Page 1 of Innocent Until Proven Witch

1

REINA

The storm arrives before sunset, and as the darkness settles over Moonhaven Cove, rain lashes against the lighthouse windows hard enough to rattle the glass. Wind screams across the cliffs, dragging salt spray into the air while the sea below churns black and restless under flashes of lightning.

I climb the final steps to the lantern room and press both hands against the polished brass housing surrounding the beacon.

"Easy," I murmur, feeling silver-blue magic flicker beneath my skin.

The light responds immediately, brightening into a steady glow that pierces through the storm. The beam sweeps across the water in slow rotations, cutting through rain and an unnatural fog gathering along the coastline.

The fog shouldn't be there, not this thick and not this early in the season. A knot tightens in my stomach as I focus harder, sending another pulse into the lighthouse. The beacon answers with a brighter flare, and for a while the fog retreats before rolling back, stronger than before.

That isn't normal. The wards surrounding Moonhaven have protected this coastline for generations, keeping magical weather from the harbor, and something is weakening them. I don't intend to find out what, while thunder follows lightning closer with every flash.

The beacon can wait. The wards cannot.

Twenty minutes later, I'm making my way along the cliff path with a lantern in hand and a satchel slung over my shoulder, rain soaking through my coat, wind shoving against me. I ignore it the way I've ignored every storm since these cliffs became my responsibility after Gran Cora passed.

Tonight feels different. The air itself feels wrong, restless and watchful, like something out past the waves has finally noticed me.

My boots slide against wet stone as I reach the first ward marker, a waist-high stone near the cliff edge. At first glance it appears intact, but then I notice the crack running through its center and my heart sinks.

"No."

I kneel beside it, watching the ancient runes flicker weakly beneath the rain when they should be glowing steady. The protective magic has nearly burned out. I set down my lantern and press my palm against the weathered surface, letting cold energy pulse beneath my skin until silver-blue light spreads through the symbols, sealing the crack and steadying the barrier.

Relief washes through me. One fixed, several dozen more to check.

Some people spend their evenings drinking in warm taverns. I spend mine arguing with ancient magical stones, and Gran would have found that amusing. The memory aches—three years later, I still reach for advice she can no longer give.

The storm intensifies as I continue down the cliffs. When I get to the fourth marker, rain is falling sideways. I finish the repair and straighten, catching a light far offshore. Another flash of lightning reveals a fishing vessel heading toward the harbor, wrapped in fog too dense to be natural, as if trapped inside it.

I pull the communication crystal from my satchel and channel magic into it until it glows.

"Harbor Master," I say sharply. "Come in."

Static crackles before a familiar, exhausted voice answers.

"Reina? What's wrong?"

"Fishing vessel approaching from the eastern waters," I reply. "Tell me that's one of yours."

A pause follows, then a curse.

"No vessel was scheduled out there," Gideon admits.

"That's what I thought," I mutter, watching the fog swirl around the struggling boat. For a brief second I see shapes moving inside the mist, dark figures watching, and then they're gone. Perhaps the storm is only playing tricks on me.

"Can you identify the vessel?" Gideon asks.

"Not from here."

"Understood. I'll alert the harbor."

The crystal falls silent as the boat lurches and a wave crashes over its side. For one terrible moment I think it's going to capsize, but the lighthouse beam sweeps across the water and the vessel turns, slowly, toward home.

I release a breath I didn't realize I was holding. "Come on," I whisper, watching the fog fight it every step of the way. Yet somehow the boat keeps moving toward the harbor, toward safety, toward the light, and only after it disappears from view do I continue my rounds.