Luna clung tightly to the top of The Driftwood's mast as she scanned the horizon from high above the deck. A thick fog had enveloped the sea and left them sailing blind. In the distance she spotted a faint light, cutting through the fog. "30 degrees Starboard!" she called down. Captain Finn turned the wheel slightly and The Driftwood slowly followed, finally settling with the light centered on its bow.
"Clang - Clang" a distant bell sounded. Luna grabbed the mast line and slid down to the deck. Quickly grabbing a rope, she furled the main sail. Captain Finn had tied off the wheel and made his way to the bow of the ship where he was reading the anchor winch. With the sail furled, Finn turned the heavy winch and let the anchor drop into the sea below. It caught, dragged for a minute, and then brought the Driftwood to a halt.
"Clang! Clang!" The bell was louder now. They loaded the large oilskin bag they'd filled with books, paper, and pens into the rowboat and set off into the dense fog.
The island of Seasend appeared from the fog as if by magic, all of a sudden the looming above them, its dark rocky cliffs mere feet away. Finn brought the rowboat around to a small cove and up onto a rocky beach. Climbing out of the boat, Finn grabbed the oilskin bag, and together they started to climb the stairs that were carved into the rock.
"Brother Portarius is the keeper of this lighthouse," Finn told Luna as they climbed. "He always has the most interesting stories for me, but we cannot take the books he has with us. They must remain in the lighthouse."
"Why?" Luna asked. When they had packed to come ashore, Finn had made a point to bring lots of books from the library to lend and extra paper for transcription.
"This is his rule. It is not our place to question it, Luna. We must respect the Brother's wishes." Luna nodded silently.
At the top of the stairs, the rocky cliffs gave way to a small grassy space. Here, chickens and goats grazed, a simple garden was planted with hearty vegetables, and carefully constructed trellises held tall vines from which large flowers bloomed. Beyond the garden, a large stone lighthouse rose up into the sky. The lighthouse appeared to have been built of the same dark stone as the island. Its sides were smooth, bare of windows or any other feature save for a small wooden door at its base.
Finn approached the door and knocked. It opened quickly, revealing a small man dressed in simple grey robes. He hugged Finn wordlessly and beckoned them inside. As Luna followed, the man also hugged her and gestured into the lighthouse. Stepping through the door the heavy silence wrapped around her - before she had visited her first lighthouse, Finn had tried to explain to her what a vow of silence meant, and why it was important that they honor that vow when they were inside.
The inside of the lighthouse followed the same simple layout that Luna had come to know. The ground floor was given over to living space for the animals. A stone staircase wound its way around the outside, leading to the second floor where the living space was, the third floor which housed the library, and then through a trapdoor to the rooftop altar where the great fire, mirror, and lens were housed.
Brother Portarius led the way as they climbed the stairs to the living space, then pausing for a minute, he motioned for Luna to stop and not to come any further before continuing to climb up to the library. Luna looked at Finn, confused, but Finn just nodded his head and motioned for her to stay before following Brother Portarius up the stairs.
Left on her own, Luna explored the small living area. There was a small bed pushed to one side, a few uncomfortable-looking chairs, and a small kitchen. A stove gave gentle warmth to the room, and from its top, a pot left delicious odors to mingle with the otherwise musty smells. Hearing footsteps on the stairs behind her, Luna turned and saw Brother Portarius descending with a small handful of books. Luna recognized the bindings at once as ones from The Driftwood. Portarius placed the books on the small table in the center of the room, nodded, and departed back up the stairs.
Luna looked through the books. They were old - worn by years of heavy reading. One was a pirate story, another a book on keeping goats, one on the habits of the Wave Rider people, and another on the history of Port Aurelia. Opening the pirate adventure, Luna smiled, recognizing Finn's careful transcription. He must have visited Brother Portarius and lent him this book, seven or maybe eight years ago, before Luna came aboard The Driftwood.
Finishing the pirate story, Luna contemplated which of the remaining books would be the least boring when she heard the sound of soft footsteps above her. Brother Portarius and Finn descended the stairs. Luna was shocked to see the bag Finn carried seemed empty. They had brought fifteen books to the island - had the story exchange not happened yet, or had Finn parted with all those stories for nothing? Crossing to the center of the room, Finn placed the bag on one of the chairs and started to load the books that Portarius had brought Luna earlier inside. Was this the story exchange? Luna thought. She tried to glance furtively inside the pack, seeing only the books she'd already been given and a few carefully wrapped sheets of transcription paper. As he loaded the book, Finn came to the pirate adventure that was separate from the rest. He glanced up at Luna with his wry smile, but seeing the disbelief in her face, his smile quickly vanished.
While Finn had loaded the books, Brother Portarius had attended to the pot simmering on the stove and now served them dinner - a hearty stew that warmed Luna and helped to shrug off the dreary cold that seemed to linger with the fog outside. After dinner, Brother Portarius signaled to Luna that she needed to help with the animals. Despite growing up on The Driftwood, Luna was pretty good at herding chickens, and the goats seemed to know their way to their stalls. Returning to the living area, Finn had set up sleeping rolls for them. As Luna lay down she noted the oilskin pack just as empty as before. Portarius quickly snuffed out the lights, and Luna stared into the inky blackness.
It wasn't fair - they'd brought the lighthouse keeper fifteen stories, he'd only given them four returns, plus the one measly little story. The anger overwhelming her, Luna couldn't sleep. At last, when she was sure Finn and Portarius were asleep, she rose, grabbed a half-burned candle, and carefully lit it in the embers of the stove. Then, walking to their bag, she carefully opened it and pulled out the transcription papers and looked them over. It was a series of crude drawings clearly traced from a book. They showed a mold that grew on fruit being scraped off and fermented. The label beneath the drawing identified the mold as Penicillium. Putting the pages carefully back into the bag, Luna was now more furious than ever - fifteen books and for what? Some sort of mold tea. She could do better. Silently, she climbed the staircase to the library.
Holding the half-burned candle aloft, Luna shone a faint light around the library and was taken aback by what she saw. She'd grown up in libraries and was used to their soft maroon and amber hues, but here a symphony of color played out along the shelves. Books bound in materials she'd never seen before - some smooth and glossy, others with strange patterns that seemed to shift in the candlelight. The titles were rendered in scripts she didn't recognize, though she could somehow read them. She pulled one of the books from the shelves. Grimm's Fairy Tales, its title read in perfectly rendered Black Letter. In the half-light, Luna could make out a painting of some kind of tower with a girl sitting at the top. Not wanting to risk lighting more candles, she took the book and climbed to the rooftop altar.
In the light of the roaring flame, Luna examined the book more closely. The painting on the cover showed a tower, a girl inside had long flowing hair that reached out the window and all the way to the ground. Running her hands over the painting, it was smooth, but the colors were too vivid for any ink or paint she'd ever seen. The pages were thin and crisp, unlike the thick, rough paper of The Driftwood's books. Opening it up, she was amazed by the meticulous transcription - she'd never seen a book rendered so neatly. The book contained tales, the first called "The Fisherman and his Wife" was accompanied by a painting of a man catching a large golden fish. The tale told of a fisherman who caught a magic fish but let it go. When the fisherman's wife found out, she wanted the fish to grant them a wish. The fish granted the wish, but the wife wasn't satisfied and wished for grander and grander things until eventually the fish took them all away. She turned to another story, "The Elves and the Shoemaker," accompanied by another painting, and then another, "Snow White," and another, "Little Red Riding Hood."
Luna read story after story until the book was done, then lifting the trap door, she returned to the library. As she went to return the book to the shelf, she looked around. There must have been a thousand books in the library, and all of them seemed just as magical as this one with their impossibly bright covers and perfectly transcribed letters. Why did Brother Portarius need so many of these impossible books? Luna thought. Then one particular shelf caught her eye. On it stood a meager collection of familiar leather-bound books. She recognized some as the books they'd brought from The Driftwood. The books on this shelf were worn and weathered, clearly opened and read many times, each time with tenderness and love. Turning back to the shelves of glossy colorful books, Luna was incensed. He doesn't even read these, she thought. Filled with rage, she grabbed two more of the impossible books from the shelf without even looking at the titles and carefully snuck back downstairs, tucking all three books into the oilskin pack. Luna blew out the candle, putting it back where she'd found it, climbed back into her bedroll, closed her eyes, and fell asleep instantly.
Morning came quickly, and with it a small breakfast, then Luna and Finn were sent on their way. Not wanting Finn to realize what she'd done, Luna had grabbed the oilskin bag and carried it back down to the beach and their rowboat. When they reached The Driftwood, Luna hurried below deck to empty the stolen books from the bag before Finn noticed, but to her horror, as she opened the bag, there were only four books inside - leather-bound and worn, they were a book of pirate tales, a book on the keeping of goats, one on the traditions of the Wave Riders, and a book on the history of Port Aurelia. Gone were the impossible books with their vibrant paintings, gone too was the transcription that Finn had traded eleven books for. Unable to face Finn Luna curled up in a ball and started to cry.
After what felt like hours of sobbing, Finn came down to her. He placed a stack of transcription papers and a pen beside her and sat facing her.
"Brother Portarius is charged with guarding a different kind of knowledge than any other lighthouse keeper," Finn started. "He takes this duty very seriously. This is only the second time I've been to the lighthouse, and the first time I've been allowed into the library."
"But we were giving him so many books -" Luna started, but Finn interrupted.
"And I would gladly have given even more for the fragments of stories he was willing to trade. You trying to take the books left Portarius feeling like we were not ready for what he was sharing, and so we left empty-handed." As he said "empty-handed," Finn gave his wry smile, although Luna didn't see it through her tears. Drying her eyes, Luna sniffled out an "I'm sorry." Finn gave her a reassuring squeeze on her hand and said, "I know... perhaps though you can repay some of this loss. I know you read the Brothers Grimm at least once last night. Write what you can remember of the stories, and we may yet be richer for this trip." He paused, looking out the window at the receding fog. "Sometimes the best stories are the ones we're not supposed to read, but we must be ready to understand them when we do." With that, he left. Luna took a deep breath, picked up a pen, and began writing:
"Once upon a time, there were a fisherman and his wife who lived together in a filthy shack near the sea. Every day the fisherman went out fishing, and he fished, and he fished..."