As Jacob turned to leave the area of the fireplace, the entire room suddenly became intensely light
followed closely by a booming crack of thunder. Jacob and Ian both felt the shock of the strike in
their bones. A storm had suddenly descended upon St. Andrews with no warning. The moonlight
that had streamed through the window just moments before was now hidden deep behind thick
black clouds. Tree branches were bending hard from side to side in a frightening dance as if they
were warning the world of something that was to come.
“Come on, Jacob, lets get up to bed,” Ian was heading toward the door into the hallway under
the stairs as he spoke.
Another bolt of lighting lit the kitchen and the boys were again shaken with a thunderous crash.
This time the light revealed something different outside the window. Both of them saw it and both of
them froze with fear. Outside the window in the kitchen door was the silhouette of a man in a large
brimmed hat.
Before they could move another bolt of lighting and then a crash, this time it was the crash of
the kitchen door flying open and against the far wall. Dripping wet, the man in a long dark and oiled
raincoat and wide brimmed hat stepped through the door. More than six feet tall, the man would be
an intimidating sight at any time of day. Now, in the middle of the dark night and rain soaked, he was
positively awesome.
Their shock kept the boys from even noticing the tightness growing between their neck and
shoulder and then running down their right arms.
Neither could make out the stranger’s face and neither needed to in order to be scared out of
their minds. They stood without moving, as if their legs no longer worked. Jacob felt like he was
watching the scene unfold as if in a movie that he was observing from a distance.
“Well, now, boys, I think you have something for me . . . hand it over.”
Ian felt a scream escape his body as he turned to run. Two steps and his legs froze again as if
being held by an invisible force.
“Scream if you will, but I have put a hold on this manor house. No one will awake until our
business is well done,” the tall figure moved with long strides into the room and toward the table. As
he passed the hearth he waved his left hand gently at his side and the fire slowly grew to life,
casting a dull glow upon his face which was clean shaven.
He sat and pulled a knife from his side. It was a blade of intricate designs that he wielded as if it
were part of his own hand. He sliced a piece from the ball of cheese sitting in the middle of the table
and thrust it into his mouth on the tip of his silver blade.
“Now, boys, we can do this in a way that will not hurt or we can do this in a way that will hurt very
much.” The dark figure was now ominously sharpening his knife upon a stone he pulled from his
overcoat pocket.
“This is not our house,” Jacob interjected as he hoped this man would turn out to be common
thief, despite the trick he pulled with the fire. “What could you possibly want with us?”
“Little Bearer, you are not half so full of wit as you have been told; nor as clever as you like to
believe. I am not some common criminal here to take the candle sticks. I am here for you to give me
what you owe me.”
“Jacob,” Ian stammered a question to his friend who had now backed his way to standing
directly next to him, “do you know him?”
“Of course he knows me!” the man’s voice was raising and he turned to look them directly in the
eye, though his hat still cast a dark shadow over his face. “He knows me as the haunter of his
dreams . . . his dreams to come!” The man turned in his chair to face Ian and Jacob and then
crossed his legs revealing that he was wearing two black boots that rose up all the way to his knees
and were tied with extremely long laces that ran from his ankle to the top of his boots.
followed closely by a booming crack of thunder. Jacob and Ian both felt the shock of the strike in
their bones. A storm had suddenly descended upon St. Andrews with no warning. The moonlight
that had streamed through the window just moments before was now hidden deep behind thick
black clouds. Tree branches were bending hard from side to side in a frightening dance as if they
were warning the world of something that was to come.
“Come on, Jacob, lets get up to bed,” Ian was heading toward the door into the hallway under
the stairs as he spoke.
Another bolt of lighting lit the kitchen and the boys were again shaken with a thunderous crash.
This time the light revealed something different outside the window. Both of them saw it and both of
them froze with fear. Outside the window in the kitchen door was the silhouette of a man in a large
brimmed hat.
Before they could move another bolt of lighting and then a crash, this time it was the crash of
the kitchen door flying open and against the far wall. Dripping wet, the man in a long dark and oiled
raincoat and wide brimmed hat stepped through the door. More than six feet tall, the man would be
an intimidating sight at any time of day. Now, in the middle of the dark night and rain soaked, he was
positively awesome.
Their shock kept the boys from even noticing the tightness growing between their neck and
shoulder and then running down their right arms.
Neither could make out the stranger’s face and neither needed to in order to be scared out of
their minds. They stood without moving, as if their legs no longer worked. Jacob felt like he was
watching the scene unfold as if in a movie that he was observing from a distance.
“Well, now, boys, I think you have something for me . . . hand it over.”
Ian felt a scream escape his body as he turned to run. Two steps and his legs froze again as if
being held by an invisible force.
“Scream if you will, but I have put a hold on this manor house. No one will awake until our
business is well done,” the tall figure moved with long strides into the room and toward the table. As
he passed the hearth he waved his left hand gently at his side and the fire slowly grew to life,
casting a dull glow upon his face which was clean shaven.
He sat and pulled a knife from his side. It was a blade of intricate designs that he wielded as if it
were part of his own hand. He sliced a piece from the ball of cheese sitting in the middle of the table
and thrust it into his mouth on the tip of his silver blade.
“Now, boys, we can do this in a way that will not hurt or we can do this in a way that will hurt very
much.” The dark figure was now ominously sharpening his knife upon a stone he pulled from his
overcoat pocket.
“This is not our house,” Jacob interjected as he hoped this man would turn out to be common
thief, despite the trick he pulled with the fire. “What could you possibly want with us?”
“Little Bearer, you are not half so full of wit as you have been told; nor as clever as you like to
believe. I am not some common criminal here to take the candle sticks. I am here for you to give me
what you owe me.”
“Jacob,” Ian stammered a question to his friend who had now backed his way to standing
directly next to him, “do you know him?”
“Of course he knows me!” the man’s voice was raising and he turned to look them directly in the
eye, though his hat still cast a dark shadow over his face. “He knows me as the haunter of his
dreams . . . his dreams to come!” The man turned in his chair to face Ian and Jacob and then
crossed his legs revealing that he was wearing two black boots that rose up all the way to his knees
and were tied with extremely long laces that ran from his ankle to the top of his boots.
| Exclusive Excerpt from Book I--Feddinch House |
