Lighthouse – An Anthology

By Kat Carr, Carleton Chinner, Jo Edgar-Baker and 12 more

A grieving woman is drawn to a land-locked lighthouse where she meets a party of lost souls in need of a guide. She must face death in order to start a new life.

 

The temporary caretaker of a lighthouse finds the perfect hideaway for safeguarding her secret, never expecting to encounter a murder and an unlikely partner in crime. 

While visiting a deep space navigational beacon to conduct routine maintenance, two space adventurers encounter a self-aware AI computer that has her own plans.

 

Queensland, 1887. A lighthouse keeper's daughter is missing, presumed dead. Is she another victim of the Spectre or something even more terrifying?

 

A voice from one woman's past echoes a secret up the lighthouse stairs. The only person who can give her the answers, is the last person she ever wants to see again.

 

The estranged daughter of a lightkeeper returns home to South Solitary Island as WWII looms and finds her world upended by her father's dying request: marry his successor. 

Lighthouses: beautiful, mysterious, dangerous, remote – the perfect setting for this genre fiction anthology – a collection of fantasy, sci-fi, romance, crime, historical fiction, dystopian and paranormal short stories from established and emerging Australian authors.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lorikeet Ink
• Release date: Oct 21, 2020
• ISBN: 9780648876908

Book preview

Lighthouse

Lighthouse

An Anthology

Kat Carr Carleton Chinner Jo Edgar-Baker Sophia Evans Kylie Fennell Chis Foley Kelly Lyonns Alyssa Mackay Brooke Maggs Anna McEvoy Bianca Millroy Lea Scott Sharyn Swanepoel Lane Thornton Jodie Woodward

Edited by

Bianca Millroy

Introduction by

Chris Foley

Lorikeet Ink

Published by Lorikeet Ink, Brisbane, Australia.

www.lorikeetink.com

First published in Australia in 2020.

Individual stories copyright © retained by the authors, who assert their rights to be known as the author of their work.

Introduction copyright © Chris Foley 2020

Selection and editing copyright © Bianca Millroy 2020

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity (including Google, Amazon or similar organisations) in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission from the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, organisations and incidents are either the products of the individual author’s imagination or, if real, used in a fictitious manner.

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ISBN 978-0-6488769-0-8 (ebook)

ISBN 978-0-6488769-1-5 (paperback)

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A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of Australia.

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Cover design by Jo Edgar-Baker

Contents

Introduction

Last Light

Anna McEvoy

The Caretakers

Lea Scott

Island of Lost Flowers

Jo Edgar-Baker

Us

Chris Foley

Jezebel

Lane Thornton

Once Perilous, Now Safe

Jodie Woodward

Broken Things

Kylie Fennell

Alice

Carleton Chinner

A Matter of Trust

Kat Carr

The Sound the Sea Makes

Alyssa Mackay

In the Dark

Sophia Evans

A Gift To The Sentinel

Kelly Lyonns

Light the Way Home

Sharyn Swanepoel

Bereft of Morna

Brooke Maggs

The Solitary Light

An Excerpt

Bianca Millroy

About the Anthology Authors

Did you like Lighthouse – An Anthology?

Interested in more great reads?

Introduction

Please enter my world…is the implied invitation extended by the opening lines of any work of fiction from the writer to the reader.

Typically, a character, a place, or simply a sensation is offered to entice the reader into the unfolding story. How that sensation plays out reveals the personality of the writer and the feel of the story to the reader.

Inside Lighthouse – An Anthology there are fifteen opening lines, offering a feast for the reader’s imagination. Some of the opening lines will tantalise the senses, allowing time for the reader to settle in and drift along with the soft currents of the story. Others will hit you with the force of a barreling wave and fling you headlong into a fast-paced narrative that does not let up until the very end.

The spark that kicked off this anthology was a light-hearted dinner conversation during GenreCon 2019 held in Brisbane by the Queensland Writers Centre. The theme for the dinner was Poltergeists and Petticoats and I happened to be dressed in an elaborate Edwardian-inspired uniform. My costume triggered an animated guessing game of what character I could be. A crew member from the Titanic? The concierge from a haunted hotel?

One writer, who mentioned that her writing was inspired by real-life lighthouses, thought I looked like a lightkeeper. And so, the premise for Lighthouse flickered into existence.

The idea could have remained just a dinnertime conversation except that it lodged in our imaginations and we continued to talk about it afterwards. Maybe, just maybe, a cross-genre collaboration could work.

Then the hard part began – turning our idea into a reality.

The result is Lighthouse – An Anthology, and it has lived up to its cross-genre vision with many varied contributions: fantasy, sci-fi, romance, crime, historical fiction, dystopian and paranormal stories. Each contributing writer accepted the challenge of setting their story in a lighthouse, applying their own special brand of creativity to produce this collective work.

Some of our writers chose to set their story within a bricks and mortar lighthouse as found commonly along rugged coastlines where navigational hazards abound. Others interpreted the setting more loosely, focusing on the function of a lighthouse rather than a literal expression of a physical lighthouse.

Intriguingly, while we did not mandate a common theme, all the stories share a common thread of relationships.

Relationships that are budding and some that have soured. Relationships not just between people, but between a lighthouse and its keeper, a ship and its captain, a ghostly visitor and his guide. Love that transverses time and technology. Monster-fighting spouses. Shapeshifting showdowns. In all these stories the writers have not shied away from some deep emotions: grief, joy, hope, and despair.

Lighthouse is the product of many hands, all of whom require acknowledgement and thanks.

Firstly, the fifteen writers themselves. Many of us had never met each other before GenreCon 2019 but the willingness by everyone to be involved, and additionally to offer other talents, is truly inspiring. Thank you.

Our editor, Bianca Millroy, threw herself into the task of editing the work of fourteen other writers, giving each work thorough structural and line editing critique. Our work has simply sparkled because of her dedication.

Our proofreaders, Kat Carr, Sophia Evans and Lane Thornton for their keen eyes.

Our graphic designer, Jo Edgar-Baker, for producing the amazing front cover.

Our marketing support, Sharyn Swanepoel.

Our expert on all things lighthouse-related, Bianca Millroy.

Thank you to Aiki Flinthart for sharing her publishing wisdom.

Finally, my fellow organiser, Kylie Fennell for her boundless energy and logistical support.

Thank you, reader, for selecting this anthology for your next read.

Enjoy!

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Chris Foley

Anthology Organiser and Contributing Author

Last Light

Anna McEvoy

My car keys jingle in my pocket as I climb the spiral staircase, but I have only vague memories of driving here. Wherever ‘here’ is. Despite my aching legs and a growing sense of dread, I feel a compulsion to keep climbing, like a thread through my chest tugging me forward.

When I reach the top, I’m met with a round of raucous applause and cheers. I’m blinded by the late-afternoon sun streaming through the windows and my mind races in time with my heartbeat.

‘She made it!’ someone calls out.

‘Finally! I’m about to fade any minute,’ says someone else.

Is this a surprise party? Why? I’ve got nothing to celebrate…not anymore. I blink through the glare until my eyes adjust and I’m faced with a small room full of strangers staring at me. My cheeks flush with the fleeting thought that I’ve crashed someone else’s party and at any moment they’re going to realise their mistake.

‘I think I’m in the wrong place. I’m sorry.’ I back away down the staircase, but I miss the tread and flail wildly for the handrail.

A young man steps forward through the crowd. ‘Careful! Those stairs are a killer.’ He gives a weak laugh but there’s genuine concern in his startling blue eyes. I regain my balance and turn to leave.

‘Please, don’t go,’ he says. ‘We’ve been waiting for you.’

‘I don’t even know you,’ I say.

‘I realise this probably doesn’t make any sense, but I assure you, you’re in the right place.’ He gives an apologetic smile. ‘You must have a million questions.’

He’s not wrong there. I start with the basics. ‘Who are you? What’s going on here? What is this place?’

He perks up at the last question. ‘A lighthouse.’ He doesn’t say ‘of course’ but it’s implied in the sweep of his arm as he gestures overhead, inviting me to disagree with him.

Again, he’s not wrong. The room above us is partially obscured by grated flooring, and enclosed in 360-degree windows. A huge lamp dominates the space. There’s just one problem.

‘We’re in the middle of the bush,’ I say slowly, and he nods. ‘We’re nowhere near the ocean. Aren’t lighthouses for guiding ships?’

‘This lighthouse doesn’t guide ships,’ he says, as though I should already know this. ‘It guides souls.’

I laugh, but he just smiles at me and rocks patiently back and forth on his heels.

I shake my head. I must have lost my mind. I’ve heard grief can do that to a person.

‘How did I even get here? I remember getting in my car this morning, but after that…it’s like I was driving on autopilot.’

‘The lighthouse calls out to lost souls who wander the In-Between,’ the man says. ‘The dead are drawn by the light.’

‘You’re saying I’m dead?’ I keep my voice light, but a mix of fear and relief rushes through me: the fear twists my intestines, while relief spreads through my chest like a warm bath.

‘No.’ His eyes widen and he holds up both hands. ‘No-no-no!’ He opens his mouth to speak again but stops himself and sighs, pressing his hand to his forehead.

A glamorous woman in a low-cut cocktail dress steps forward and places her hand on his arm. ‘You sure are making a right mess of this, Charles.’ She turns to me with a warm smile. ‘You’re very much alive, dear.’

I wince. I don’t feel very much alive. I haven’t felt very much of anything since the funeral.

‘Are you sure?’ I say, trying to keep my tone casual.

She smiles and leads me through the crowded room to one of the windows overlooking the driveway. She points. ‘That’s your car, isn’t it?’

I nod. ‘Why?’

‘The dead don’t drive here in Honda Civics.’

I can’t help but laugh. ‘So, then, what am I doing here?’

‘You’re not dead, dear, but we are. And we need your help.’

I draw sharply away from her. ‘You don’t look dead to me.’ I press my back against the wall and scan the room. ‘Actually, you all look so alive.’

I don’t know how I could have missed it earlier. While they’re all different in age, appearance, and dress, there’s one thing everyone in this room has in common. They all seem lit from within, glowing with an unnatural brightness. I feel shabby by comparison in my crumpled skirt and tea-stained top. I self-consciously try to smooth out the creases. I’d like to say I’m a mess from the long drive, but I didn’t look any better when I left the house this morning.

‘How very kind of you to say, dear.’ The woman gives a flirtatious shimmy. ‘When we die, we get to be the best version of ourselves.’

The man, Charles, finally finds his voice again. ‘Besides, you can’t be dead. The Anchor must be one of the living.’

‘The Anchor?’

Charles nods. ‘The Anchor, the guide. Our portal from the In-Between to the After-Place.’

‘Portal? After-Place?’ I shake my head. It’s all too much.

Charles lowers his gaze. ‘I’m sorry. I’m not used to speaking with—’ He flutters his hands in my direction.

‘People?’ I suggest.

‘Living people.’ He sighs. ‘The previous Anchor…retired unexpectedly—’

‘And we’ve been stuck here since, in the In-Between, waiting for the new guide,’ says the woman in the cocktail dress. Charles looks down and shuffles his feet.

The woman takes a step closer and I can’t help but flinch. ‘Waiting for you, dear.’

I press myself further back into the wall. ‘Why would I be your guide? Your…Anchor? Why me?’

The room falls silent and no one meets my eye.

Charles gives a nervous laugh.

‘Well, you’re alive, as we’ve established. But sometimes when…’ he clears his throat, ‘…when we lose someone very special to us, they take a little piece of us with them, and we carry a piece of them in us. It creates a conduit between the land of the living and the After-Place.’

I press my hand to my chest. ‘It left a small death inside me.’ I imagine this is the kind of thing you’re supposed to say softly, but it comes out between choked sobs. Charles looks away, giving me space, but the woman in the cocktail dress steps forward.

‘Do you want to tell us about it, dear?’

‘Her name was Bethany.’ I blink away the tears. ‘But how does any of this make me your Anchor? I’m not the only person who’s ever lost someone.’

‘Well, as to why you in particular were chosen…’ Charles trails off with a shrug. ‘That decision’s above our pay grade.’

I let it all sink in for a minute before I speak again. ‘Still, how can I possibly believe you?’

A woman holding the hand of an exhausted-looking young girl speaks up. ‘Please, my daughter. She’s about to fade away.’

‘Yes!’ Charles points excitedly at the child. ‘Seeing is believing.’ He leads the mother and daughter towards me.

The woman in the cocktail dress frowns. ‘Charles, are you sure that’s a good idea?’

Charles waves her off. ‘It’ll be fine. Children are the easiest to start with.’ He says to me, ‘I promise this won’t hurt, but it might feel a little…different.’

The child reaches out to me and I instinctively take her hands in my own. Her skin is so soft it’s like she’s barely there.

‘Go on,’ Charles says to her encouragingly, and her mother smiles down at her.

I look over at Charles, frowning.

‘What are you talking ab—’ I gasp.

The heartache I’ve carried since Bethany died suddenly spreads, nearly swallowing me whole. But in the next second it expands beyond my edges, beyond my senses, until I can’t feel the pain anymore. Instead, I’m left in a vacuum, with the whisper of the galaxy on the back of my neck. I feel like I could fall into space and disappear. As I tighten my grip on the girl’s hands, I’m flooded with the light and innocence of a young life. It comes to me in flashes of shared memories that fade before I truly understand what I’m seeing. Then it’s over, and I’m thrust out of the ether, my feet planted firmly back on the floor of the lighthouse, and the girl is gone.

I clutch my empty hands to my chest where the heartache has returned, snapped back into place like a rubber band. I hadn’t realised I’d moulded myself around the pain, settling into it like a well-worn armchair. After the shock of what just happened I almost welcome its familiarity.

There’s no denying it, though – I felt it, I saw it: the After-Place.

I’m not sure if it’s the crick in my neck that wakes me, or the morning sun streaming through the watch room windows. I gingerly press myself upright and ease my foot out from under my other leg. I wince as the blood rushes back, bringing pins and needles with it.

After the young girl yesterday, I’d guided her mother. There was more ‘weight’ to her passing – she’d lived longer and had more memories. The rest of the dead were also eager to be guided. Apparently once you’ve decided to go, it isn’t good to stick around. You could fade away and end up neither here nor there.

Being the Anchor was exhausting, but they said I’d get used to it. I’d passed out in an armchair as soon as I’d guided everyone. I was so tired, I would have just as happily curled up on the floor.

Alone now in the quiet room beneath the massive lamp, I feel – for the first time since Bethany died – peaceful. Purposeful.

‘Boo!’ a voice calls out beside me, and I jump in my seat. I turn to find Charles standing there, brighter than ever in the morning sun.

He smiles, then drops his face into his palm. ‘Sorry, couldn’t help myself. Too soon?’

‘Charles! You’re still here. I thought…’

He shakes his head. ‘I have some…unfinished business before I can go.’

‘Oh,’ I say, not sure if it’s impolite to ask further. ‘Is it anything I can help with?’

‘As a matter