The Amulet

by Alison Pensy

  She was still shivering fiercely when she looked him in the eye. “I… don’t... want... you. I… want... my... dog.” Her words came out in a forceful staccato.

  He didn’t hesitate. In the blink of an eye, he had blurred into his dog form and was sitting beside her on the bed. She looked at her dog for a split second before throwing her arms around his neck and burying her head in his soft welcoming fur. Faedra closed her eyes and held him tight, hoping to get some comfort from him. Hoping that warmth would soon seep back into her soul.

  Her brain was telling her that the dog she loved so much was still the detached fairy she couldn’t quite work out, but she didn’t care. Her heart told her that this was her best friend. That he had always been there for her, wagging his tail when she was happy, letting her do just this when she was sad. Right now, she was downright terrified and confused, and her brain was having a hard time processing it all. So burying her face in Faen’s fur was exactly what she needed at that moment.

  She regained her composure with surprising alacrity. Only a few moments had passed before the shivering abated. The shock surging through her felt like it was flowing out through her body and melting into the bed covers. She pulled back from Faen and looked deeply into his molten amber eyes.

  “Thank you,” she whispered and laid a delicate kiss on his cold wet nose. “You can come back now, I need to talk to you.”

  He blurred back to his fae form. The soft amber eyes that were gazing at her only a second before, where now a startling liquid blue, and she drew in a breath. She felt as if someone had just torn her friend away from her. She straightened herself up, ready to get down to business.

  “It wanted the amulet,” she stated. “Why would it want the amulet?”

  He shook his head. “I do not know what a redcap would want with it. They are killing machines, nothing more, nothing less. As long as they have fresh blood on their caps, they are happy.”

  Faedra cringed. She remembered the way its cap had glistened moistly in the light from the streetlamp and realized that must have been someone’s fresh blood. Her body gave an involuntary shudder.

  “They must be working for someone. Although they are mostly solitary creatures, they have been known to band together and do someone else’s bidding, if the prize was right,” he continued.

  “Who else would want the amulet? The letter said it was no more powerful than a pretty trinket without the Book of Anohs, and that’s supposedly under immense protection. Can anyone get their hands on the book?” she asked.

  “The book is bound under heavy protective magic. Only the Keeper of the Book and the king have access to it,” he replied. “Did the redcap say anything else?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, and lowered her eyes.

  “What?”

  “It said, ‘I can understand why she wants you dead’,” she spoke flatly, bringing her eyes back up to meet Faen’s. She watched a look of concern flash across his face, but then it was gone again. “Who would want me dead, Faen? No one is supposed to even know about me. What could I have possibly ever done to any of your kind that they would want to kill me?”

  What he did next surprised her. He leaned forward and cupped her face in his hands. His eyes, now just a few inches from hers, shone brightly with their intensity and determination.

  “I do not know, Ms. Faedra, but I will find out, and I will keep you safe. Of that, you have my word.” He let his hands linger for just a fraction more than was needed. Then his eyes flickered as though he were snapping himself out of a trance, and he pulled them away.

  “There’s something else, too,” she continued. “In the graveyard I saw three pairs of eyes; tonight I only saw one creature. That means there are still two more of those things out there after me.” She swallowed hard.

  “Tomorrow you will stay within the property boundary. You will be safe here. I will go and try to find out all that I can. Now, you must sleep, Ms. Faedra. Your body needs to rest.” He looked at the light he created over Faedra’s pillow and it disappeared, throwing the room into darkness. Fear gripped her by the throat.

  “No, don’t,” she cried as she grabbed for his arm.

  The light came on again instantly, shining a soft glow over her features. Her eyes were frightened and pleading. He looked at her with understanding and nodded his head.

  “As you wish, Ms. Faedra,” he said with a warm smile. He could hardly blame her for being scared of the dark now.

  She lay her head back down on the pillow. She didn’t know if he spent the rest of the night watching over her as man or dog. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

  The morning came far too quickly for Faedra’s liking. She rolled over to look at her clock. “What time is it?” she mumbled to herself as she stretched.

  “Ten o’clock in the morning, Ms. Faedra.”

  She nearly jumped out of her skin, and looked to the end of her bed. Faen was sitting there, dressed in his fae attire once more. Her shoulders slumped.

  “It wasn’t just a bad dream after all, was it?” she asked dejectedly.

  “No, Ms. Faedra, it was not.”

  She could hear the muffled sounds of the television coming from the living room below her. Her dad had probably been up and around bright and early and let her sleep in. He likely thought she would be suffering from a hang-over this morning, but she was pleased to be feeling surprisingly clear headed. She heard the latch lift on the living room door.

  “Fae, are you awake?” Henry called up the stairs.

  “Just about,” she called back.

  “You have to come and see this. Something really weird is happening.”

  Faedra looked at Faen with a ‘what now?’ expression plastered all over her face. Extricating herself from the bedcovers, she threw her bathrobe on over her pajamas. Faen blurred into his dog form and jumped off the bed to follow her out the door. She stopped dead at the top of the stairs. He hadn’t been anticipating that and bumped right into the back of her legs. She turned slowly to look out of the window. Faen nudged her leg - he couldn’t risk changing into his true form outside of her room - to ask her what was wrong. She looked down at him then back out of the window.

  “Look,” she pointed out the window.

  He stood on his hind legs, rested his front paws on the windowsill and looked in the same direction as her.

  “The leaves are turning. It’s still summer, they shouldn’t be turning for another couple of months yet.” They looked at one another, turned, and nearly fell over each other going down the stairs in their haste to get to the living room.

  Her dad was sitting in his chair, cupping a mug of tea in his hands. He was glued to the television, completely mesmerized.

  “It’s the same thing on every channel,” he stated, tearing his eyes away from the screen for just a second then returning them directly. “They thought at first it was a group of activists spraying weed killer. Like that time, a few years back, when the activists burned fields of genetically modified crops in protest. But now it’s happening all over the world, and no one can explain it.”

  Faedra perched herself on the edge of the sofa. Faen sat by her feet; they were both very still. They watched while the news anchor described the phenomenon unraveling all over the world. It had started last night in England, but quickly spread throughout Europe, then to Asia, Australia, and now America. Crops were dying. Huge swaths of agricultural fields were being wiped out.

  “If this continues, the world will be facing a famine of global proportions,” the newsreader’s grave voice told the viewers.

  Faedra’s jaw dropped. She caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye and turned to look outside. The leaves were starting to fall. Something was very very wrong.

  She looked down at Faen, and he looked up at her. They subtly nodded heads as if they were having a conversation only they could hear. Faedra jumped up and headed back to her room, followed closely by him.

  “Where are you goin
g in such a hurry?” Henry asked. “This is serious stuff going on here,” he continued, pointing at the television.

  “I know, Dad, but it’s a beautiful day outside and I’d like to take advantage of it. I’m going to take Gypsy out for a ride. Besides, there’s nothing I can do about it,” she inwardly cringed at how callous she sounded.

  “Oh, the frivolity of youth,” he muttered, but she was already charging up the stairs to her bedroom.

  “What on earth’s going on?” she spoke in a harsh whisper to Faen as he blurred between forms. Faedra wondered if he could hear when he was half in, half out, so to speak.

  “This is very grave, Ms. Faedra.” Apparently, he could hear between forms. “I have to get to Azran and see Elvelynn.”

  She looked at him incredulously. “No, we have to get to Azran,” she stated without compromise, “and who’s Elvelynn?”

  “It is too dangerous for you outside of your home. Elvelynn is the Keeper of the Book of Anohs.”

  “The redcaps chasing me are here, not in Azran and you promised me you wouldn’t leave my side, remember? How can you keep me safe if you’re not around?”

  Faen could see by the determined glare she was shooting at him, he didn’t think he was going to win this battle, and, besides, she did have a point. He was not happy at the thought of leaving her alone either.

  “Okay, you may come with me,” he conceded, “but we have to hurry.”

  She ran to her closet and tore out some clothes. She looked at him; they were in a hurry and she didn’t have time for formalities.

  “Um, just turn around a minute,” she instructed.

  He did so without hesitation. She threw her clothes on at breakneck speed and was ready in about thirty seconds flat.

  Faen blurred again into his dog form. They ran back down the stairs and into the living room, trying to steady their pace in front of her father so he wouldn’t be too suspicious.

  “We’re off now, Dad. See you later,” she said as chirpily as she could muster and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.

  “But you haven’t had any breakfast.”

  “I’ll grab some on the way,” she called over her shoulder as she and Faen exited to the porch.

  “It’s Sunday, there isn’t…” they were gone, “anything on the way,” Henry continued to himself and shrugged his shoulders. His daughter was certainly starting to act strangely the past couple of days.

  Faedra and Faen jumped into her car; she heaved a sigh of relief when the engine roared into life on the first try. Well, it was more of a meow than a roar, but she wasn’t complaining.

  Faen blurred into his true self and climbed over to sit in the front seat beside her.

  They drove in silence for a few moments, passing a couple of cornfields as they did. Faedra glanced over at the corn that should have been lush and green but was now brown and dying.

  “Someone’s stolen the Book of Anohs, haven’t they?” she asked with trepidation. Faen didn’t respond. “Haven’t they?” Faedra insisted.

  “We do not know that for sure, Ms. Faedra.”

  “Well, it would explain why someone wants the amulet and seems quite happy to kill me to get it.”

  “Yes, that would be a logical conclusion,” he agreed, then sighed. “Can this car go any faster?”

  “You tell me, Faen. You’ve ridden in it since I got it, you should know.” Where had she gotten all this sarcasm from all of a sudden. A few days ago she would never have dreamed of being rude to anyone, but she was firing off at Faen left, right and center. Maybe it was the fact that she was worried about a pending global famine, or it could just be the effect he had on her. She couldn’t quite decide which and kept the thought to herself.

  “Oh, no, it’s Sunday,” she cried as they pulled into the church car park. It was full.

  “Yes, Ms. Faedra, we have already surmised that fact,” he shot her a bewildered glance.

  “Which means that there will be loads of people around. People that might see something they shouldn’t.” She was exasperated. Did she have to spell it out for him?

  “They will only see what I wish them to see.”

  “And what about me?”

  “As long as we are touching, the glamour will hide you too,” he explained as if she should already have known that fact.

  “Oh.”

  Faedra sandwiched her little old car in between a couple of bright, shiny new ones. Faen got out of the car and was around to her side, opening the door for her before she had even pulled the keys out of the ignition. His manners were impeccable; she certainly couldn’t fault him for that.

  “Thank you.” She at least hadn’t forgotten her manners either.

  “You are most welcome,” he nodded his head graciously.

  “Um, Faen, you are wearing your old worldly clothing again. You’ll stick out like a sore thumb, not to mention that carrying a lethal weapon in England is against the law.” She eyed his sword intently as she tried to sound as diplomatic as possible under the circumstances.

  “No one can see me, Ms. Faedra.”

  “Great, so now I look like I’m talking to myself?” She closed the car door and shoved the keys in the front pocket of her jeans.

  He gave her one of his wry smiles and took her hand. “No, now only I can see you talking to me.”

  She looked down at their intertwined fingers and found herself at a loss to understand why someone who irked her the way he did, had the ability to send bolts of electricity up her arm and straight to her heart. He looked down and caught her staring at their hands.

  “Is there a problem, Ms. Faedra?”

  She felt her cheeks flush. “No, no problem.”

  “Then come, the portal is this way. We must find Elvelynn.” He started with determination in the direction of the graveyard gate.

  Faedra held her breath as a couple of people walked straight past them, but didn’t even glance their way. “People can’t hear us either?” she asked.

  “No, they cannot.”

  As soon as they entered through the gate, the friendly black and white collie bounded over to see them. Faedra beamed at it when it gave her its usual toothy grin. It felt good to see a friendly face.

  “She is of age now, Jocelyn, you may show yourself.” When Faen spoke, his voice was laced with just a hint of irritability.

  Faedra stood upright sharply. In the blink of an eye, the collie shimmered in front of her and was replaced by the most beautiful girl she had ever set eyes on. She noticed that when Jocelyn changed form, it was a distinct shimmer, compared to Faen, who blurred into his form. She fleetingly wondered if it had anything to do with being a male or female fae.

  She took a step back and gasped. Faedra couldn’t help herself; she wondered if all fae were as beautiful as these two. Jocelyn stood a few inches shorter than Faedra, and looked younger, too. Although, she knew in actual years she was probably much older. But she estimated that Jocelyn looked about fifteen or sixteen years old. She had flawless, luminescent skin that almost sparkled in the sunlight. Striking, liquid blue eyes, like her brother’s, with long dark lashes that framed them to perfection, smiled at her warmly.

  Jocelyn also took on similar coloring to her dog form. Her hair, that was long and sleek, flowed halfway down her back. It was almost all black with the exception of a band of white blonde at the front of her head, which had been braided into delicate braids. The braids had been intricately woven through the remainder of her hair creating a unique lace effect pattern. She wore a gorgeous black and white dress with a fitted bodice and flowing skirt that came to mid-calf with a handkerchief style hem. But the thing that took Faedra’s breath away, was that Jocelyn did not care to hide her wings like her brother did. Faedra realized that she had been quite blatantly gaping at them with her jaw dropped for a moment now. She snapped it shut and hoped she hadn’t looked too rude.

  Jocelyn’s wings, that rhythmically opened and closed at a slow steady pace, reminded Faedra of someone
subconsciously tapping a foot or drumming their fingers on a table. Her wings weren’t beating fast enough to lift her from the ground, but, rather, she looked like a resting butterfly that opened and closed its wings while perched on a petal. They reached at least two feet taller than her shoulders and each one spanned another good body width wide, to either side of her. They were made up of four sections. The upper, larger sections were white. The lower, smaller sections were black and shaped into a teardrop at the lower outside corner just like one of those exotic butterflies that she had only seen in a book, or on the Animal Channel. Her wings, as a whole, had a luminescent quality to them, also, and shimmered in the sunlight.

  “Wow,” Faedra breathed.

  “Hello, my name is Jocelyn.” Her voice was high pitched and musical. Jocelyn spoke with excitement dripping from every word. “It is so good to be able to actually talk to you at last. I cannot believe you have finally turned of age. I was starting to get so impatient, I nearly gave myself away on several occasions,” she giggled and a flush came to her cheeks.

  “Err…” Faedra started to talk, even though she was somewhat speechless at that moment. Faen interrupted, but that didn’t stop her from scowling at him for being rude to his sister.

  “Jocelyn,” Faen said bluntly, “there will be plenty of time for small talk later, we need to see Elvelynn.”

  “Ooh, Elvelynn,” Jocelyn squealed. “I have not seen Elvelynn for an eternity. Can I come with you?”

  “You saw her not more than a moon’s phase ago, and, no, you cannot come with us. We are going on business.”

  “Oh, Brother, please. You have to let me come. Can I come, please?” The musical sound of her voice as it went up and down the octaves as she spoke, reminded Faedra of a cat walking on a piano keyboard.

  “The answer is still no.” Faen was frowning at her now and moved to walk Faedra past her.