Did you want to view this article ad free? Get access to this article and unlimited access to all our articles Click here to subscribe – start your free trial today.
✓ Ad-free reading experience
✓ Join the conversation in our comments section
✓ The option to receive email updates upon new articles added
Welcome back to our interactive story! In Chapter 1, we met Ali Blacksmith, the young keeper of a mysterious New England lighthouse. And then in Chapter 2, Ali investigated a mysterious figure near the treehouse and then discovered something unusual.
The story continues here.
Ali found Jan exactly where she expected – perched on the clinic’s front steps, surrounded by a small army of metal food bowls. A gray tabby wove between her ankles as she filled each bowl with precise portions of kibble.
“They’re acting weird today,” Jan said without looking up. Her dark braids fell forward as she shook a measuring cup of food into the last bowl. “Not just the strays either. Dr. Martinez’s whole morning schedule – every single pet’s been jumpy. Like they’re all picking up on something.”
Ali settled onto the step beside her friend, absently reaching down to scratch the tabby’s ears. “Muffin too. This morning, I spotted a shadowy figure near the treehouse-“.
“Wait.” Jan’s hand froze mid-scoop. “You saw it too? The shadow person?”
Jan glanced around before lowering her voice. “It was tall, moved weird. Right by the stage door, but when I blinked…” She shook her head. “Gone. Just vanished.”
“Same thing happened at the treehouse,” Ali said, pulling the metal disk from her pocket. “And I found this.”
Jan leaned closer, squinting at the strange markings. The tabby suddenly arched its back, hissing at nothing in particular.
“Pizza night can’t come soon enough,” Jan said as she wiped her hands on her jeans. “Remember when your dad suggested we all celebrate graduation at Ms. Greco’s? Who knew it would become our Friday thing?”
Ali’s throat tightened at the mention of her father. Six months since he’d left for that mysterious job off-island, and the weekly gatherings had become more than just tradition. They were an anchor, especially for Ali. Ms. Greco’s cozy farmhouse kitchen, the familiar scent of her homemade sauce that had cooked all day, her friends sprawled across mismatched furniture – it felt like family.
“Five o’clock,” Jan said finally. “Pizza night. The others need to hear this.”
“Ms. Greco’s sauce does need proper daylight to be appreciated,” Ali agreed, trying to smile. But her hand kept touching the pocket where the strange disk sat, and she noticed the stray cats all seemed to be staring in the same direction.
The sun was just starting its descent when Ali reached Ms. Greco’s farmhouse, the old porch swing creaking as Cooper shifted his laptop to make room for Archer. Brett had claimed the metal glider, its faded cushions perfectly worn in from years of Friday gatherings. The front porch stretched the length of the house, its wooden boards weathered to a silvery-gray that caught the early evening light.
Through the screen door, Ali could see Jan helping Ms. Greco in the kitchen, the familiar sound of plates clinking – real ones, never paper – mixing with the rich scent of garlic and herbs. Jasper sat on the porch steps, dark circles under his eyes suggesting another night of restless dreams.
“Perfect timing,” Ms. Greco called out, her silver-streaked curls escaping from a messy bun. “Another minute and I’d have had to referee a debate about Cooper’s equipment readings.”
Ali kept fidgeting with her pocket all through Ms. Greco’s usual “appreciate the sauce” speech, earning curious glances from Jan across the table. The disk felt heavier somehow, more significant after the morning’s events.
“Alright,” Cooper said, reaching for his third slice. “What’s going on? You two look like you’re about to explode.”
“We saw something,” Jan blurted out, just as Ali pulled the disk from her pocket and placed it in the center of the table.
The familiar kitchen fell quiet except for the gentle tick of Ms. Greco’s ancient peacock wall clock. The disk caught the evening light filtering through the kitchen windows, it’s strange markings casting tiny shadows across the checkered tablecloth.
“I found this by the treehouse this morning,” Ali explained. “Right after seeing… well, a figure. That somehow vanished.”
“Wait,” Jan leaned forward. “By the theater too. The same shadowy figure, just… marching between places.”
Cooper abandoned his pizza, reaching for the disk. “Can I…?”
Ali nodded, and the disk began making its way around the table. Each friend examined it with their own particular focus – Cooper turning it over with an engineer’s precision, Brett squinting at the patterns like she was memorizing a costume design, Jasper holding it with unusual hesitation.
“The markings remind me of wave patterns,” Archer said, passing the disk to Jasper. “Like the weird tide calculations I’ve been tracking near the north cave.”
“The patterns,” Brett said suddenly. “They’re like the borders on this old poster I found at the theater. From a swing dance competition back in—”
“Speaking of readings,” Cooper said, pulling up a graph on his laptop, “anyone else been hearing that weird hum? Started picking it up on my equipment this morning.”
“You can hear it too?” Jasper looked up. “I thought it was just… you know, part of the dreams.”
“It’s stronger here than at the treehouse,” Ali noticed, the vibration just at the edge of hearing. “Almost like—”
“The animals at the clinic have been acting strange since it started,” Jan added. “Like they’re listening to something.”
“It’s stronger here than at the treehouse,” Ali noticed, the vibration just at the edge of hearing. “Almost like—”
That’s when she noticed how the disk in her hands had begun to glow faintly blue.
“Wait,” Cooper straightened. “Do that again.”
“Do what?” Ali asked.
“The disk – it’s different when you hold it. Like it’s… responding?” Cooper reached across the table. The moment the disk left Ali’s hand, the subtle glow faded. They passed it around once more, everyone watching intently, but the patterns remained static until it returned to Ali’s palm.
That’s when she noticed Ms. Greco’s expression. The librarian sat motionless, her usually warm features frozen in a look of recognition that bordered on fear. Her eyes darted between the gently glowing disk in Ali’s hands and the window, beyond which the library’s dark shape loomed next door.
“Well,” Ms. Greco said finally, her voice unusually quiet. “I suppose it’s time.” She pushed herself up from the table with a slight wince, those troublesome knees of hers acting up again. “Cooper, dear, could you help an old lady next door?”
“Now?” Brett asked, glancing at her half-eaten pizza. “But it’s almost dark.”
“Some things,” Ms. Greco said, already heading for her coat, “can’t wait for daylight.” She paused at the door, looking back at Ali still holding the glowing disk. “Bring that with you. And Jan? Would you be a dear and make sure the porch lights are on? I have a feeling we’ll be a while.”
The group exchanged glances around the abandoned pizza. Friday night traditions had never been interrupted before. Not even during last winter’s blackout, when Ms. Greco had told stories by candlelight about the island’s history – stories that suddenly felt more significant than Ali had realized.
“There’s a book,” Ms. Greco continued, her hand resting on the doorknob. “One I’ve been… protecting, you might say. I always knew someone would come asking about it eventually. I just didn’t expect…” She looked at the disk in Ali’s hand, its blue glow now unmistakable in the dimming kitchen. “Well, I didn’t expect it to be quite like this.”
The walk next door had never felt longer, even though it was just a few steps past Ms. Greco’s carefully tended herb garden that separated her house from the library. The evening air hummed with that strange frequency they’d been hearing all day, stronger now, as if responding to their purpose.
Ms. Greco’s keys jingled in the twilight as she unlocked the library’s side door – not the main entrance Ali had used countless times before, but a smaller door that led directly to the reference section. Ali had always assumed it was a maintenance entrance.
She’d been wrong about a lot of things, it seemed.
More info about the story here.
“Shadows of the Keeper” is written by Julie D’Aloiso in collaboration with Anthropic’s Claude AI. Each chapter is crafted through creative partnership, combining human storytelling with AI assistance.
© 2025 Julie D’Aloiso All rights reserved.
