Corvus (Stars and Sails, Book 1)

Twenty-eight (Part 3 of 3)

Aiden and Silas Noble tied up their horses at the lighthouse. There was the faint smell of horses and saltwater in the air. It was hard to tell which overpowered the other.

The lighthouse was hours away from making rotations, but Aiden's eyes couldn't stop feeling a memory trapped somewhere between his neck and skull. It tasted like rust and metal. It felt like frostbite—like it might leave his brain black and necrotic if he tried to remember anything else.

Aiden walked up to the lighthouse until it was only an arm's length away. Last night's chill was still trapped somewhere inside the white brick. He could feel it swimming and drowning in the heat.

After they hitched the horses, Silas Noble stopped in front of the door with Aiden. "Do you care about Aydesreve?"

Aiden drew in a shallow breath and looked away "Not really, no."

"Mm." Noble crossed his arms and leaned away. "You're bad at lying. Your cheek twitches."

Aiden steadied himself on the metal railing, but recoiled at the heat. "Fine. Yeah, I guess." He paused to rub his burnt hand. "I guess I care about a few people and this horse here a real honest bit."

"Well, that's good, because I wouldn't ask you to do any of this if it didn't matter to you." Before Aiden could ask what that meant, Silas Noble banged on the front door. It opened.

A woman on the other side bowed and moved aside. "Good afternoon, Captain. Runa Hyde is upstairs."

"Thank you, Margret," Silas Noble lifted off his hat. Aiden took off his hat as well.

Aiden stalled at the base of the staircase. His gut twisted like something bad was going to happen, even though there was not much to give him that eerie feeling.

"Godspeed, Captain." Margaret bowed.

Silas Noble led the way upstairs and walked into a room. There was an older woman sitting in a chair by the window. Her hair was spiky and short, like the dying yellow grasses at the Devil's Frying Pan. The loose nightgown looked awkward on her. Little lavenders were embroidered around the neckline and hem. Maybe she had been a tough lighthouse keeper, but now she was just a fragile, shaken women. Aiden walked back out. He shouldn't be in a woman's room, especially if she was in a nightdress. But it seemed it wasn't his choice—Silas Noble tugged Aiden back into the room by the back of his shirt.

The woman in the chair craned her neck around. "How is the rain today?"

"Good," Silas Noble said. He opened the envelope and lifted out a small vial. At first, Aiden thought there was nothing in it, but then he realized there was a small amount of fine purple powder at the bottom.

"I need you to take this." Silas Noble gave the bottle to her.

She looked at it with a deep curiosity, then shook the bottle until a purple dust exploded in a puff on the inside. A smile bloomed on her face. "What is it, dearie?"

"It may help you feel clearer."

"My Isabella wouldn't have taken it. She hated medicines." The woman set the bottle on the arm of the chair and wrote something down on a piece of paper.

"Isabella Soledad?" Aiden asked. His voice was soft, but he knew Noble had chosen to ignore his question.

"There are risks, but none that won't be worth it." Silas Noble picked up the bottle and uncorked it. "I've a brilliant doctor working for me. You'll be the first one to receive the antidote, just like we agreed."

"A doctor?" The woman set her pen and paper on a little table beside her. "Is he handsome?"

"I'm sure he is, Runa."