The downstairs of the hall was dark and cool. The air smelled a little musty, but the fire that had been made filled the air with the smoky aroma of burning birch. The children gathered around the hearth to listen as one of the nannies told stories of fairies and other pleasant creatures of the forest.

Three other nannies were in a separate room at the far end of the lower level, working to get the infants to sleep. A heavy blanket hanging in the doorway served as a curtain, to keep out the noise. The older children were given charcoal sticks and drawing tablets, while others arranged their hands and fingers in front of the fire to make shadows puppets on the wall.

Sally and Gracie however, had gathered their cousins and moved to a dark corner to discuss Sally's plan.

"I'm going to listen in on the meeting," said Sally.

"Sally, this isn't wise," insisted Gracie. "If we get caught, we'll all be in a lot of trouble."

"I don't mind getting into trouble if it's for a good cause," replied Sally.

"Well, I do," said Gracie, folding her arms across her chest. "What do you think you're going to hear that's worth getting into trouble for?"

"Something so important that they wouldn't even let you stay for the meeting."

"I'm sure it's for a good reason."

"Gracie, aren't you a little angry that they wouldn't let you attend?"

"No."

Sally frowned. "Not even a little? I would be mad if I was fifteen and they put me down here with the babies."

Nathaniel and Morgan looked at each other and then back at Sally and Gracie as they continued to squabble. "I would be angry," said Morgan as she played with her scraggly hair. "I would be very angry." She sniffed and wiped her runny nose on her sleeve. "And by the way...I'm not a baby."

"Shush, Morgan! This isn't your argument," scolded her brother, Nathaniel.

Sally looked around to be sure the nannies weren't near and then continued. "They're going to discuss the dark that's coming this way from the west."

Morgan dropped the strands of hair and stared at Sally with wide eyes. Nathaniel did the same. They both looked at Gracie, awaiting her reply. Overhead, muffled voices could be heard. The meeting had already begun.

"Of course, they are," said Gracie.

"Well, don't you want to hear about it?" asked Sally.

"Well...yes, of course, I do."

"Then you should listen to my plan."

After careful consideration, Gracie said "Alright, let's hear it. But if we caught, the three of us will say that we didn't know anything about it."

Nathaniel shook his head in agreement.

"I know about it," said Morgan, despite nodding. It wasn't clear whether she would keep her mouth shut or not, so they just ignored her.

"Okay..." Sally reached into her coat pocket and took out a small wooden box. "We'll make a distraction."

"What's in there?" asked Morgan.

"The distraction, you goof." said Nathaniel.

"I'm not a baby and I'm not a goof, either," snapped Morgan. She stuck her tongue out.

"Oh, no," said Gracie. She hadn't yet seen it, but she had a pretty good idea what was inside and took a step back.

"When I let them go..." said Sally.

"Them?" asked Nathaniel.

Sally ignored the question. "I'll sneak up the back stairs to the kitchen and then up to the storage loft over the main room. From there I'll be able to hear everything." Sally looked at each of them. "Okay?"

"What's in there?" asked Nathaniel.

Morgan wiped her nose on her sleeve again. "The distraction, you goof." She stuck her tongue out again and Nathaniel gave her a nasty look.

Sally shushed them. "You'll see soon enough. Do you all agree?"

"Okay," they all replied.

"But remember," said Gracie, "if you get caught, you'll have to answer for it. Alone."

"Fine," said Sally. She carefully lifted one corner of the box lid. Morgan and Nathaniel leaned forward to get a closer look. Inside, two tiny mice moved back and forth anxiously. Sally put the box down on the ground and stepped back. The mice darted from the box and then each paused to sniff the air.

Sally was already at the far end of the room moving among the shadows when the mice caught the attention of a few of the children who had been sitting by the fire. One of the little girls let out a cry of excitement, while two of the boys chased after the mice.

Just before the stairs, Sally crept by the infant room with expert stealth, the hanging blanket providing excellent cover. She reached the stairwell undetected and ascended.

Sally emerged from the stairway into a back room that served as a pantry. It was dim, lit only by a single candle. To her left, through a doorway, she could see the main floor where the meeting had commenced.

Through a window to the right, two guards stood outside the rear of the hall, engaged in quiet conversation. Sally darted to a ladder and climbed up to the storage loft. At the top of the ladder, she rolled onto her belly and scooted along a short floor to a ledge that overlooked the entire main floor. From here she could easily observe the meeting without being noticed.

After discussing the necessity for final harvesting of all crops and the need for more wool in preparation for winter, that pesky fox Miss Marion had spoken of and some other boring matters, Mayor Froswirth came to the focal point of the meeting.

"And we now will consider the pressing matter at hand. It is the issue with which everyone in the village is most concerned with. And that is, of course, the darkness in the west."

Any bits of conversation among the villagers dissipated. Sally listened intently.

"What is it?" someone yelled.

"What do we do?" questioned another.

"What it is we do not know," said the mayor. "But it is obvious that it is headed this way."

More people shouted from the audience. Mr. Dowery offered, "Whatever it is, its evil! My cows and goats are acting strange! Birds are flying away from the dark!"

"It's a storm!" some said.

Some shouted "It's a plague!"

"My good people," said the mayor, raising his arms and motioning for everyone to be silent. "There can come no good in worrying about that which we are not familiar with. Concern is certainly warranted, but we must continue with our lives and trust in the council to decide on the proper action to take."

"What do you propose?" some asked.

A man hollered, "We cannot do nothing and merely wait until it is here."

"We should leave here and move east!" someone suggested, but this idea was met with angry disapproval.

Sally searched the sea of faces, each of them wearing expressions of concern, her mother and father included. She spotted Farmer James who was standing in the back. He appeared to be looking directly at her. Sally ducked her head, bumping her chin into the floor. "Oof!" she mumbled.

"Let's be rational. We will not abandon our town," replied Mayor Froswirth.

"What can we do?" asked several people.

"We have come to the conclusion that this approaching darkness must be inspected more closely," said the mayor. "Preparations have been underway for the assemblage of a crew to set sail across the river." The crowd fell silent. Sally risked a peek. Farmer James was staring at the council. She must have imagined that he had been watching her. Guilty conscience. That's what her mother would have said.

The mayor continued. "This crew will board the Sea Splitter and sail across Northdayle River and seek an answer to the source of our collective anxiety. It will depart in two days."

The Sea Splitter was the village's main fishing vessel. It was kept in the Docking House at the bottom of Beach Hill (Beach Hill was just that: a big hill with a narrow road that sloped down to the beach). At the end of it was the big Docking House where most of the boats were stowed. Some people who lived at the south end of the village had tiny, private docks on their property. Sally had heard some villagers refer to these people as "well-to-do." She supposed they were jealous.

The mayor's news drew gasps from the crowd. Sally knew of the Docking House. She used to play around it, but no unauthorized persons (as the sign posted at the bottom of Beach Hill read) were allowed in it – or even near it. In fact, travel on the river had been restricted, except by designated fisherman. All others needed written approval from the Town Council. After a boat was sunk less than a year ago, all unauthorized sailing had been outlawed. Serving as a dark reminder was the mast of the sunken boat, still visible during low tide. Some say it was intentionally sunk by the Waterbourne - people that were reported to live in the water.

"Who will go?!" some shouted.

Others warned, "It's unwise!"

Farmer James stepped into the middle of the floor from the shadows. "If you need volunteers, I'll be the first." he bellowed. The crowd settled, for the farmer was well respected and his words valued.

Sally's eyes nearly shot from their sockets as Mr. Mordigan rose from his chair and stood beside Farmer James. "I'll go with him," he said. Sally covered her mouth to stifle a gasp. Others chimed in as well, including Uncle Bayard.

"Well, thank you Farmer James, and everyone else," said the mayor. "Your requests are much appreciated, and it would be an honor to have any of you aboard...however, a crew has already been assembled."

Some of the crowd responded with "Who?" or "What crew?"

"Those in the crew have already been notified and will be revealed at the launch," replied the Mayor. "There will be a ceremony on the shore at eleven a.m."

As the Mayor explained some more details, Sally noticed a dark figure emerge from a dimly lit corner. The way it hobbled along the floor was startling, for it reminded her of a hunched creature. As it drew closer, however, she recognized the person. It was the old hermit that lived up on the big hill just outside of the village perimeter. Some said that he was crazy and others believed that he was some sort of warlock that practiced dark magic. Sally didn't know what to believe.

Like other children in town, she had seen the old hermit from a distance on rare occasions, but to see him close up was frightening. He looked to be somewhat filthy. His clothes and his tangled, wiry hair were the same shade of deep gray. His garments were thin and torn and appeared to be spotted here and there with soot. He shambled along, leaning on a twisted walking stick that reminded Sally of a knotted tree branch.

The crowd grew quiet at the sight of the hermit. He stopped short of the council table and glared at the congregation. Then he turned and glared at the council. Everyone was still as stone for what seemed an eternity. Then he spoke in a surprisingly strong voice.

"Now there, Mayor!" he bellowed, pointing his stick. "Why don't you tell the good people the whole truth, now!"

Mayor Froswirth addressed the hermit. "Good evening, Mr. Boggledin."

Sally shifted in her spot. That was the first time she had ever heard the hermit's real name. "Mr. Boggledin," she whispered to herself.

"Enough of the pleasantries, now there, Mayor!" scolded the hermit. Some of the ladies covered their mouths, apparently surprised by the old man's audacity.

Sally watched as the stunned crowd listened to the escalating conversation. As far as she knew, Mr. Boggledin didn't attend the village events or meetings. In fact, he was seldom seen away from his home. He was often said to be intoxicated. Sally had learned that this meant he liked to drink lots of ale.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Boggledin. What is it that troubles you?" asked the Mayor.

Sally thought that the Mayor's concern seemed to be "put-on," – a term her mother often used. Sally believed that the Mayor just wanted the hermit to stop talking.

Mr. Boggledin wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his dingy coat. It seemed he had drooled a bit. "Well now, yes. You can start by telling these here folks about the rider from Belmeade."

Sally's heart thumped. She was so excited that she almost leapt up, revealing her position in the loft. Finally, an answer to the rider!

The crowd grew silent and turned their attention to the Mayor, who shifted in his seat. Sally thought the question had made him uncomfortable. Some people, it seemed, had no knowledge of the rider and his predawn visit.

"Mr. Boggledin, please," said the mayor. Sally thought it seemed like he was hiding something.

"If you don't recollect now, I think I could manage it." After a brief pause by the mayor, Mr. Boggledin turned and addressed the crowd. "Early this morning a lone rider from Belmeade broke through the village perimeter with urgent news."

Some in the audience gasped. "Is this true?" someone asked.

The Mayor winced, as though he had just stubbed his toe. Sally wondered what he would say.

"It's true, sure as I stand here, now!" yelled the hermit.

This news drew shocked looks and sounds from the people. "What!" they cried. "How's that?" others replied. "Can't be," some remarked.

Mr. Boggledin slammed his cane into the floor so hard that it broke in two – which was probably an undesired outcome - and caught him by surprise. He then threw the handle onto the ground too. The crowd had fallen silent from the display. Sally wasn't sure whether to be alarmed or to laugh and in fact, had to bite the inside of her lip to prevent herself from cackling. She regained her composure and remembered the seriousness of the topic when next the hermit spoke.

"But the rider ain't been seen since," said Mr. Boggledin.

A solemness settled over the townsfolk and the ensuing quiet magnified the air of secrecy surrounding the Mayor's dealings with the rider. The back and forth with the hermit had generated heavy suspense and the Mayor must've noticed because he quickly attempted to ease the tension, which hung in the air like a thick fog. "Please, everyone settle back into your seats. There is an explanation, I assure you." Members of the council pleaded to the congregation as well.

An angry chatter began to brew. Brows became furrowed and agitated fingers pointed. Undoubtedly, some eyed the Mayor with uncertainty; others without outright scorn. How would he counter Mr. Boggledin's allusion to misconduct?

The Mayor drew in a deep breath and said, "It is true. A rider did indeed penetrate our perimeter and it was for that reason that he is being detained. It was nothing more than a drunkard. The intruder also appears to be suffering from an illness of the mind. We have detained him until we determine where he is from."

Sally's eyes bulged. Liar!

Of course there was no way to prove that the mayor was lying. She had been too far away to hear much of the conversation he had with the rider, but deep in her gut she felt certain that the truth had not been told.

"What did he want?" someone shouted.

"What he wanted was unclear," said the Mayor. "The man appeared delirious. His speech was erratic and he displayed signs of sickness. And so he's being kept confined until it is determined safe for him to be seen."

"That is a lie now, Mayor!" yelled the hermit. More gasps from the audience. Mr. Boggledin hobbled toward the council's table and the mayor retreated a step. "He came here...to warn us!" the hermit yelled, and slammed his fist on the table.

Sally, and judging by the hushed room, it seemed the rest of the congregation as well, hung on the old man's every word. She realized her mouth was agape.

Mr. Boggledin's eyes darted back and forth. He scratched his frayed hair and said, "There's an awful thing on its way, that's for sure. Something evil."

"That may be, Mr. Boggledin. But right now, that is but speculation. We do not know for sure what the darkness means or what the rider may have wanted," said the Mayor.

"You know, Mayor!" the hermit cried out, pointing his finger.

"Mr. Boggledin! Control yourself!" commanded the Mayor. "Cease this behavior or I'll be forced to have you confined!" The Mayor motioned to the guards who moved toward Mr. Boggledin.

With eyes as wide as saucers, Sally watched as Farmer James grabbed his rake and walked toward the hermit. He gestured to the guards. "There's no need for that. I'll escort Mr. Boggledin."

Mr. Boggledin seemed to have ceased his verbal attack, but then raised his finger into the air and said, "There is but one thing that might save this town, now."

"I think we've heard enough of your ranting, Mr. Boggledin," said Mayor Froswirth.

The old man ignored the Mayor's words and continued. "One thing I say, now...the Sentinels!"

It seemed that not all of those gathered knew what Mr. Boggledin spoke of. They glanced at one another with blank expressions and some with raised eyebrows. Sally thought she saw a secretive glance exchanged between Farmer James and the hermit. She held her breath, waiting for him to say something else, but after a brief hesitation, he and the farmer left the hall and the doors were closed behind them.

Slowly the audience rose from their chairs and began milling about, whispered conversations commenced among small groups. The Mayor took up discussions with the other members of the council before turning his attention to the people.

"Rest assured everyone, I have every intention of doing what is best for Lush Acres. Plans have been in the making since the darkness was first spotted. Our ship will set sail in two days and we will discover its source. Worrying will only give rise to increased anxiety and will do no one any good. So please, for the time being, enjoy the rest of the evening." He motioned to the musicians in the corner and they unleashed a merry melody.

All the excitement had ended, so Sally sat up in the loft, wondering what Mr. Boggledin had meant when he mentioned the Sentinels. Sentinels were guards – but Lush Acres already had those. Why would additional guards be needed? What did the hermit know that perhaps the mayor did not? She would ask her parents about it on the way home.

After tensions had just begun to settle, the scene was disrupted once more as there was a commotion coming from the stairwell at the far end of the room.

Mayor Froswirth looked toward the stairs. "What now?"

Several of the ladies rushed toward the back of the room where they were met by a nanny and several screaming children running up the stairs. "Mice!" the children exclaimed.

"Oh, no," Sally whispered to herself.

"Mrs. Mordigan!" the nanny yelled. Sally's mother hurried over to the nanny. They whispered and then looked toward the loft. Sally had been discovered.