I breathe the warm air. Grandma is right. It does smell faintly of magic.

*

After lunch, the two fishermen and the boy finally wake from their deep slumber and Grandma rows them over to the mainland in her boat.

I find myself alone on the island once more. I sit in Dad’s chair in the keeper’s office and aim his spyglass out of the window, watching the sea for Grandma’s return.

In the late afternoon, she arrives back. She has brought a big barrel of oil with her for the lantern and fresh provisions for the cottage.

“I checked on your mother and father and the baby while I was in town,” Grandma tells me as we roll the barrel of oil back to the lighthouse. “I spoke with the midwife too.”

“And?” I ask. “How are they? How’s the baby?”

“Doing a lot better,” Grandma says. “They named him Cyrus, like you suggested, Deryn. He’s a bonny lad, full of life. The midwife reckons your mum will need a couple more days to recover. Your dad’s decided to stay on with the pair of them. But as soon as your mum’s up and about they’ll all be back here to join us.”

I don’t hear half of what Grandma’s saying, I’m just relieved that my baby brother is all right. His name is Cyrus, and he’s going to be fine!

That night, alone in my room, I put Tan’s feather in a jam jar by my bedside. The light from it is very faint, but I can still read my book of fairy tales by it. It’s bright enough that when I want to go to sleep I have to throw a cloth over it. I call it my featherlight. When Cyrus gets home, I am going to show it to him.

*

Two days pass quickly. I go up to the top of the lighthouse tower with Grandma on the day Mum and Dad and Cyrus are due to arrive back, so we can see Dad’s boat bringing them across.

I look into the spyglass, staring out to sea. Finally, I catch sight of the sail of Dad’s boat. It is weaving its way past the rocks and across the rolling blue water towards the island.

The sun flashes on the boat’s sails, making it look as bright as a white cloud.

I can see Mum and Dad together in the boat. Mum has something clasped to her chest. A tiny bundle of blankets. I can just make out a pink face beneath the folds of cloth.

Cyrus. My new baby brother.

I am about to hand the spyglass back to Grandma when I catch sight of something else in the sky. A light.