The Amulet (16 page)

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 going 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.