Ellen Mordigan was busy slicing potatoes by the kitchen window, while Sally busied herself with chores in the yard and Gracie straightened up inside the cabin. The family had been notified by a messenger from the teacher, Mrs. Hensmith, that the girls' schooling had been cancelled for the day, in preparation for the meeting this evening. Her husband, Garrin, had been splitting wood and walked inside carrying four heavy logs. As he piled them beside the hearth, she voiced her disagreement over the decision. "It isn't wise to let on to the children that matters might be worse than some expected."

"I agree, Ellen," said Garrin. "There's no need to cease normal living. It only feeds apprehension."

"I doubt it was Mrs. Hensmith's decision."

"No...I don't believe it's hers to make. More likely it came from the village council," said Garrin.

Ellen shook her head. "The Mayor has some unpopular decisions."

"He believes he has more power than he actually does," replied Garrin. "That council of his is a sham. I imagine that the mayor routinely dismisses their advice. He has his own agenda."

Laying the knife on the counter, Ellen wiped her hands on her apron and turned to her husband. "What do you think it is Garrin? The darkness? Fire?"

Garrin sighed. "If it is, I've never seen one of that proportion."

Wiping a strand of hair out of her face, Ellen stared off, contemplating the magnitude of such an event. "What would we do if it is a fire?"

"We can do nothing but wait until we are certain that's what it is. But surely even the embers of a fire such as that wouldn't be able to cross the breadth of the river."

"Not here, but north, where the river narrows it might. Perhaps that was the rider's purpose...to warn us."

Garrin nodded. "Perhaps. I will inquire about his intentions at the meeting...I'm sure others will, as well."

Ellen moved to the door at the rear of the cabin and watched as Sally tended to the family's garden near the fence at the rear of the yard. Sally always helped maintain the family garden, but for so long had wanted vegetables of her own to care for. Finally, this summer her parents had allowed her to keep it fully on her own. It paled in comparison to the gardens on Farmer's James's plot, but it served them just fine. With her gifts – and the teachings of the farmer - Sally's plants had yielded much.

Garrin came up behind his wife and placed his arms around her and she trembled. "I worry about our children," she said. "Especially Sally."

"I know you do," said Garrin. "All good mothers worry about their children."

"And you do not?"

"Of course I am concerned about her, but as we both know...she's different than most children."

Ellen sighed. "I know...but she's only a child." She turned and faced her husband. "I have this terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. Like an awful fate lies ahead of us."

Garrin stared into his wife's emerald green eyes and she sensed him probing her thoughts, searching for an answer that would soothe her. But she thought that he too, felt the oppressive uncertainty of his children's future. Ellen knew there was little he could say to calm her anxiety, but he made the attempt. "Whatever the darkness brings, we will face it head-on. This is a community of farmers, yes...but some of us are deft with a sword as well."

Ellen sighed. "What good is a sword against fire?"

"What I mean is, we're resilient and will not back away from a fight, no matter the foe. We will overcome this obstacle. I'm sure of it."

Ellen looked past him and leaned her head on his broad shoulders.

"And what if resilience is not enough?"

•

Gracie had finished sweeping the upstairs hall and cleaning the linens in both bedrooms. She hated restocking the wood pile in the shed because mice ran freely in there, but Sally didn't seem bothered by them, which is why Gracie always volunteered to do chores inside.

Her parents didn't hear her descend the stairs and she stood quietly, eavesdropping. She hadn't meant to do so, but she caught them in a moment and didn't want to interrupt. If she moved from her spot, the floor could creak, and she might ruin a tender experience. Instead she leaned around a corner and watched them holding one another. She could almost feel the love between them. It seemed to flow outward from their embrace and engulf the home. Gracie smiled without even realizing it.

Besides, they had been discussing something that sounded very important. And it was about her sister and she would relish possessing knowledge that Sally did not. They had been talking about the darkness coming toward Lush Acres and what it could be. This scared Gracie and she flushed the thought from her mind.

Peeking around the corner again, Gracie found them still locked in an embrace. Slowly, her mother pulled away. "The rider you saw this morning," said her mother, "Was he from Belmeade?"

Gracie's eyes widened. The rider from the North; Sally had mentioned it to her in passing, but due to her parents' presence, had not been able to elaborate.

Her father sighed. "I don't know. Possibly. He was adorned in purple."

"It distresses me," said her mother. She had moved to the window. "We haven't seen a traveler, let alone a messenger from Belmeade in a very long time."

"True," said her father.

Belmeade was a mighty kingdom, and Gracie had heard they were fiercely territorial and their soldiers were feared. She couldn't guess what they might want with a small town.

As if reading her thoughts, Gracie's mother turned from the window and folded her arms across her chest. "Lush Acres is a tiny village. Our people keep inside our borders and stay away from trouble. What could Belmeade possibly want from us?"

Gracie's father had placed his hands on his hips. That usually meant he was upset. "If they felt crossed by our village, they would've sent soldiers. This was a boy...not much older than Gracie."

Gracie swallowed hard.

"What could it be, then?" asked her mother.

Her father drew in a slow, deep breath. "A lone rider suggests not an infraction against their people but perhaps something much more troubling...a plea for help."

There was quite a long pause in their conversation and Gracie was beginning to feel nosy. She banged her feet on the ground, pretending to descend the stairs and attracted their attention.

"I'm finished," she called, a little louder than she might normally. She entered the kitchen and smiled.

"Oh, good girl," said Garrin. He reached out and took Gracie's hand and twirled her around. She laughed and her father picked up his eldest daughter and hugged her tight. "I love you, Gracie," he whispered.

Though she recognized her parents' love for her and her sister, Gracie found it odd for her father to speak it as he did so now - so adamantly. She had the bizarre feeling that it implied some significant event that was near at hand. Perhaps it was the dark horizon. Understandably so, it had everyone on edge. Pulling him close, she suddenly felt herself full of emotion. "I love you too, Father."

Garrin kissed his daughter on the cheek and set her down. Gracie thought she saw wetness in his eyes before he managed to compose himself and he once again twirled her around.

Sally burst through the door. "What's this?" She saw Gracie and her Father dancing. "I thought I missed something."

"You did!" said her Mother. She grabbed Sally and spun her. They all danced and laughed as hard as they could.