Island of Darkness by Richard S. Tuttle

around, she has yet to learn who she is dealing with.”
    “That’s the spirit,” grinned Temiker as he led MistyTrail out the back door of the schoolhouse.
    Mistake exited the building a moment later and the three of them walked to the small shipyard. Temiker entered the small shack alone and emerged a moment later with a large heavyset man. The man shouted and waved a worker to come to him.
    “This is Fuster,” announced the heavyset man. “He will take the boat to the village for you. One of the women will have to go with him. I only have two horses to lend to you.”
    “That will be Mistake,” nodded Temiker. “MistyTrail and I will ride the horses.”
    “You might as well start now then,” the man said. “Fuster will waste no time getting to the village. Bring him back quickly. He has more work to do today.”
    Temiker nodded and led MistyTrail towards the two horses tied to a post near the shack. Fuster nodded silently to Mistake and turned towards the docks. Mistake hurried along behind him. Fuster pointed to a new boat and told Mistake to get in. She jumped into the boat and Fuster frowned.
    “Be careful with it,” admonished Fuster. “I intend to deliver a new boat, not one with nicks in it.”
    “Sorry,” Mistake replied sheepishly as she sat on the small seat in the bow.
    Fuster nodded as a father would when a child had done something foolish. He stepped into the boat and unhitched the mooring lines. With a mighty shove, he pushed the boat away from the dock and immediately began to hoist the sail.
    “Good winds to the northeast today,” he said as he sat down in the stern and grabbed the tiller. “Getting out of the harbor will be quick and easy.”
    “Northeast is where Fakara is, isn’t it?” asked Mistake as she clung tightly to the rails of the boat.
    Fuster looked at her and frowned for a moment. “Aye, it is northeast,” he finally answered, “but a good long ways from here. Only a fool would take a craft like this that far. The sea can get downright nasty out there. You don’t know much about sailing do you?”
    “Oh, I know a lot,” nodded Mistake. “My father was a fisherman in Fakara. He had a boat much like this one. It was not new of course.”
    “Then why are ya gripping the rails?” asked Fuster humorously. “Relax lass. I will get you to the village with no harm done.”
    Mistake gazed up at the sails as Fuster guided the boat out of the harbor. She studied the lines and how Fuster had tied them off.
    “What happens when the wind is blowing the wrong direction?” asked Mistake. “How can you get to where you want to go?”
    “You always have to have wind in your sails,” Fuster smiled when Mistake showed an interest in his craft. “It doesn’t always have to be behind you, though. Watch the sails as I turn to parallel the coast.”
    Mistake watched as Fuster trimmed the sails and began paralleling the coastline.
    “There are a wide range of courses one can set for any wind,” instructed Fuster. “The worst is trying to sail into the wind. You just can’t do it directly. What you must do in that case is tack at sharp angles to your destination. In effect, you zigzag closer to your destination without heading directly into the wind. You will see me do this as we approach the village.”
    “And what if there is not wind at all,” inquired Mistake.
    “Ah,” sighed Fuster. “A sail is of no use without wind. That is why there are oars onboard,” he added as he pointed to two new shiny oars strapped to the side of the boat. “Rowing is good exercise, but a sail is what make travel possible. It would take me all day to row to this village.”
    Mistake nodded absently and gazed at the passing coast. She watched as the city of Alamar passed by and faded towards the horizon. As Fuster began to change directions, she turned and gazed forward. A small fishing village approached and she saw two riders on the beach heading towards it.
    “They are going to beat us