Beyond the horizon, p.1
Beyond the Horizon, page 1
Beyond The Horizon
Book 1
K. J. Cloutier
Copyright © 2023 by K. J. Cloutier
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
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The characters, events, and settings in this book are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
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First edition February 2023
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Front cover image/design by Natalia Junqueria
Map design by Natalia Junqueria
Character art by Alana Meyers-Echegaray
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ISBN: 978-1-7778562-1-2 (paperback)
ISBN: 978-1-7778562-0-5 (hardcover)
ISBN: 978-1-7778562-2-9 (ebook)
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Published by Meraki Books
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www.kjcloutierauthor.com
For my mom,
who has always been my biggest fan.
Contents
I. The Outsiders
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
II. The Forbiddens
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
III. The Varens
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
IV. The Elemists
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Thank you
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Part One
The Outsiders
Chapter One
“You’re overreacting,” Liam scoffed. “It’s just a sea monster.”
“No, Liam.” Emery stared at the white pinprick on the horizon, barely breathing. “It’s definitely a ship.”
Her twin snorted. “That’s ridiculous.”
Emery leaned forward, squinting at the never-ending void of blue that was the sea and sky, ignoring the way the branch groaned under her bare feet and the rush of waves against the rocky cliff far below. An eternity of silence seemed to pass as the dawn sun crawled higher and the white pinprick grew. She squinted harder and details began to emerge. Three tall masts, half rolled-up sails, a giant wooden hull, multiple decks. She could even make out the wheel. Cold dread prickled along her skin.
Liam sucked in a breath. He could see it now, too.
“Who’s ridiculous now?” Emery whispered. Her brother had no retort this time, and the frigid fear seeped into her chest. “We have to warn everyone.”
“It’ll turn around.” Liam leaned casually against the redwood’s trunk, but she saw the way his hands shook behind his crossed arms. “They always do.”
This was true enough. In all of Emery’s seventeen years, they’d spotted a total of three ships on the horizon. Each time, the ship turned around before ever coming close to their island.
“But what if it doesn’t this time?” she asked.
“They haven’t found us!” he snapped, betraying his anxiety. Liam never snapped. “This ship’s just lost, they’ll probably turn around any moment. And even if not, they’ll never find the Break.”
Emery pressed her palms against the rough bark of the tree, hoping the familiar texture would center her emotions. Inside her, the cold fear waged war with the warming ember of something else entirely.
Exhilaration.
Because there were only so many possibilities as to who could be aboard that ship. They could be the Ungifted humans who have hunted Emery’s kind her entire life. But they could also be refugees, elemists like Emery and everyone else on the island, seeking asylum from the cruel outside world.
If it was the latter, it would finally mean new people to talk to. Maybe even her parents were on board, finally returning for them after so many years.
But if not, if it was the humans…then her home would be doomed.
Emery and Liam watched with thundering hearts, waiting for the ship to turn around like all the others. But the ship sailed closer and closer, heading for the northern edge of the island, straight for –
“They’re heading for the Break!” Emery cried.
“But…that’s impossible,” Liam said, his arms slack at his sides.
The Break was the only gap in the island’s perimeter of high rock, the only external access point to the island within, so narrow no one would even notice it from the sea unless they already knew it was there.
The ship sailed on, still on course for the Break, and then vanished from view around the bend of the island. Whether they continued to sail passed the island, or turned for the Break, Emery couldn’t tell.
Regardless, no ship had ever gotten this close.
Emery stared down at her brother.
He stared back, his face drained of color. “Sweet Eldoris,” he whispered.
Emery scrambled down the tree, leaping the last few feet onto a bed of moss and pine needles, and together she and Liam sprinted through the woods, so quickly that branches snagged their hair and ripped their tunics.
They skidded to a halt when they hit the beach. The islanders there were all peacefully occupied; frolicking in the bay, sitting in the sand weaving mats, or practicing with their lims. At Emery and Liam’s dramatic entrance, several stopped and stared.
And then the ship slipped through the Break, emerging inside the bay like a silent predator.
A stillness fell across the beach, like the trembling calm before an almighty storm. Nobody moved. Nobody made a sound.
A shriek pierced the silence, then another. The islanders erupted into a flurry of movement. Parents grabbed their children as most people dashed for the trees and the chance of safety their homes beyond provided. Emery swallowed down the sour taste of her panic. She knew she should probably run too. A degree of protection lay behind the trees. If a fight ensued, this beach would see the first bloodshed. But she could not bring herself to flee. Whatever happened next, she refused to miss it. If she had to fight, then so be it.
The villagers remaining on the beach began huddling together, hastily beckoning Emery and Liam over and pulling them into their cluster.
The ship still glided though the bay. Its sails were rolled, but paddles were poking out from both sides, guiding it through the water. The ship moved as if it belonged there, as if it knew exactly where it was going.
The wind shifted and Emery’s long dark hair began to whip her face. The sand beneath her was vibrating, the water at the bay’s edge frothing. Beside her, everyone stood rigid, hands raised and fingers curled. They were reaching out to the elements, manipulating them to their will, ready to strike. Emery had never wished more ardently that her own abilities would finally awaken properly.
Several young islanders beside her widened their stance and reached for the lims strapped to their backs. Emery reached for her own, holding the long, smooth piece of wood with a bulge at each side aloft as she’d always been taught. She held her breath, waiting for the battle to erupt. Her people weren’t going to go down without a fight.
The ship drifted to a stop, then floated silently on the turquoise water. The elements around Emery and her people roiled with energy now. But nobody moved.
Then, a smaller boat was lowered into the water at the ship’s side and three outsiders clambered in. Emery squinted, desperate to glimpse any clue that could explain who they were, but they were too far away to make out any details. Her people gasped as the boat skimmed across the water towards the southern edge of the bay – the area closest to where the Arch-Elemists lived. The boat landed on a small patch of sand among the rocks, and the strangers disembarked, heading for the trees edging the beach, straight towards her leaders’ home. Again, as if they knew exactly where to go.
Seeing the outsiders march towards their leaders seemed to finally spur the islanders into action. The adults next to Emery stepped forward, raising their hands in unison, working together to lift up a monstrous wave from the bay. It took shape momentarily, like a giant watery serpent eyeing its prey, then shot straight at the outsiders.
It crashed into nothing. As if it had hit an invisible wall just before the shoreline. The sea simply fell back on itself, creating giant ripples in the usually calm bay.
The man next to Emery, Aran, stumbled sideways, nearly colliding with her.
She grabbed his elbow to support him. “What just happened?”
Aran’s face wa
“The Arch-Elemists?” Liam asked.
“Or…the outsiders?” Emery added, limbs tingling with dread.
The Arch-Elemists were incredibly old, frail-looking beings, but they held immense power. They had raised the island itself from the depths of the seabed, one hundred and forty-nine years ago. All of Orabel stemmed from them, all bloodlines from the founding families they had brought with them, and so any important decisions concerning the island were left in their hands. It was they who consulted with the gods and elements, they to whom the gods would whisper the messages they shared with the islanders. Only four remained of the original fifteen. Emery had often wondered what would happen once they were gone. She hoped the answer was not unfolding in front of her right now.
Helplessly, Emery and her people watched as the outsiders slipped behind the trees bordering the beach. Through the foliage, the outsiders were barely visible as they approached the gigantic redwood tree that was the Arch-Elemists’ home, undaunted and unscathed. Emery waited for them to be thrown backwards by the force of the Arch-Elemists’ ancient, angry power, but again, nothing happened. Instead, the outsiders marched right up to the tree, and disappeared inside.
Chapter Two
Emery had spent most of her seventeen years listening to stories about people who lived beyond the island, but she’d never been particularly sure how much to believe the old tales.
“I’ve heard most of them have three heads,” Liam chirped when they were back in the hollowed-out redwood her family called home, sitting at the table with their sister Ayana. “Those we saw earlier must have been the runts.”
“Oh, shut it.” Emery threw a pecan at his forehead.
He caught the nut as it bounced off and shoved it in his mouth, barring his teeth in a wicked smile. “Don’t pretend you’re not curious.”
Their grandmother stood beside the table, thin lips pressed together and lines crisscrossing her face in places Emery was certain were smooth the day before. Their grandfather, similarly, was pacing round them, his steps soft on the packed-dirt floor. Despite Liam’s bravado, fear had crept into the room like some sort of sickness, one that had spread and infected every single person since the outsiders appeared. Less than half a day had passed since their arrival, but it already felt like an age.
“Grace says some of them have wings,” said Ayana with an attempt at cheerfulness, fluttering her frail fingers.
“That’s ridiculous,” Liam scoffed.
“And having three heads isn’t?”
“That’s enough!” their grandmother snapped. “Outsiders are just humans, like us. But most likely they’ll be Ungifted.” She straightened Emery’s tunic and pulled a lose thread from the sleeve. “Do you have nothing without holes?”
Emery looked down at her attire. Her off-white cotton tunic and brown woolen trousers sported a fair share of grass stains, and the hole over her right knee was glaring, but they were the cleanest and most intact pieces of clothing she had.
Their grandmother turned to Liam. “Try to do something with your hair.” She reached out to flatten it but he swatted her hand away.
“I’m not a child,” he complained. “And why should we bother looking proper for the outsiders anyway?”
“Do as you’re told,” their grandfather ordered. “Or you’ll be left behind.”
Liam fell silent, his dark shaggy hair tumbling over his face. Emery pushed her own dark hair out of her eyes and watched as their grandfather peered through one of the tree’s small round windows, as if expecting the outsiders suddenly to be standing outside, ready to kill them all. It was odd for either of her grandparents to snap, but clearly the anxiety was getting to them.
After the strangers had mysteriously entered the Arch-Elemists’ home, a few brave islanders had rushed to their leaders’ aid, ready to fight. But when they returned it was with unexpected instructions. The Arch-Elemists had sent them away, telling them not to be afraid, and instead to spread the word that there was going to be a gathering that night.
That was all they’d heard. Nothing was said about the outsiders, why they had come, how they’d found their way to the island, or if Emery’s people were now in danger. All they had been expected to do was wait. So, her grandfather continued to pace, her grandmother fuss, and her brother squirm in his seat, unable to sit still.
Ayana fiddled with the petals of a pink daisy growing in a pot on the table and whispered, just loud enough for her siblings to hear. “I heard the outsiders are only three feet tall and obsessed with daisies.”
Emery and Liam snickered, ducking their heads when their grandmother shot them another glare.
Ayana’s own laugh quickly twisted into a grating cough, rising from deep within her lungs like an awakening beast. Their grandmother’s glare shifted into a worried frown and she took a step towards her, but Ayana waved her off as if it were nothing. As if her cough wasn’t getting worse with every passing day.
The sound sent Emery’s stomach into knots, and the thought that had been repeating itself since the moment the outsiders had landed on their shore returned once more. What if these strangers weren’t there to destroy them? What if they could save her sister?
While her siblings sat picking through the bowl of nuts, she fiddled with the beads of bone and wood that were woven into her loose curls, then got up and began pacing around as well. She circled the table and chairs that had been carved directly into the base of the tree, making laps past the fireplace, a large cavity that had been gouged into the tree’s red-brown inner wall with a generous hole leading outside to filter away smoke. Her grandmother was standing there, staring into the flickering flames. To distract her whirring mind, Emery began rearranging the wooden plates and cups that lived in the little hollow alcoves lining the side of the tree’s trunk.
“Do you think it’s…them?” Liam asked suddenly.
Emery almost dropped the cup she was holding as her brother voiced the other thought she’d been trying most to avoid.
Them, he had said. Not mother or father, but them. As if they were strangers.
But then, they had disappeared when she and Liam were only babies, Ayana barely two. If ever they did meet again, it would be as strangers.
Emery watched Liam as he spun a nut on the tabletop. His face was impassive, as if his question hadn’t been a kick in the stomach for all of them. Grandmother continued to stare at the fire, her own face bleached of color. Grandfather looked at Liam though, lips pulled into a frown and eyes pained. He opened his mouth, but he either changed his mind or decided there was nothing worth saying after all. The silence stretched, growing brittle.
And shattered when a knock sounded at the door, causing them all to jump.
“Time to go,” her grandfather announced.
Emery smoothed down her tattered trousers and rubbed at a stain on her tunic, pulse suddenly racing. She took a deep breath, inhaling the homely aroma of damp earth, sap and sea salt before her grandfather pushed aside the layer of hanging vines and they stepped out of their home.
A crowd of islanders shuffled along the dirt path that wound its way amongst the giant redwoods, heading for the heart of Orabel. Emery noticed almost everyone was clad in tunics and trousers of cotton or wool, forgoing the often worn outfits woven from the island’s foliage. Since the islanders made these outfits using their ability to manipulate the elements, the exact reason why outsiders hunted them, Emery wondered if choosing to not wear such outfits that night was a subconscious effort to remain hidden. Even if was clearly too late.
