As they made their way further along the road, it started to thin and deteriorate. Elvie assumed it was because fewer people lived so far from the capital. Most of the way, their journey was in the countryside with hedges or stone fences on either side. The picturesque nature of the country became a monotonous procession of green, and a part of her subconsciously desired some dry, dusty land for variation.

Eldridge was focused on the road, chewing his bottom lip. ‘You’re thinking about something – a lot,’ Elvie said to him.

He blinked and briefly looked at her, eyes searching for something. ‘Uh. Yes. I’ve…’

‘Usually, I’m the one that doesn’t know what to say,’ Elvie laughed.

Eldridge nodded to himself, twisting his hands back and forth on the wheel. ‘That’s true, I can be quite sure of myself now, can’t I? The truth is, I’ve been thinking about something for a while now, but I don’t know whether it is something I should be thinking about.’

‘That doesn’t make a lot of sense.’

‘No, no, you’re right. I’m speaking in riddles. I might as well just come out and say it, to clear everything up. You’re from the future Elvie…’ Elvie nodded, but his eyes were focused on the road ahead and he didn’t seem to notice. ‘You see, several days after you arrived in my life, and told me your secret, I’ve had this recurring thought. It’s an endless loop in my mind and despite how much time and consideration I’ve given the idea, I can’t seem to work my way to a reasonable answer.’

He paused and sighed, making brief eye contact with Elvie. ‘You’re from the future Elvie, and if you’re from the future, then you could no doubt tell me things about that future.’

‘I guess I could. What would you want to know?’

‘Ah! See, that’s the real conundrum. I’d answer that with – everything, absolutely everything. I’d want to know about the wonders of the world, about the future of my country. If you even had a remote inkling, I’d want to know all about my life. But none of those are the real question I need to ask… No, when you work with magic for a while you understand that there are consequences to every action. Like the tree.’

‘The one I grew in your house when we started lessons?’

‘Exactly. That is what has given me pause. I had a responsibility to think through what may or may not happen.’

‘You mean you shouldn’t have taught me.’

‘Of course I should have taught you, but I acted without thinking through all the issues. In that case, it felt like something small, an easy task. To teach you a simple spell. What could be the harm? I didn’t stop and ask the most important question: what might be the consequence?’

Elvie was slowly understanding what he spoke about. ‘So you’re worried about the consequences of knowing the future.’

He smiled. ‘Exactly my dear. I have to fight the desire in me that desperately wants to know all about the fate of the world because I don’t know the repercussions of doing that.’

‘Oh, actually, I’ve seen lots of movies about that. Time travel too, now that I think about it.’

‘Movies – yes, yes. That is a wondrous new technology.’

‘There are lots of movies, books, comics… all sorts of things about time travel and consequences.’

‘Amazing. And what do these movies have to say?’

Elvie screwed up her face trying to remember. ‘Well, to be honest, a lot of the movies don’t make much sense to me. They talk about all this science stuff. Paradoxes? Oh… and alternate universes. I don’t know, I can’t say they’re my favourites ones.’

‘There are lots of movies in the future?’

‘Hmmm, hundreds. Maybe thousands. I don’t know.’

Eldridge nodded, returning briefly to his thoughtful driving as he pondered things through.

Looking at the passing countryside, Elvie waited, mentally counting to twenty. When she reached it, she said: ‘I guess that proves it then.’

‘Proves what?’ Eldridge asked.

‘Well, I know you’re worried about the consequences, but I’ve told you lots of things now, and nothing has changed. You know about movies in the future. Oh, and I guess you know what my phone can do! All those things that you already know and nothing has happened. What does that mean?’

‘What does that mean?’ Eldridge repeated. ‘You’re right! Even knowing you’re from the future and meeting me changes everything… I still don’t know how, but it is much to think upon.’

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‘You can think up all the questions you want an answer to, and maybe when I see you next I can answer those questions for you.’

A genuine smile broke out across Eldridge’s face, wrinkling his eyes. ‘I think I’d like that – I think I’d like that very much indeed.’

They drove for a long time before Elvie caught a glimpse of the sea in the distance. The temperature had dropped, and birds squawked and circled on the horizon to announce its arrival.

Eldridge drove towards the water and pulled into a tiny carpark where a rickshaw boat bobbed beside a shoddy dock.

‘I’ll walk you to the boatman, and he’ll take you over to the lighthouse. Don’t worry about anything; once you’re onboard the boat, you’re out of my care and into the magicians’. That’s where they start watching you from, if not before.’

An elderly man stood at a dock, a pipe clenched between weathered teeth. A mass of sticky brown hair ran down to his chest in the front, as well as back across his shoulders.

‘Ya wanting to cross to the lighthause?’ His deep voice was wrapped in a thick accent.

‘Yes, Sir.’ Elvie tried a smile.

He shrugged uncomfortably and beckoned her on board.

It was hard to part from Eldridge after everything he’d done for her. But she wrapped her arms around him tightly, before she wordlessly made her way onto the boat. Goodbyes always hurt, but at least she was getting to say one this time.

The boat was roughly flat, with thick wooden boards strewn across the top for decking, and the sides for seats. Towards the rear, a loud engine rumbled though the boat idled.

Elvie put a tentative foot forward. Was it safe to leave the dock? It wasn’t somewhere she wanted to fall in, with dark water and frothing foam swirling around the piers. Gathering her courage, she made her way to a wooden bench, trying to ignore the wetness of it as she sat.

The captain moved back and forwards across the boat, untying ropes which he wrapped around wooden pegs. His swift hands moved in an assured fashion – the simple motion provided Elvie with some comfort.

Elvie looked longingly towards the shore, meeting Eldridge’s eyes. He waved with a smile. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll be seeing me soon. Keep an eye out for my letters as I’ll write you soon.’

And as Elvie waved back, they set off. The sailor had made his way to the back of the boat without further words, and within moments they rode the gentle swell in the late afternoon sunlight. As they pulled away, Elvie’s breath caught in her throat. She’d always loved the sea, and as the final lazy rays of the sun fell upon the sea, it came alight in a myriad of colours and flickering brightness. The peaceful sight brought tears to her eyes and longing to her heart – it was a view she’d always enjoyed with her mother and father.

In the distance, Elvie could make out a lighthouse growing larger by the minute. Flashing light became prominent as the sun drifted beneath the horizon’s edge. In the half natural, half man-made twilight, Elvie could make out a small rocky island situated atop stark cliffs.

The sailor pulled his boat to the side of a large rock and gestured upwards at a ladder. ‘This is it now. Grab on ta it. Climb up and walk to tha lighthause.’

She eyed the ladder warily, watching how the boat made it difficult to grab hold as it bounced up and down on the waves. But with a swiftness, she reached for it, and clambered up each step until she stood on a rocky platform at the top, with a path leading up the side and away.

Elvie turned, thinking to wave goodbye to the sailor, but he’d pushed away without a backwards glance. Just another common drop off for him.

It looked to be a short walk up to the lighthouse, but with increasing wind and the onset of darkness, it became ever more difficult unless the light flashed around to provide brief illumination. Elvie was uncertain of each footstep on the rough path and worried she would fall and hurt herself. Small and scruffy trees blocked the last traces of light and scratched her face as she struggled past.

‘Hold.’ Elvie nearly fainted as an accented man materialised in front of her face. ‘Are you friend or foe?

In the moon’s gloom, a man appeared. He was older, with brown hair shaved on the sides, and a beard flowing onto his chest. A feeling emanated from him, like a constrained animal moments from launching into an attack.

‘Friend!’ Elvie shot out.

A flash of light revealed a stern look on the man’s face as he appraised her for several heartbeats –before he relaxed. ‘I am the Sentinel to the Island. Follow me.’

She had no choice, and without further word, he led her up the path.

The lighthouse rose from the ground like a spear impaling the earth. The structure was huge, big enough at the base to have a house inside, and tapering into a small bedroom at the top. A warm glow emanated from up high, to complement the flashes of light. However, the most striking feature was not the brightness coming from its peak, but a startling tear running down the side of the lighthouse. Had it been torn down and pieced back together?

‘Why are you here?’ the Sentinel asked as they made their way to the door.

‘To learn magic?’ she took a stab in the dark.

He grunted in reply and pushed his way inside.

The bottom of the lighthouse was spartan. Half a dozen beds rested against the wall like spokes in a while, and Elvie assumed students slept there if they stayed the night. Nothing was inviting, and nothing spoke of the man who stood beside her.

‘You stay here alone?’

The Sentinel shrugged.

‘Aren’t you lonely, living by yourself?’

‘I get plenty of visitors, from time to time anyway. Nobody stays too long. Yesterday, a few other students came through, and there could well be more in the morning. You never know.’ He paced the lighthouse as he spoke, perhaps unused to making conversation. ‘Make yourself as comfortable as you can. I’ll be up top.’ He nodded vaguely at the ceiling, and he left the room.

She perused the room she would spend the night in; it was sparse, in the way travellers kept their room light of anything bar the essentials needed to sustain life. The beds looked to have mattresses stuffed with straw. A table with four chairs was pushed against the wall, not looking like it had been dragged out for a while. A few candles and matches were haphazardly strewn across it. Two old leather chairs sat in front of an open fireplace, upon which was a small stove and spit. The fire was unlit, however, and no smell of cooking wafted off the hearth.

Elvie wasn’t sure what she would have eaten if Anne, the cook, hadn’t supplied her with leftover sandwiches. They might be stale by now but anything would suffice to stave off hunger through the night, or come morning.

It certainly did appear like it would be a long night.