Three young Vikings find a strange golden horn on a black-sand beach, and one blast of sound draws something huge out of the mist.
On the far northern island of Vargheim, the summer sun never seemed to hurry away. It hung low over the sea, turning the water silver and the cliffs red-gold, while the gulls wheeled above the roofs of turf and timber. That was the season Astrid loved best, because it meant one thing: Ghost Beach.
Astrid was ten, the blacksmith’s daughter, quick-handed and hard to keep still. She met Rurik there every year, because he collected anything the sea was willing to give up, from broken oars to bits of blue glass. Solveig always came too, carrying her woven basket and wearing that look that meant she had already decided this day would be an adventure.
Before the village was fully awake, Astrid slipped from her house in her reindeer-skin boots and thick wool coat. Rurik was waiting by the fence, hopping from one foot to the other. Solveig came racing down from the fjord, her braid flying behind her. Together they followed the path through pine trees and mossy ground until the land dropped away and Ghost Beach lay below them: black sand, white surf, and the ribs of old wrecks glinting in the light.
Solveig was first down the slope. Astrid nearly slid after her, and Rurik went skidding straight into a patch of seaweed with a shout of laughter. They spread out along the shore, poking through driftwood and shells, until Rurik’s voice suddenly rang out over the wind.
"Come here. Now."
Astrid hurried over. Half-buried in the sand lay a horn unlike any she had ever seen. It shone with a dull gold light, and strange runes curled along its side like tiny frozen flames. When Astrid lifted it, the weight of it pulled at her arms, and for a moment she thought she heard the sea whispering inside.
Solveig traced one of the carvings with one finger. "That’s old," she said softly. "Very old."
Rurik’s eyes widened. "Do you think it still works?"
Astrid should have told him not to touch it. Instead, she watched as he drew a breath, raised the horn to his lips, and blew.
The sound burst across the beach like thunder cracked open. Sand trembled under their feet. The waves slapped hard against the rocks. Then, through the mist rolling in from the sea, a dark shape appeared and kept growing larger with every heartbeat. A ship. A huge drakkar, its red sail swelling in the wind, was heading straight for them.