Chapter one: THE COVENANT

The Old Hag had me again. 

            Sucking the air from my lungs, she dragged the horrific memory from the deepest parts of my mind into consciousness.  As always, it was devastatingly real and there was no escaping it.

            As the last image of that night crossed my mind, she released her insufferable clutches.  I bolt up gasping for air, cursing the fact that no matter how hard I tried, or much time passed, the details hadn't faded one iota. 

          At seven years old, I learned one of the hardest realities in life – Death - And it stole my childhood and my belief that the world was a good place.  Something every child deserves to believe, and something, I haven't believed for a very long time.

            It was easy to go down the path of feeling sorry for myself - I'd done it for years after they died.  You wouldn't think a seven year old was capable of such dark thoughts, but when Gabby came to get me the night my parents died, and brought me to this godforsaken place - I did wish for a long time that I'd died with them.  Even now, ten years latter, I have to remind myself that I was lucky to have survived. 

            Although, I had no idea how I did.

         I forced the sweet smelling apple blossom air into my constricted lungs and closed my eyes against the bright sunbeams on my face.  It was a rare treat for it to reach seventy degrees in early June, and I was soaking in every second of it before I had to go home. 

         The effects of the Old Hag quickly disappeared.  I was use to her tricks now, and slowly, I started drifting into that day dreamy state of half awake, half asleep.  My mind wandered back in time as an even older memory crossed my mind.  One I hadn't thought of in years.  He might have been imaginary, but he was entirely real to me when I was a little girl, but after my parents died, he never came to visit me again. 

         "Khalid," I sighed, flirting with the call of sleep.  What happen to you?  Why'd you leave me?

            There was no answer of course, expect for the fact, he was imaginary.  I suppose after seeing your parents killed right in front of you, everything you ever believed changes in an instant, including, believing in imaginary friends.

         Out of nowhere, I could see an image of Mom in my mind.  She smiled softly, her amethyst colour eyes fixed on me as she approached.  The wind whipped her long strawberry blond hair, ruffling the skirt of her white sundress, the same dress she wore in the picture on my nightstand.  A white light radiated out from her like an angel, illuminating a circle of gigantic blue and grey stones surrounding her on every side.  "Nevaeh," she says, "it's time to wake up from the darkness.  It's time to remember you who you really are."  Her voice was so clear, I wanted to reach out and touch her. 

         She turns and Dad walks up behind her, wrapping his strong arms around her waist.  His onyx hair glistens and his eyes twinkle like cerulean diamonds.  He looked as handsome and strong as I always remembered, but his smile fades fast as he glances suspiciously over his shoulder.  "Selene we have to go.  This is too dangerous.  You shouldn't be this close." 

         "I know - but she has to wake up."  She turns to me, as the soft glowing silver light around her muted the dark worry in her eyes.  "Sweetheart - you must fulfill your destiny.  You have to listen to your heart."

         “Selene we have to leave now,” Dad urges her as they begin to fade, leaving behind an intoxicating darkness so deep it threatened to drown me. 

         I wanted to cry out to them, to ask her what she meant, but the words wouldn't come.

         I can barely see their shape anymore, but I hear my father say, "You have a great light in you.  You just need to find it."  Then, in the blink of an eye, they're completely gone, and all that's left is a profound stillness.

         "Nevaeh," the rich seductive male voice broke the silence.  It was a different voice, not my father's as I just heard, yet - equally familiar. 

         But it can't be - he isn't real! 

         "Khalid," I responded, his summons compelling me beyond reason. 

         I listened for him with everything in me, and then, his presence pushed in all around me. "Finally, I've found you," he said, his voice echoing through space and time, awakening every fibre of my being with his thick ancient accent - one I had only ever heard from him. 

         His presence started to merge back into the stillness, and I called out, "Wait.  Don't go!"

         He responded in way I could only describe as touching my Soul, saying, "I could never be gone from you.  It's all part of the illusion, and the time has come for it to end."  His deliberate words rippled over me like cool stain on bare skin, as his spectre disappeared back into the Cimmerian shade.

         I forced my eyes open, my heart hammering in my chest as I struggled to gain my breath and bearings.  I glanced at my phone clenched in my hand, and cursed.  What felt like seconds had actually been over half an hour and I was late for supper - AGAIN.

         My teeth chattered as I looked around at my now ominous surroundings.  A heavy fog had rolled in muting the colourful orchard into shades of sepulchral grey, and with the sun hidden; the temperature had dropped a good ten degrees. 

         Faith neigh loudly and I turned to peak at her through the trees.  She was tossing her head back and forth, pissed, we were out in this crappy weather - not that I blamed her.  The fog sucked.  Not to mention what it did to my curly hair.  She neighed again, her protest becoming more vocal by the minute.

         I shook off the bizarre daydream that felt all too real and darted towards the fence.  I managed to successful clear it without killing myself and landed on my feet next to Faith.  I untied her and she tromped about impatiently.  "Ok, I get it," I said, throwing the reins over her head. 

         I yanked Gryphon's horrid yellow plastic poncho from my saddlebag.  At least I had it - as ugly as it was.  He's the one that packed it the last time we went riding and it called for rain.  I protested - it had to be the most hideous thing I'd ever seen - but he insisted.  I didn't need that day, but today, I was glad it was still there.

         Jamming my left foot in the stirrup, I easily launched myself up.  It used to be harder.  Faith is a big horse, and when I was younger, I could barely reach the stirrup.  I was almost fourteen before I didn't need a step or a boost, and according to Gryphon, my best friend for the last ten years, I haven't grown much since.  A sad fact that was true at five foot two.

         Settling into the damp saddle, I shivered and mumbled, "When will I flippin' remember to take gloves?"  I picked up the wet reins and pulled the sleeve of my light blue white sweatshirt over my fingers in a makeshift mitt.  I clacked my tongue and Faith responded, galloping through the soggy, muddied fields.  A heavy mist shrouded my face in a slick cold mask as we trekked towards our white saltbox house.  It was over a hundred years old and stood alone on a grassy plateau over looking the Atlantic Ocean.  As we raced towards it, I couldn't help but wonder how, after all this time and the powerful storms that hammered the shores of Flatrock that it still stood.  Yet, our lives can be shattered in a single moment.

         Lost in my thoughts I was oblivious to how wet and muddy I'd become.  Faith trotted into the barn, stopping just short of her stall and I jumped down, my back teeth clattering as I shook the water from my poncho.  I inspected my fingers and it seemed my sweatshirt sleeve did the trick.  They were red, but no chaffing.  The sleeve of my sweatshirt however was a different story.  It paid the price with dark brown die stains that would likely never come out. 

         I bent down and released the dirty rigging from around Faith, and with a grunt, I flung the white saddle it over the rail and pulled off the pink saddle blanket underneath.  Faith's white coat was rotten dirty and her mane stuck to her neck in a flat sheath.  There was no doubt I was definitely going to have to do some serious grooming latter. 

         She nudged me gently with her wet pink nose and her warm wet breath tickled my neck, sending cold chills down my back.  I turned and kissed her as she eyed the barrel on the floor with her big black eyes.  "Is this what ya want?"  I reached into the wooden barrel, pulling out a bright red apple.  "You've already had two of these today," I added, and gave it to her anyway.  She took it gently, crunching it between her giant teeth causing apple juice squirts to hit me in the face.  "Could ya chew with your mouth closed?"  I laughed, wiping my face in my sleeve.  I quickly rubbed her down with a towel and patted her neck.  "I'll be back after supper to say good night and do something about your hair," I grinned, attempting to run my fingers through the snarled tangles in my own hair, "after I've done something with mine."

         I headed out of the barn into the ominous twilight that made the fog look more like smoke than fog, and as I walked towards the house, the events of what happened replayed in my mind.  This time, the realness of it permeated every cell of my body, and it became alarmingly clear that I had become categorically certain of two things. 

         First, I was convinced my parents were trying to give me a message and as cryptic as the message was, I knew it had meaning - I just didn't get it.       

         Second and most profound is that I heard Khalid's voice, and it stirred every part of my being.  Although I thought I'd long since forgotten the sound of him, I hadn't.  After today, I knew I could never truly forget. 

         As I stood on the back porch, I forced the outrageous thoughts from my head as the delicious smells of garlic and simmering pasta sauce wafted out through open door.  My stomach growled, and suddenly, all I could think about was how hungry I was, and how grateful I was for the distraction from what had just happened.