I eased back on the seat and watched the waves roll onto the beach as we passed. White gulls and black frigate birds plied the waters for their quarry. Not only were we the only people in sight, but were it not for the hands that packed the dirt on the road, I would have thought we were the only ones who had ever been there. Time passed quickly in the isolation and the waning sun rested on the tops of the crests of the approaching waves when I saw it. The small spire rose out of the timeless sands like a soldier on post and stood vigil against the cyanic expanse of ocean and sky.

"Is that a lighthouse?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Does this road go past it?"

"No, it stops at it. It is my home."

"You live in a lighthouse?"

"My home is at the base of it."

"Does it still work?"

"Oh yes, I am the keeper."

The tower stretched higher into the evening twilight the closer we came. The road wound down onto a narrow point of land that jutted out into the sea and supported the stone blocks of the lighthouse. Waves, subdued by the ebbing of daylight, licked at the shore on both sides as we approached.

"As much as I enjoy the views on that ride, I am always happy when it is over."

I assumed from that comment that his butt was as sore as mine. Clovis reined the horse to a stop next to the back door of a small stone house dovetailed into the larger tan blocks of the tower. A tethered gray horse grazed on the sparse grass lying close to the ground.

"Aye Sayedee!" cried a young alto voice from the high railing circling the glass dome at the top of the spire. The young Arab on the walkway looked surprised at my presence.

Clovis waved and called back up to him. "That is Drusel, younger brother of Nusel," he said to me. "He has been manning the light during my absence."

Clovis called up to him once more and climbed down off the wagon. "Bring your things inside Evan. I will show you to the guest bed." The young man at the railing above watched me until I reached the door. The setting sun's last rays reflected off the silver handle of the dagger tucked into the belt around his waist.

"This way," said Clovis, opening the rough finished wooden door.

I followed him in and hovered within the shallow perimeter of light in the doorway. He struck a match and lit a brass lantern sitting on a polished wooden table in the center of the room. He turned up the wick and took hold of a small rope dangling above the table. The room filled with light as he pulled and hoisted the lantern up close to the rafters.