In the Darkness Visible - Elk Riders Volume One

Chapter 7: Ghede

Omanuju was waiting at the edge of her family's property. They followed the wagon road until it bent south towards Mab Miller's land and the tower. Instead of turning, Omanuju struck a path directly into Frank Gregory's potato field and continued into the forest on the far side. The woods here were thick conifers that even on a bright day blocked out much of the sun from above, making a permanent dusk beneath their boughs.

At night the space underneath was pure blindness, yet Omanuju still managed to find his way, warning Gabriella of stones and roots that might trip her. Their path climbed rocky slopes and descended into dells with noisy streams that Gabriella could hear but not see. But mostly their path climbed, the descents becoming less frequent, and after a time they only ascended, Gabriella's heart beating loudly in her ears and her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Despite Omanuju's warnings, Gabriella still managed to stumble and trip, so much so that when they reached the island's interior highlands, her knees were scraped and her palms stung from catching herself. Omanuju helped her over one last set of boulders and then stopped. Here the island opened up to its own sea of grass that covered most of the rolling land of the interior. No longer beneath the trees, they could see the stars stretching from one horizon to the next. The sliver of moon had tracked into the center of the sky. Compared to the darkness of the forest, this meadow was positively bright. Gabriella could make out the shape of undulating hills and ridges silhouetted against the spray of stars to the south and west.

Omanuju rummaged through his pockets, drew out a small object hung on a strip of leather, and handed it to Gabriella. She took it in her hands and studied it, running her fingers along the length of leather.

"It's a whistle," Omanuju said. "We're far enough away from the village now to sound it."

She obeyed, putting the tiny instrument to her mouth. Although polished and gleaming like metal in the moonlight, it was not cold to the touch. Rather it felt warm on her lips. Its call was a sweet note that nonetheless pierced all other sounds around them—the wind in the evergreens, the chorus of crickets, the mournful call of a night lark. All the natural sounds around them diminished as if arrested by this one note that swelled with her breath and filled the wide chamber of the night, all the way to the starry vault above. When she had finished, the sound still echoed in her ears. She looked to Omanuju for some sign of approval. When she held out the whistle to return to him, he shook his head.

"Keep it . . . you might need it later. Now listen."

She hung the whistle around her neck and turned her ear to the meadow. She could hear hoof beats approaching and she imagined a horse of some kind. Before long it was upon them, but as the hoof beats neared, she realized that this was no horse. It was the right size, but the shape was off—the head a measure too short. The ears were misplaced—too far out on the sides—and the shoulders a hand's length too high. The moonlight moved across its fur like the shine on iridescent ink. Gabriella caught her breath when she realized that a rack of gleaming antlers crowned the animal's head.

"An elk. Of course, Old Man Ant is for Old Man Antler," Gabriella said, not realizing she spoke aloud.

"Careful who you are calling old," Omanuju said, his teeth flashing a smile. He bent down to the rocks they stood on, pulling forth two saddle bags that he slung over the waiting elk.

Gabriella was still trying to take the creature in. The fur was a dark grayish brown if she discerned it correctly in the weak light. The underside of the neck was white and shaggy. But it was the animal's eyes that were most striking. When she caught the moon's reflection in them, she was startled to see the animal looking back at her in a steady, almost knowing stare. She stepped backwards, feeling self-conscious as if she had been caught staring at a stranger.