Maya came back to the island in the spring. The old keeper was waiting at the door of the lighthouse, and this time he was smiling.
"You kept your promise," he said.
She had brought the compass and the folded map. In the lighthouse, they opened the logbook together. Page after page was filled with weather, ships and small drawings. At the back, Maya found something new: a second map, drawn in pencil.
It showed another island, far beyond the first. Beside it, her grandfather had written: "The map is not the end. It is only the first question."
"Who can take me there?" Maya asked.
The old keeper pointed to the harbour. "Find Tomas. He is a sailor, and he is foolish enough to try."
Tomas was young, with a loud laugh and a small boat called the Starling. "That island has no harbour," he said. "We will have to drop the anchor and row."
They left before sunrise. The sea was calm. Maya watched the compass while Tomas watched the sky. By noon, the wind changed.
The storm came fast. Waves hit the boat like walls. Tomas shouted, "Hold the compass! Do not let it go!"
Maya was afraid. But she remembered the words in the logbook: The light needs courage before it needs oil. She held the compass steady and called out the direction.
Tomas turned the boat. For a long time, there was only rain and noise. Then, through the grey, a new lighthouse burned in the distance.
They dropped the anchor in a cold, black bay. The island rose in front of them, quiet and dark.
"Someone is living here," Tomas said.
Maya looked at the light. It was not a warning. It was an invitation.
A thought to keep
The map is not the end. It is only the first question.