The Lords of Valdeon by C. R. Richards

of it. His trip to the Logan Farm would have to wait. He had to find Nan.
    Sunset crept across the fields, sending its shadows over the hills. Gone was the comfort of the familiar as imaginary phantoms haunted the darkness. Seth stayed within the sun's fading rays, ignoring the images from his troubled thoughts.
    Edmund.
    Crying a child's tears many nights under the headmaster's roof, he'd prayed for his real father to rescue him. Life with his uncle forced Seth to face the truth. The man who had sired him was long since dead. If he was to escape his uncle, then it must be under his own power. Today the truth he had reluctantly accepted was proven to be a lie. Was the real truth about Edmund any better?
    Know your father. Know yourself.
    It was a saying that guided the Grey Cliff Islanders. They held firm to its simple wisdom to define futures and keep their way of life. Seth tugged his cloak tighter about him. His seventeenth birthday was a few months away. Soon he'd take his first steps into manhood. He wasn't prepared to enter his future as a bastard.
    A cream-white tail whipped against the backdrop of dying meadow grass. Seth ran to catch the broken limb trailing behind Nan. She turned her head at the tug from her fallen reins. Blades of grass hung from her mouth as she casually chomped.
    "Great gulls. Must you always stuff your stomach?"
    His fingers, chilled by the cold mists, couldn't manage the knot. He growled down at the branch. A great pop filled the empty field as it broke apart in his hands. Splinters of wood showered down upon his boots. Nan tried to bolt at his unexpected show of temper, but he held her reins tightly. Jumping into her saddle, he hurried them back toward town.
    The road took his pony a little closer to the southern cliffs. Distant waves crashed against rock. Seabirds circled over his head as they sailed upon the wind. Strange. Darkness was a danger to the birds. The winds dashed them against the cliffs well enough during the daylight hours.
    Putting them out of his mind, he concentrated on his own worries. Seth took a deep breath and held it before lifting his hands from the reins. Tilting them under the fading sun, he found no bloody scratches or bruised skin.
    "The branch must have rotted through, Nan. How else could you have broken away so easily?"
    It was a reasonable explanation. And when the headmaster had insulted his father in front of his friends, a tremendous gust of wind had helped him flip over a wagon. Many such strange things had happened over the past year. All of them had been coincidental. Seth frowned down at his unscathed hands. Lies would not still his troubled heart. Something was happening to his body. The changes were growing stronger each day. Soon he would be unable to hide it from his family.
    Sighing, he looked out across the empty fields in the dying light. Herds of woolies normally roamed here, feeding upon the tasty meadow grass. The sheep farmers had taken their herds closer to the barns for the fast approaching winter season. Seth shivered at the silence the absence of their soft bleating left. It was lonely on this stretch of road.
    The reassuring flames of the Lookout danced in the swirling winds. Their movements flickered shadows upon the stone structure. Small figures of the Haven Bay Militia walked lazily up the steps toward the stone platform. Facing out into the open waters, they stood watch for Amity Island raiders. It was an unfortunate islander who met raiders alone at night. The villains were vicious men from a nearby island who made their living robbing their neighbors. Isolated with limited protection, little Marianna was their favorite target.
    "Easy, Nan. We’ll be home soon."
    Seth patted the pony's neck to calm her. Cutting across the fields might get them to the stable master’s barn before his impatience grew to anger. Taking the lantern from its tie upon his saddle, Seth ignited the comforting flame. He spurred Nan off the Main Row and into