The Amulet (Custodian Novel # 1)

by Alison Pensy

CHAPTER TWO

  Faedra sprinted up the stairs to her bedroom, followed, as usual, by her faithful friend. She drew up the latch on the door, which was also of the original old wrought iron variety, and entered her room. Throwing her bag clumsily on the bed, its contents fanned themselves out all over the comforter because the clasp was not closed securely enough. She gave the mess a look of nonchalance and shrugged her shoulders. It was the weekend and she didn’t care, it could be tidied up later.

  Her room was spacious and located above the living room, but unlike the room below hers, this one had tall vaulted ceilings. Another fireplace stood on the same wall as the door. She assumed it connected to the imposing fireplace in the dining room below. The walls were painted in a muted yellow and the windows were dressed with floral drapes that looked completely at home in the old cottage. On the opposite wall to the fireplace, stood her dresser with a beautiful antique vanity mirror and an array of toiletries and cosmetics. The type that adorned most of the dressers owned by seventeen year old girls. On the other side of the window was a desk. It was more modern and looked very out of place in her quaint bedroom. A beautiful heirloom doll’s house stood on its own platform opposite her bed. Her mother had given it to her when she was a child and had told her the story behind it. She had treasured it ever since. Her grandfather had built it with love for her grandmother, who passed it to her mother when she was a child. Her grandfather also made all of the furniture inside the house. She often stared in awe at the intricate detail of the tiny pieces, wondering how two big human hands could have created such delicate objects. There was an old wicker chair next to the doll’s house with a fleecy pale green bathrobe draped over it.

  On the wall next to the fireplace there was a small built-in closet that she had renovated, adding a glass door and shelving, to be a showcase for her spectacular collections of fairies. Her favorite, Arianne, taking center stage. She’d been collecting them ever since her mother had given her the beautiful figurine of a fairy on a stunning black horse, the day she died.

  “You don’t think I’m being mean, not letting Dad throw me a big birthday bash do you, boy?” she asked Faen as she opened the door to her collection, reaching in and carefully picking up the figurine of Arianne. “But it’s just too close to Mum’s anniversary and I can’t bring myself to celebrate when it’s that close.”

  Faedra never felt compelled to celebrate her birthday at all, as it fell just a few days after the anniversary of her mother’s death. Faen leaned up against her leg and let out a small whine. She admired the figurine for a moment with sadness. It was the most beautiful fairy she possessed, but it was linked to the saddest memory she possessed, also.

  “Ouch, here it goes again,” she winced, and replaced the fairy in her showcase and looked at her palms. “I wish I knew why they did that,” she stated, blowing on the palms of her hands in an effort to cool them.

  For the past few weeks the palms of Faedra’s hands had intermittently seared with a burning sensation, but there was never a rash or any redness. She couldn’t understand what was causing it. She was starting to get concerned about it as the intensity and frequency was increasing. She made a mental note to go and see a doctor; though, she wasn’t sure what he would say when there was no visible sign that anything was amiss.

  “He’d probably just think I was crazy,” she thought out loud.

  Faen barked, distracting Faedra from her reverie.

  “Okay, okay, I’ll get ready, just hold your horses.” She smiled at him. She knew he loved going to the horse barn with her and jogging alongside when she took her horse out on a trail ride.

  She opened up her clothing closet on the other side of the fireplace, and pulled out her jodhpurs and a t-shirt, then discarded her work clothes to join the disarray already building on her bed. She wiggled into her jodhpurs - it was a good thing she was slim, as they didn’t leave any room for expansion - pulled on her t-shirt, and wandered over to the dresser. She scooped up the mass of curly red hair that was tumbling down her back and tied it in a ponytail at the nape of her neck then turned and headed for the door.

  “Come on, boy. Let’s go.”

  She popped her head in the kitchen doorway on her way out.

  “Be back later, Dad. Bye, Uncle Leo. Bye, Nicki, see you soon.”

  Choruses of have fun and ride carefully resonated from the table, but she had already turned and was heading for the front door.

  “Love you guys.” she called over her shoulder as she exited into the living room.

  Once inside the porch, she pulled on her riding boots and marched out the front door. Faedra wandered round to the right where the climbing rose bush was blooming in all its glory against the front wall of the cottage. She carefully picked one stem with a bud that was just about to open, then strode over to the car, opening the back door for Faen first, who jumped in wagging his tail. She got in and laid the rose with care on the passenger seat as if it was the most delicate thing she had ever handled.

  Her horse was stabled at a barn just a short drive away on the other side of the village. It only took a few minutes to get there by car; before she could drive, she had ridden her bicycle there come rain or shine. The boarding stables were another of her favorite places, not only because it was home to her horse, but because it, too, was a historic building. It used to be an old farm and the section that housed the stables dated back to when they had to pull the plough by draft horses. The stables lay abandoned for the longest time until the owner decided to retire from the farming business and renovated them to rent out. The buildings were full of character. Faedra often found herself imagining what it must have been like to see the heads of all those big draft horses leaning over the stall doors, before the advent of tractors had made them all redundant.

  She pulled into the small car park that was set aside for the boarders, picked up the rose from the passenger seat and hopped out of the car, opening the door for Faen so he could join her. She took a deep breath and looked across the road to where the village church stood proudly amongst the headstones that were dotted about all over the church grounds. The vicar once told her that the original part of the church was built in 1160. That was old by anyone’s standards, and the two bells that hung in the square bell tower were thought to be the oldest in England. One of them was from 1350 and the other from the fifteenth century. It never ceased to amaze her that something that old could still be standing.

  “Come on, let’s go say hi to Mum,” she said to Faen and looked both ways down the narrow country lane before crossing.

  She wandered up the little path that led to the church. Upon reaching the door she veered off to the right and followed the path that led behind it. There, spread out before her, was the main part of the graveyard, the section where her mother had been laid to rest nearly twelve years prior.

  An odd sensation washed over her and she snapped her head to the left in the direction that it came from. This had been happening more frequently on her recent visits to the churchyard. Yet again, there was nothing there except the familiar figure of a black and white border collie, who upon seeing Faedra, came bounding over wagging her tail so vigorously her whole body wiggled in synchronization with it. She assumed the dog belonged to the vicar, but had never seen them together. When the dog reached Faedra, she sat down in front of her, looked up and gave her a definitive smile. The first time she had done this, Faedra thought she was baring her teeth in a vicious way and had been quite unnerved. But it became apparent that the dog was ‘smiling’, and it was the funniest thing she had ever seen. When the dog ‘smiled’ she also squinted her eyes in an ‘I know something you don’t know’ fashion.

  Faen growled faintly at the other dog as he always did, and, in response, the collie rubbed her head under Faen’s chin just as she always did.

  “Be nice, Faen, I think she likes you,” Faedra giggled. If a dog could go “urmph”, she swore Faen
would have. The look of dejection on his face was priceless. It was as if he were an older sibling being forced to play with a younger brother or sister.

  She bent down to pat the friendly hound, and when she was finished, the dog got up and trotted back to where she always sat, in front of the northwest corner of the church. Faedra stepped off the path onto the manicured grass and meandered her way through the headstones until she reached her mother’s.

  “Hi, Mum,” she said, placing the rose she had picked earlier on top of the stone, replacing the one from a few days before that was now shriveled and dry.

  “Just thought I’d pop by and say hello before I take Gypsy out for a ride.”

  “Good evening, Faedra.” A voice called from behind her. She turned.

  “Oh, hello, Vicar. How are you this evening?”

  “Very well thank you, my dear. I see you are off for a ride this fine day,” he replied, taking note of Faedra’s clothing.

  “Sure am. It’s a beautiful evening for it.”

  “Well, you have fun, my dear,” he said before heading towards the vicarage.

  “Excuse me, Vicar,” Faedra called out after him.

  “Yes, dear?”

  “Does that black and white dog belong to you?”

  “Which black and white dog, dear?”

  “That one…” Faedra’s voice trailed off as she noticed the empty space in the direction she was pointing. “The black and white collie that always sits over there.”

  “Can’t say I’ve ever noticed one. Must be a stray; we don’t have a dog.”

  “Oh, never mind then,” she said, drawing her eyebrows together as she watched the vicar walk out of sight. She looked over to where she had just pointed, and, sure enough, the dog was sitting there again like she’d never left.

  “Hmm, that’s odd,” she said, looking down at Faen and shaking her head. “Come on, let’s go get Gypsy tacked up. Bye, Mum, I’ll be back soon.” She kissed her fingertips and pressed them against the headstone, letting them linger for a moment, before turning toward the path and heading back in the direction of the horse barn.

  When she walked back over to the barn, she noticed her friend getting out of a car and wandered over to greet her.

  “Hi, Lisa, going out for a ride tonight?” she asked.

  “Haven’t made my mind up yet. Which trail are you thinking of taking?”

  “I thought I would go through the woods; it’s warm and the shade would keep us cool.”

  “Nah, then I’ll have to say no, Fae. Those woods give me the creeps,” Lisa replied with a shudder.

  “They do? Why?”

  “I can’t explain it. I just get a weird feeling in there, freaks me out.”

  Faedra raised her eyebrows at Lisa’s descriptive distaste for the woods, but that wouldn’t deter her. She had always loved riding through the woods and never felt anything weird, must be Lisa’s overactive imagination.

  “Okay, no worries. We’ll catch up for a ride somewhere else another time then?” Faedra said as she made off in the direction of the paddocks.

  “Sure thing, Fae. Catch you later,” Lisa was already across the car park and heading toward the stables.

  Gypsy was grazing at the far end of the field when Faedra and Faen reached the gate to her paddock.

  “Gypsy!” Faedra called. “Come here, girl!”

  Gypsy’s head popped up and looked in Faedra’s direction. It was obvious she recognized her voice. Her horse turned and started to walk toward the gate, then the walk turned to a trot, which turned to a canter, until the thunder of her hooves could be heard on the ground. Faedra grinned. She loved that sound. It was a sound she always associated with a feeling of freedom. That’s just how she felt when she was on Gypsy’s back going that speed. The wind in her face, the thunder of hooves below her, and the countryside zipping past in a blur as they flew like the wind along the trails.

  Gypsy was a striking beauty in Faedra’s book. Her coloring was classed as blue roan, she had a black coat with white flecks all the way through it that gave her a bluish tinge from a distance. She had a black mane and tail, and a white blaze down the length of her face that had an odd crescent shape to it just below her ears. Three of her legs had white socks that went almost up to her knees and one back leg had just an ‘ankle sock’. Gypsy slowed as she neared the gate and walked calmly until she was standing just before it. Faedra leaned over the gate and held out a treat for her. Gypsy nuzzled the palm of her hand, gently picking the treat from it.

  “Hi, girl,” Faedra whispered, rubbing her hand down Gypsy’s face. “Ready to go for a ride?”

  She climbed up and over the gate and reached up to put the halter over Gypsy’s head. When the halter was fastened, she unbolted the gate and led Gypsy through. Once they reached the stables, Faedra tied her to the ring on the wall just next to her stall and proceeded to groom her. She paid special attention to getting the knots out of her mane and tail. It didn’t take long after that before Gypsy was saddled up and ready to go.

  Faedra put on her helmet, mounted her horse, and rode out of the yard towards the trailhead, Faen keeping pace behind them. She would have to ride a few yards down the road to reach the entrance to the trail that was on the opposite side of the lane to the barn. The farmer had opened up all of his land to the riders after renovating the stables. He’d created several trails that went off in different directions. Faedra’s favorite was the one that followed a stream and then led into and through a thick stand of trees.

  The sun was starting to dip in the sultry evening sky; yet another reason she loved the woods. Her ride started out heading towards the sun. The woods made a handy shade so that she didn’t get blinded when the sun dropped to eye level as it was setting. She considered its position in the sky and made a mental note that she had about an hour of riding left before it got too dark. Although Gypsy was very adept at finding her way in the dark, she knew her father would worry and didn’t like to give him any reason to.

  She always let Gypsy warm up first by walking her for a while. Faedra drifted off into a daydream as she watched the sparkles of light dance in the water of the gently flowing stream to her right. When she was ready, Faedra squeezed her calves and made a soft ticking noise with her mouth to ask her horse to move forward into a trot, which Gypsy did quite willingly. The sun was getting brighter by the minute and Faedra was relieved that the opening to the woods was just up ahead.

  “Okay, girl, slow it down,” she asked, and with a squeeze of her hands on the reins Gypsy responded by coming down into a walk again.

  They were at the mouth of the woods and Faedra wanted both of them to adjust their eyes to the decreased light before increasing their speed. She was glad she slowed them down, because as soon as they entered the trees, Faedra, at least, was blinded for a moment while her eyes adjusted to the darker surroundings, but she put her trust in her horse to keep on the path until she could see clearly again.

  The chinks of light from the sun poked their way through the foliage, creating shards of illuminated, see-through swords, which rained down from high in the branches to the ground below. As they rode through them, the shards were distorted, contouring around their bodies. Faedra squeezed Gypsy’s sides to push her up into a trot again; she enjoyed picking up the pace in the woods. After a few strides in trot, she asked for canter and looked round to check and make sure Faen was keeping up. He was right there on Gypsy’s tail, and hardly even panting.

  Faedra wondered when Faen was going to start showing his age. He must be nearly thirteen years old by now because he was full-grown when she had found him, or rather he had found her, and that was getting old for a dog. Yet, he still kept up with Gypsy and didn’t show any signs of slowing down. She looked forward again, not having to worry about guiding her horse through the trail that led through the woods. They had cantered down this path so many times before, but she enjoyed watching the tr
ees fly past. Faedra thought they must have been half way through by now.

  In a split second, everything changed. Gypsy came screeching to a halt, throwing Faedra forward and forcing a plume of dust up from the trail. Faedra caught hold of her horse’s neck and clung on for dear life until she managed to regain her balance. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she sat up straight in the saddle and repositioned her feet in the stirrups. She looked all around her in desperation to see if she could spot what had made her horse react so out of character. She could see nothing unusual, but Gypsy continued to be agitated. Her horse started neighing and pawing at the ground, which was creating quite a dust cloud. Faedra became more and more unnerved the more agitated Gypsy became.

  “What is it, girl? What’s wrong?” she whispered, trying to calm her, but Gypsy just kept getting more and more disturbed.

  “Steady, girl. Steady,” she took a shorter hold on the reins and attempted to turn her horse around so they could leave. It had become evident that Gypsy was not going to move forward another step.

  Just as Faedra thought she was calming Gypsy down, her horse spun and reared all in the same move. There was nothing Faedra could do. She had lost her footing in the stirrups. It was such an explosive movement that she was thrown violently from the saddle, hitting the ground with so much force, making a loud ‘oomph’, knocking all of the air out of her lungs.

  She could hear the thunder of hooves grow softer and softer as the distance grew between her and Gypsy. She couldn’t move to lift up her head and watch as her horse fled the woods in terror. She couldn’t catch her breath either. There was no air getting into her lungs. She grasped at her chest, partly in desperation, partly in fear.

  Oh, God, I can’t breathe. What happens if I can’t breathe? I’ll die. The terrifying thought swam through her head and she could feel herself starting to panic. Her lips started to tingle, and her fingertips followed suit. She opened her eyes and could make out the shards of light raining down on her but couldn’t focus completely.

  “Faen?” she gasped.

  A menacing growl resonated from deep within her dog, who she could sense was standing close beside her. She unclasped her arms from her chest and searched with her hands either side of her body for her faithful companion. Relief filled her heart, which was pounding wildly within her ribcage, when she felt his soft fur with her fingertips, and, at the same time, she was able to catch her first breath.

  Her breathing was very shallow at first, but steadily became stronger as the moments passed. When she was able to take a deep breath, she did so, and promptly coughed it back up again. She had taken a lung full of the dust that Gypsy had kicked up during her chaotic panic attack and subsequent departure. While lying on the ground, she did a mental inventory of bones, moving each limb with caution to see if anything was broken. Nothing seemed to be, so heaving a sigh of relief, she pushed herself up into a sitting position.

  “Oh, good grief, I’m a mess,” she groaned, glancing up and down her legs and arms that were now covered in muck and dust. Her clean white t-shirt was more of a khaki color now. There was a tear in her jodhpurs and her shiny black boots were scuffed and dusty.

  She sat still for a moment to check and make sure she did not have any searing pain, she didn’t.

  “Well, I don’t think anything’s broken, boy,” she stated to Faen.

  He looked around at her and allowed one wag of his tail in response. Then he turned back to what he was staring at intently in the trees and continued his ominous growling. Faedra took more notice of it this time because she could see his posture, too. If he were not her dog, she would have been pretty darned frightened of him right at that moment.

  Faen stood in a stance that would allow him to pounce at any second. His hackles were standing tall on his back and his tail was held rigid. He had all his teeth bared. Faedra could hardly recognize this dog as being her Faen. His growl was menacing and it sent chills up her spine.

  “What is it, boy?” she whispered, as she looked into the trees where he was staring. Her eyes widened with fear as she caught sight of what Faen would not take his attention from and gave an involuntary gulp.

  “Please tell me those aren’t eyes,” she stammered. She wasn’t sure if she was expecting Faen to reply, but he did with another menacing growl.

  There, hiding within the shadows of the trees, were not one, but two sets of what looked like yellow eyes glowing hideously in the darkness.

  They could be cats. No they were too tall for cats, and cat’s eyes were more rounded. Not dog’s eyes either, she pulled in a sharp breath; they looked like smaller versions of human eyes.

  “What are they? Who are they?” Faedra asked. Again, Faen growled in response.

  The eyes turned to look at each other, then moved up and down as if the owners were nodding to one another in agreement. They then turned back to look again in Faedra’s direction.

  Faedra felt like a wave of ice cold water had just splashed over her, and she froze where she was, still sitting in the dirt.

  Run, Faedra!

  A familiar voice bellowed in her head. Where had she heard that voice before?

  Faedra, get up; you have to move, NOW!

  She looked all around her, half expecting someone to be hovering above her. Could she get up? She hadn’t tried yet. She was feeling very stiff.

  FAEDRA RUN!

  That did it, pain or no pain, she was listening this time. As if someone had just grabbed her by her shoulders and lifted her off the ground by her bra straps, she suddenly realized she was running as fast as her legs would carry her in the same direction that Gypsy had fled just minutes earlier. Faen followed closely at her heels. She could hear rustling behind her and it sounded like it was getting closer. The adrenaline coursing through her veins gave her just enough extra energy to speed up, just when she believed she had nothing left. Faedra and Faen burst out of the woods and were bathed in the light of the setting sun once again.

  Faedra and Faen both ran several yards away from the woods before they looked back. Nothing seemed to be following them now, so they slowed down until they were at a walk. Then it hit her, a stabbing pain in her hip. She stopped and leaned forward, putting her hands on her knees to steady herself while she caught her breath.

  “Oh, great, I did get hurt,” she groaned as her breathing leveled out. She forced herself to stand up and start walking, which quickly turned to a limp.

  Up ahead, several people were walking towards them. Faedra recognized one of them as her friend Lisa. As they got closer, she could see the worried expressions on their faces. Lisa broke into a run to get to them sooner.

  “Are you okay?” Lisa fussed as she reached Faedra. “Gypsy came charging into the yard like a bat out of hell, sans you, what happened?”

  “Something in the woods spooked her. She reared and I just couldn’t hang on.”

  “I told you those woods were creepy,” she replied, somewhat too smugly for Faedra’s liking.

  “Yeah, but we’ve never had a problem before,” Faedra rebutted, “but, I dare say, I won’t be going back through there anytime soon.” She looked back towards the woods and shuddered. Just what had she seen in there?