing more and simply gave me another loving squeeze before departing. I watched him disappear down the spiraling steps, listening to the echo of his footsteps growing fainter and fainter until I was left in silence.

It took me several minutes to decide to follow him. I tiptoed down the stairs, careful not to make any noise so I wouldn’t be detected as I gauged Mother’s mood to ensure she truly wanted to see me before she left. After several turns on the stairs, I slowed near the bottom at the sound of Mother and Father’s hushed voices.

“I’m not sure I can go,” Mother said. “You saw the way Marisa lost control over her magic when her mood overcame her. What if—”

“It’ll be alright.” Father’s tone was soothing and reassuring, and even though I couldn’t see them, I could imagine the way he always gently cupped her chin to calm her when she worried.

“How can you be so sure?”

“She’s still so young. She’ll gain better control as she grows older.”

Mother took a steadying breath. “You’re right, of course. I just worry. There’s still so much we don’t know about her magic—where it came from, what she can use it for…not to mention her powers are developing at an increasing rate. I’m afraid to leave her for so long.”

“I’ll watch over her,” Father assured her.

“Are you worried at all?”

He hesitated. “I confess that the mystery behind them makes me wary, but they bring her so much joy. Thus I have faith that all will be well.”

“Butwillit?” Mother was silent another anxious moment more. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to have her help you with the lighthouse? She’s still so irresponsible…”

I’d heard enough. I crept back up the stairs, no longer wanting to say goodbye. Instead I curled up in my favorite spot at the top between the beacon and the tall windows, careful not to lean against the glass; the lighthouse panes had to remain spotless in order to better allow the light to shine through.

I stared down at my hands, examining them from front to back. I hummed one of the soft tunes that the water responded to at my command whenever I was near it, even as the conversation I’d overheard gnawed at my thoughts.

Whatever her worries, my powers weren’t a cause for concern. They’d been a part of me for as long as I could remember, just like my earliest memories, all of the sea—the way the early morning light glistened off its surface, the salty breeze that rose from the water, the feel of sand between my toes and the cold waves rolling across my feet…and the first moment I felt the magic stir within me when I touched the ocean. It’d swelled within my breast and tingled my hands, begging for release. But for years it’d remained trapped inside…until I discovered music.

Since then, developing my powers had come as naturally as learning to speak, for with speech came song, which affected any water I touched. Each melody created a unique effect, each one enchanting and beautiful. How could Mother be so concerned over something that had brought me nothing but joy?

I was torn from my thoughts at the sudden movement below. My perch provided a clear view of both the surrounding ocean and the shore, so I was able to watch as Mother walked outside and Father followed to embrace her. As if sensing my gaze, Mother glanced up amid his embrace and our eyes met. She watched me a moment before blowing me a kiss and turning to walk down the path that led to the village.

Anxiousness swelled as I watched her depart, even as foreboding knotted my stomach so tightly that I almost felt ill. I sprang to my feet and nearly tripped over my skirts in my haste down the stairs and out the door, where I careened into Father.

“Whoa, careful, Starfish. Your mother just left.” He looked disapproving, undoubtedly because I’d missed my opportunity to tell her goodbye.

I tightened my jaw in determination. Iwouldn’tmiss my opportunity. I ducked beneath his arm and hurried down the cobblestone path that led from our lighthouse towards the village.

I hadn’t made it very far when I encountered a fork in the road. I slowed, nibbling my lip as I stared down the two paths twisting off in opposite directions. Which way did I go? I’d only accompanied my parents to the village the few times I’d gone to school or visited the market, leaving the route unfamiliar when I was by myself.

I examined each path carefully for anything I recognized, even as my anxiety increased with how much time I was wasting deliberating. Was it the left path? No, it was the right; I was certain of it. I ran down that one, ignoring the turns I could take along the way—until it ended at the clearing where the town woodsman lived. Frustrated, I realized I must have missed a turn and had to backtrack. But none of the side paths were right, and it didn’t take long to realize I’d chosen the wrong road. It took me nearly a half hour to get back to the main fork and turn the right way, costing me more time I didn’t have.

I muttered one of Father’s favorite curses, grateful neither he nor Mother were around to hear it. I swiveled around and hurried back up the road until I managed to find the fork. This time I took the left path. The long detour had only added to Mother’s head start, one where my shorter legs already left me at a disadvantage.

But I pressed on, hurrying along the path as it twisted parallel to the shore before veering towards the bustling village. In the distance I could see the ship’s billowing sails, peeking through the gaps between the buildings.

I paused at the gate to clutch at a stitch in my side and scan the crowd. Not only was there no sign of Mother but the clusters of shops, houses, and market stalls made the village one giant labyrinth, one that would take ages to navigate in order to reach the dock in time. But I would; Ihadto.

I only lingered to catch my breath and to ask a nearby vendor the way to the dock before I took off again, weaving around people and stalls as quickly as I could. I arrived at the dock just as the anchor was being lifted and the ship sailed from the harbor. Defeated, I sank onto the dock’s rough planks and watched the ship sail farther and farther away.

I’d missed Mother.

The horizon blurred with my tears as I stared after her. I was still staring out across the sea an hour later after the ship had become nothing but a speck in the distance when Father found me. He rested a comforting hand on my shoulder, which did little to prevent my sob from escaping.

“I missed her.”

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