Chapter 4, The Ninth Bell
The fog came up from the harbor the way it always did in the ninth month, slowly, and then all at once, until Pip could not see the end of her own broom. Somewhere below, the last ferry was still out. Somewhere below, someone was counting on the light.
“Up we go, then,” she told Sootpaw, who did not agree but came anyway, tail high, the way cats do when they have decided to be brave on their own terms.
The stairs of the Ninth Bell tower wound up and up, past the rope room and the map room and the little window where Bramble kept his spare spectacles. At the top, the great lantern sat dark and patient, waiting for a hand to remember it. Pip struck the match on the second try. She was getting better at the second try.
The wick caught. The light spilled out over the water, gold and certain, and far below a small boat turned toward home. Pip leaned on the railing and let herself be proud for exactly one minute. Then Sootpaw knocked her last match off the ledge, the minute was over, and it was time to go down and put the kettle on.
~ end of chapter 4 ~