Telesa - The Covenant Keeper by Lani Wendt Young

canopy of green, hung with vines and trailing with white orchids. It was night. A flying fox screeched nearby, startling her. She wore a woven cloth wrapped around her like a bath towel. So finely made and so worn with time that it fell in soft folds around her knees and caressed her skin softer than silk. A band of brown feathers fluttered at its hem. Her feet were bare on the moist earth. Her skin glistened with coconut oil, catching the fire of the moonlight as she raised her hands to feel the necklace made of pointed boar’s tusks at her throat. Where was she? Why was she dressed like this? She could hear water rushing nearby. A waterfall? The sound made her acutely aware of the burning thirst in her throat. She had an overwhelming urge to submerge her body in the rushing falls. Drink deeply of its cool freshness. Lie in the liquid moonlight, awash in its swirling embrace.
    Turning towards the sound she started making her way cautiously through the trees. Bushes scratched at her legs. Ferns tugged at the hem of her dress. Leaves entangled in her hair. Her raging thirst grew, the closer she got to the falls. With relief, she parted the leaves and there it was. A small waterfall splashed from a rocky rise in the land, falling gracefully into a circular pool, edged with smooth rocks and trailing ferns. The water sparkled like black diamonds at the base of the falls. She walked forward to the edge of the pool and hesitated. She hated to wet the fine mat but she had nothing on underneath. Oh well, it was only her in the night. Flushing with embarrassment, she quickly shrugged out of the woven cloth and slipped into the welcome concealment of the water.
    The cold was a shock. A jolt of refreshing coolness that had her shivering in the warm wet night. She slowly swam towards the waterfall and was pleased to find that she could stand at its base. Cupping her hands to the silver froth, she drank deeply, glorying in the clean sweet taste. She drank again and again, like a water-starved nomad in a desert. Finally satiated, she leaned forward to let the rushing waters sweep over her hair and down the length of her oiled body. Then she felt it. A chill down her spine that had nothing to do with the night air. A prickling of unease. She was not alone.
    Slowly, she turned. A woman stood at the end of the pool. She was hauntingly beautiful and yet terrifying at the same time. She was tall, with a length of sandy brown hair that fell to below her waist. At her throat was a boar’s tusk necklace identical to that which Leila wore. She was half naked, her woven dress clinging to her hips, feathered hem skirting her ankles, full breasts covered by her thick hair adorned with vivid red flowers. She held a long carved knife in one hand, the blade glinting in the darkness as she raised both arms to the night sky. A dreadful smile lit her face as she exulted,
    “Yes! Pele, my beloved daughter, finally you return to me.”
     

Chapter Three
     
    I woke with a startled gasp, sheets a tangled mess around me, my shirt soaked through with sweat. Pulse racing, I tried to calm my ragged breathing but the room was so stifling I needed to get out. Hoping Aunt Matile hadn’t woken with the sounds of my nightmare, I slipped silently through the sleeping house and out into the garden. Sitting on an upturned plastic bucket under the fragrant branches of the frangipani tree, I breathed deeply in the night air.
    What did it mean? Where had that dream come from? Was I losing my mind? Was all the pressure of being in this alien land, searching for information about a mother that no-one wanted to talk about finally getting to me? Fluffy chickens roosting in the breadfruit trees rustled and clucked close by and Terminator strolled over to snuffle hopefully against my fingers. It was just a dream, I kept repeating to myself as I quietly crept back to my room. But sleep was a long time coming.
    The rest of the week was uneventful. I was slipping into a routine