While their father visited his brother (Uncle Bayard lived only a short walk away), Sally and Gracie assisted their mother with the family recipes for the town meeting. Their contributions would be jam, apple butter and eggnog. The latter was often said to be "spiked" by the men during festivities. Sally believed this meant that they added rum to it. Her mother once said, however, that even though the men altered the beverage, some of the ladies partook in its consumption as well, and therefore, were just as guilty.

In the rear of the yard were a dozen apple trees which provided the fruit for their popular apple-butter, which was always in demand during the autumn season. In addition, eight peach trees provided the means for jam (the berries for the blackberry version coming from Farmer James' bushes). The milk for the eggnog was bought from Mr. and Mrs. Dowery's dairy farm, on the northeast fields of town. Once a week the family would sell their homemade goods at market in the nearby town of Tinston. One year the Mordigans were forced to turn people away, unable to fill orders because they simply ran out of apples. But then Farmer James told Sally that she could pick as many of the apples as they needed from his orchard; he seemed to have an endless supply.

Though she had sampled none but their own, Sally decided that their jam was so delicious that it had to be the best in the whole village. Of course, the Haplee family considered theirs to be the best and Sally sensed there was an unspoken rivalry between her mother and Mrs. Haplee. And then there was Devin Haplee, their eleven-year-old son, who Gracie and Sally cared very little for and who was quite possibly the most annoying brat in Lush Acres.

While Gracie helped her mother stir the apple-butter over the fire outside, in the kitchen Sally was busy cleaning the berries she had picked earlier. From the window she watched the afternoon sun as it began to sink in the western sky. Recently, because of the approaching darkness, the sun became consumed in a thick haze well before it reached the horizon, causing it to appear as a large, deep-red sphere.

Sally left the kitchen and went to the opposite side of the room, to the window that overlooked Monument Avenue - the road where the rider had been. At the intersecting road – Fernhill Road - which ran along the western side of the Mordigan residence, Sally watched as some of the townsfolk shuffled along the dirt lane, making their way toward Parish Hall for the evening's meeting. They were mostly older folks, who had to start out early because it took them longer to walk.

The town seemed to become a strange new place in the red twilight. Bathed in the sun's crimson glow, the old, cane-bearing travelers that passed by seemed more like demons than people. Sally half-expected to see their eyes smoldering with fire should they turn their heads and look upon her. She shivered away the thought and got back to work.

When they had finished the day's activities, the Mordigans washed up and changed into fresh clothes. They left their cabin and walked as a family to the hall. Each of them carried something for the meeting. Mrs. Mordigan, Sally and Gracie each held large jars of jam while Mr. Mordigan hauled the large pot of apple butter, which was very heavy and still quite warm.

Sally and Gracie greeted neighbors and met up with their Aunt Fauna and Uncle Bayard and their cousins Nathaniel and Morgan along the way. Like Sally, Nathaniel was twelve years old, three years younger than Gracie, and Morgan was seven. Morgan, who had long, scraggly blonde hair, had a lovely singing voice, but was always complaining about her name: Morgan Mordigan. She often grumbled that people would foul up and call her Morgan Morgan or even worse, Mordigan Mordigan.

Nathaniel had dark brown hair. Sally thought it resembled the color of potting soil. He was tall and skinny, but not a weakling. He was good at kicking a ball and according to Sally, could throw a stone farther than anyone his age. He was also quite adept at starting and handling a fire.

As they approached the Parish Hall, Sally glanced up at the colossal stone statues that stood just to the northern side of the building. They were taller than anything around, including the steeple of the Great Cathedral. Massive carvings, they depicted three mighty warriors - one wielded a broad double-sided axe, the middle figure stood tall, brandishing a long sword and the third held a large shield in one hand and a spiked mace in the other. Each had long, thick beards and wore heavy armor and horned helmets. Legend held that once, many, many years ago when Lush Acres had been threatened, they sprang to life to defend it. But that was just a fairytale. Sally thought of the towering statues though, as magnificent works of art.

They climbed the sturdy wooden steps to the hall. Outside, one of the two guards at the door smiled. "Well, hello there Mordigan family."

"Hello John," said Mr. Mordigan, patting the guard on the shoulder.

"Mrs. Mordigan, you look lovely," said John, bowing.

"Why thank you, sir," she replied.

John was a friend of the family who was sometimes invited to dinner. He was younger than Sally's father and admired for his skill with a sword, even though Lush Acres was rarely ever in need of a swordsman. Even Sally's father had commented on his skills with a sword and bow. The older men referred to him as Brave John, because they claimed he wasn't afraid of anything. In secret, Sally and Gracie would talk about how they thought he was very handsome.

"And who do we have here?" asked John, looking at the three Mordigan girls. "Well, if I didn't know any better, I'd say there were three beautiful princesses before my very eyes!"

Gracie, Sally and Morgan smiled sheepishly, each of their faces burning bright red. The adults all covered their mouths, trying not to laugh.

John bowed and kissed the back of the girls' hands. "Are your highnesses attending a royal celebration this evening?"

"Nooo," the girls giggled.

Laughter erupted from the onlookers. John smiled and said "Well, perhaps someday you shall."

As they continued up the steps Sally wanted to turn around and ask John what had happened to the rider from the north. He had been there, during the confrontation at dawn. She was sure he would tell her, if only she could ask. But she was shuffled along by her father.

Upon entering the hall, Sally knew at once that this was no ordinary meeting; it looked as though the entire town had attended. The men were gathered to the left, the women off to the right and all engaged in quiet chatter, while in the background played a guitar, accompanied by a flute. The large, open room was heated by two massive fireplaces on opposite walls. An iron rack was positioned a few feet in front of the open flames. Hanging from it were pots of ham and pea soup and beef stew. Ahead, large oak tables were heaped with plates of breads and delicious baked treats, including Miss Marion's pies. Her famous strawberry-pear was the centerpiece. Sally bit her lip in anticipation and tugged at Gracie's sleeve. The two exchanged wide-eyed glances.

Sally waved when she saw Miss Marion, who was neatly arranging the desserts. Then she heard Farmer James and his booming voice. He was talking to a group of gentlemen near the fireplace. In his hand he held his garden rake. It looked like an old, twisted tree branch with four metal prongs attached to the end. Sally laughed to herself. It seemed that he took it with him no matter where he went. She supposed it was also his walking stick. He was old, after all.

Long tables occupied the dining area, in the middle of the wide-planked floor. Parish Hall was one of the oldest structures in Lush Acres' history, bested only by the Great Cathedral. The floor and the beams in the ceiling looked as if they had come from enormous trees, the likes of which no longer grew here. As the story goes, it was one of only a few structures that survived from some catastrophe long ago. No one seemed to be able to remember exactly what that catastrophe had been, or at least they didn't openly discuss it. Sally had asked her parents about it on more than one occasion, but never was able to get a straight answer.

At the front of the room, standing alone, was a table and five chairs which were reserved for the village council members, one of which was Mr. Haplee, the husband of Mrs. Mordigan's rival. On the table was a piece of parchment and Sally suspected that scribbled across it was the meeting's topics. If only she could sneak a peek at it.

Once everyone had arrived, the heavy doors were closed. In all, four weapon-bearing guards were stationed by the hall's entrances, two at the front, two at the rear. At previous town meetings there had only ever been one guard at each entrance, but the town was uneasy.

The adults and children all ate dinner together in the main room. Then, desserts were sliced and given out. Sally and Gracie stared wide-eyed at one another as they took the first bite of Miss Marion's strawberry-pear pie. It lived up to Sally's expectations and was extremely delicious.

After dessert however, as the ladies prepared hot tea and the men drew their pipes and drank ale (or spiked eggnog), the children were lead downstairs by a few nannies to be watched over until the meeting was adjourned.

Sally hated this part of the evening, being banished to the basement with the younger children. She didn't want to miss this all-important meeting. Even Gracie - who since she had turned fifteen, was usually allowed to attend the meetings - had also been told to go downstairs. Adults only. That's when Sally became certain that they would be discussing the dark horizon.

She had to find a way to sneak upstairs. If there was one thing she was good at, it was sneaking...and she had already devised a plan.