In the Darkness Visible - Elk Riders Volume One

Chapter 1: The Ship of Red Sails

It all began with sand; it all ended with sand. Gabriella's brother, Dameon, sifted through handfuls of the stuff, one fist over the other like an endless hourglass. He made a soft, almost inaudible groan as he did so. Anyone else might think him in distress, but Gabriella, long used to his ways, knew it was a sound of contentment. His blank, glassy-eyed stare was not one of idiocy but of deep concentration.

"He doesn't tire of it?" Eloise asked, striking at a cluster of mussels with a wedge-shaped rock. She grabbed the loosened shells and dropped them in the basket next to her.

"No," Gabriella said, moving her own basket closer to the bed of mussels she was harvesting. "It soothes him. Repetition usually does." Eloise stared at Dameon, his legs spread before him, his back hunched to bring his face as close to the stream of sand as possible. His was a round face, with hazel eyes, wide-set cheekbones, and thin lips were moving, as usual, as he mumbled incessantly to himself. His hair had been cut by their father with care, but no matter—it was still an unruly mess, flattened on one side, sticking up on the other, and presently dusted with sand. Dameon's sleeves were rolled up past the elbows. It was cold, the time of autumn to wear a cloak or at least to stay warm with harvesting work. But cold rarely affected him.

It was just that everything else did.

Eloise turned back to her mussels, chipping away at their bases and the fibers that fastened them to rocks. There was no sign of judgment in her face. She had never judged Dameon or ridiculed him. With her right arm stunted since birth, she too was an outcast among other children.

And Gabriella, as well, for the simple fact that she was Dameon's older sister and Eloise's friend.

The other children were not far. They had been sent to gather from the mussel and clam beds on the shore of the island, but they kept a stone's throw away from the three of them. They always did.

Clouds rolled down from the highlands, brassy patches of sunlight cutting through the white heaps to shine on the conifer trees on the slopes, the flattened fields of harvested grain, and finally the rocky shore of the island.

Gabriella noticed a warm shaft of sunlight open up on the rocks where the other children from the village laughed and called to each other as they worked. The light lingered on them for some time—like the favor of the heavens—before shifting out onto the sea, over the kelp beds where the otters played, and then into the open sea.

It was then that Gabriella noticed the ship. It was still too far out to see more than its sails, but even at a distance she could see they were reddish brown, the color of oxblood. She had never seen sails of such color. The other children were too busy among themselves to take notice. Gabriella said nothing and continued to gather mussels, certain that someone would spot it soon enough and, once that happened, their work would end.

Gabriella filled her basket and made her way over the rocks to Eloise's side. Eloise's arm slowed her down as she could not move her basket and collect shells at the same time. Normally she would accept help from no one, but Gabriella was the exception. Together they loosened the mussels in a comfortable silence until Eloise looked up, caught sight of the ship, and sucked in her breath.

"Look, a trading vessel!" she cried.

She said it loudly enough that the other children heard. A current of elation swept through them, their shrill cries spreading the word. New vessels always meant excitement at the docks, foreigners, unfamiliar foods and spices, and sometimes even toys and trinkets that the children of Harkness had never seen before. Already they were gathering their baskets, full or not, and making their way back along the shore toward the village.