The Amulet Page 2

  “Faedra?”

  She reluctantly pulled away from the dog and looked up into the worried eyes of her father.

  “Yes, Daddy?”

  Her father ran his hand through his hair and looked at his daughter. He was overwhelmed by how she looked like a miniature version of her mother. Every time he looked at her, he could see Lillith. The same beautiful, bright blue eyes with dark lashes that went on forever, and thick curly red hair that tumbled half way down her back. He felt blessed to have the two most beautiful women in his life. He missed Faedra’s mother with an ache so fierce he thought his heart would shrivel up and die. But was thankful he still had his beautiful daughter and vowed to do his very best to keep her safe.

  “Where did he come from?” he asked, looking at the great white dog standing next to his daughter in a way Henry could swear was protective.

  “I don’t know, Daddy. He just turned up. Isn’t he beautiful?”

  “Yes, he certainly is. He looks like a Great White Pyrenees.”

  Henry checked his thoughts. Usually he would have been very unnerved seeing a dog the same size as his daughter in such a close proximity to her, but, like Faedra, all he felt was a sense of comfort.

  “Can I keep him, Daddy?”

  Henry’s eyebrows shot up. He wasn’t expecting that question.

  “Well…” he paused.

  “Please, Daddy.”

  Henry knew the moment he looked into his daughter’s pleading eyes that he was defeated. He also knew the dog could not replace her mother, but, if this dog could give her just one ounce of comfort, then it would be a welcome addition to their family. Right at that moment, gazing deep into his little girl’s eyes that were so full of pain, he would have given her anything to ease it.

  “Okay, you can keep him.”

  “Oh, thank you, Daddy! Do you hear that boy? You can stay with me!”

  Henry watched the dog wag its tail as Faedra threw her arms around him and, again, bury her face in his fur.

  “What are you going to call him?” Henry asked.

  “Faen,” she declared without missing a beat. The dog’s ear pricked up. He pulled away to look at her, and Faedra thought she saw the dog smile, if it were possible for dogs to smile. She didn’t know, but she didn’t linger on the thought, and wrapped her arms around the giant dog’s neck once more.

  “That’s an unusual name.”

  “I know, but it suits him, doesn’t it?” she said looking proud of herself.

  “Whatever you say, darling. But if you keep him, then you are responsible for taking him for walks and cleaning up after him.”

  “I will, Daddy. I promise.” She released Faen from her grip. “Come on, Faen, I’ll show you my room. That’s where you’re going to sleep from now on.”

  Henry watched as Faedra lowered herself off the swing and wandered towards the house, followed closely by Faen wagging his enormous shaggy tail. Henry scratched his head at the sight.

  Present Day

  Faedra pulled down the indicator lever on the steering wheel to signal she was turning left. The soft tick-tick noise it made instilled a sense of relief in her as she turned onto the driveway that led to the cottage. She was home, and tomorrow was Saturday. She only made it half way down the driveway before her shaggy white dog came bounding up towards the car to greet her.

  She stopped her car and she smiled at him, rolling her window down as he placed his giant front paws on the car door and leaned his head in to plant a lolloping wet kiss on her cheek. She laughed as she grabbed a thick handful of fur on either side of his head and leaned her cheek against the side of his face. This had become their daily ritual since Faedra had started driving and gotten herself a job. She’d taken a year off before she started college so she could get a job and save some money. College didn’t come cheap these days. Her father had offered to pay, but she didn’t want him to shoulder all of the cost on his own.

  “Hey, boy. Yes, I love you, too,” she responded to another sloppy kiss.

  She leaned over to the back door and pushed it open from the inside.

  “In you get,” she told him.

  Faen wagged his tail voraciously and did as Faedra asked. She pulled the door closed and carried on down the driveway towards the cottage while Faen panted his hot breath in her ear. Upon turning a sharp bend in the driveway, the cottage came into view. She never tired of its beauty, or the warm feeling it gave her just to look at it. The cottage was many hundreds of years old and had been handed down through the family for generations. Her dad had completed many restorative projects on it since her mother inherited it before Faedra was born. This, in itself, was a sad thing because that meant she had never known her grandparents. They both died in a car accident before she was born. After living with the pain of loosing her own mother, Faedra felt full sympathy for what her mother must have gone through, losing both her parents in one fell swoop. Although, her mother had been much older than Faedra when it happened to her. She was already married to her father, Henry, and pregnant with Faedra.

  The cottage had cream walls with an array of black oak beams that were exposed both on the outside and on the inside. A beautiful climbing rose crept up the wall on a trellis and was in full bloom, exhibiting an abundance of bright sunny yellow petals. Her mother had planted it the year Faedra was born. She had watched her father carefully tend the plant ever since.

  Her father had also added a few more rooms on the back of the cottage, making it twice the size of the original dwelling. The living room, dining room, and two of the upstairs bedrooms were original and they were Faedra’s favorite rooms. You almost had to duck when you walked into the living room, the ceilings were so low. People had been much smaller in stature when the cottage was first built. But the living room was a complete contrast to the dining room that Faedra had lovingly named ‘The Great Hall’.

  The dining room was a cavernous room with an imposing brick fireplace at one end. A ceiling that towered two stories high was handsomely finished with exposed black oak beams running parallel to each other for the length of it. A staircase ran up one side of the room to a door at the top that led to her bedroom. She made sure she kept the front bedroom for herself, even after her father had finished a beautiful new room for her towards the back of the house. She had resisted, and with sensitivity, declined. There was something about the history in the old section of the house that she didn’t want to be parted from.

  Faedra pulled her car in beside her father’s. He worked from home; he had ever since her mother died. For that, she felt blessed. His job enabled him to stay at home so she did not have to be shipped off to a childcare provider every day. This turn of events had also made them very close. She loved her father with all her heart, and he felt the same about her. She smiled when she saw the other car parked next to her father’s. It belonged to her uncle Leo. He’d been an integral part of her upbringing, too, and she always enjoyed seeing him when he came around to visit.

  She opened the door to let Faen out and reached in to grab her bag that had been thrown precariously on the back seat when she left work earlier. Faen waited by her side until she closed the door. He looked up at her and wagged his tail.

  “Thank God that week is finished with,” she told him. “I’m not sure I could’ve taken much more of Mr. Thompson. I honestly don’t know why he’s got it in for me.”

  Faen barked, as if agreeing with her.

  “You know, boy, sometimes I could swear you understand every word I say.”

  She walked the few steps it took to reach the front door, kicked off her shoes inside the front porch, and lifted up the old-fashioned, black wrought iron latch on the door that led into the living room. The latch made its familiar chinking sound, a sound full of history and memories. It must have been lifted many thousands of times over its history, sometimes to welcome people in, and sometimes to bid them farewell. The memories it held seemingly endless. The quickening of a heartbeat when someone, patiently awaitin
g a loved one to return home, heard the latch chink. The relief, when an unwelcome or irritating visitor exited. Faedra’s memories of walking through this door had always been happy ones, except for one solitary entrance, the day her mother died. She knew it would never welcome her mum home again. She let out a sigh.

  As she swung the door open, she felt the need to duck, even though the ceiling was at least a foot taller than she was. She looked around the cozy living room. There was a fireplace, also. Actually, there was a fireplace in all the original rooms of the cottage, as back in the day, that was the only way to heat the house. She listened for signs of life and could hear voices coming from the kitchen.

  “Come on, boy. They’re in the kitchen.”

  She closed the living room door and wandered through to the contrastingly spacious dining room. The kitchen was located on the other side. Faen followed at her heels. He very rarely let her out of his sight when she was home.

  “Hi, guys,” she called as she reached the kitchen.

  Her dad, uncle, and her uncle’s wife, Nicki, were all seated around the kitchen table, situated in the center of the room. They had their hands wrapped around cups of tea, and a plate of cookies sat in the center of the table. Faedra strode over to where her dad was sitting, and planted a kiss on his forehead then leaned past him to grab a cookie.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “Hello, darling. How was your day?”

  “Oh, you know, the usual.”

  “Mr. Thompson still treating you badly?”

  “I don’t know why you put up with his crap, Faedra,” Uncle Leo chimed in, “I would have told him where to stick his job a long time ago.”

  “Thanks, Uncle Leo, but I need the money and it’s not for much longer, I’ll be starting college soon.” Faedra made her way around the table to where her uncle sat, and leaned over to wrap her arms around his neck. “I’ll survive, I promise,” she smiled her cheeky grin at him and planted a kiss on his cheek.

  “Well, you have the patience of a saint, that’s all I can say,” Leo continued.

  “Hey, Nicki, what are you doing this weekend?” Faedra asked, quickly changing the subject of her dire working arrangements.

  Her uncle had met Nicki not long after her mother had died and Faedra had taken to her straight away. Although Nicki was a good ten years older than herself, she had treated Faedra like a sister and taken her under her wing. She was happy that her uncle had found such a wonderful person and wished that her Dad would do the same. It had been nearly twelve years since that fateful day, and her Dad had never been interested in meeting anyone else even after all these years. She worried all the time that he would be so alone when eventually the inevitable happened and she moved out.

  “We are attempting to take your Dad out on the boat tomorrow, get him out of this house for a change,” Nicki replied.

  Faedra watched as her father raised his eyes heavenward. She knew her uncle had been trying to get him out to meet new people, mainly of the female variety, for a while. She sympathized with her dad after he had confided in her that he felt like a prize bull being paraded around a judging ring.

  “That sounds like fun, Dad. I’d go with you if I didn’t already have plans. I was going to invite Nicki to come with us to Strawberry Fair tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Fae, but you’re already taking Amy and Zoë, and Faen, no doubt. It would have been just a little squashed in the back of your car.”

  She had a point, Faen let out a little whine.

  “Don’t worry, you’re still coming,” Faedra told him, and he wagged his tail.

  Since he had turned up that day of the funeral, they were virtually inseparable apart from when social decorum dictated. He could not go with her to school or to work, but waited patiently each day until she came home, and then didn’t leave her side until the next morning.

  “It’s a good thing Zoë loves you almost as much as I do,” she told him kneeling down to rub his velvety soft ears. “You can ride in the back with her, she’ll love that.” She turned to her family. “Well, excuse me, everyone, I’m going to get changed and run out to the barn. It’s a beautiful evening for a ride.”

  “Hey, young lady,” her dad called as she was headed in the direction of her bedroom. “You still haven’t told me what you want to do for your eighteenth birthday. It’s just around the corner, or have you forgotten?” There was a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

  Faedra raised her eyes at Faen, who was looking at her excitedly.

  “Dad, I’ve already told you, I would like a small dinner here with you guys, Amy and Zoë, and I will be in seventh heaven. So don’t go planning anything big for me, will you, I don’t want any fuss. Promise?”

  Her father let out a sigh. He would love to give his little girl a big birthday bash, but knew she wouldn’t enjoy it. He had to be satisfied with a small, family and friends get together instead.

  “Okay, Darling, I promise.” his voice was laced with disappointment.

  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 sensat
ion, 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.