First encounters

Below are the opening paragraphs of my young adult fantasy novel. Let me know what you think...

Moving house on New Year’s Eve, was an omen of the disruption to come. For weeks leading up to the move I experienced the crawling sensation of some unseen predator watching me and yet however hard I looked, I couldn’t spot anyone tailing me, and I looked hard. I regularly succumbed to both goosebumps and chills while having no clue as to why and woke cold and clammy from dreams I could not remember.  

I would run home from school, bolt the door and ensure my bedroom curtains were shut tight, yet that trickling sense of unease continually invaded my spine. My parents were no help, alternately ignoring or even laughing at my fears, putting it down to mere anxiety about the move. Yet even I was surprised that an unexpected present on my birthday could unwrap a chain of events from which there would be no escape.  

At first glance, the gift was innocuous enough. Neatly presented in bright pink metallic paper, it was hidden in a corner of the kitchen where it could rest unnoticed a short while; presumably allowing its bearer to escape unseen through the nearby back door.  Inside was a fist sized object, a cross between an orb and a star, or stellated dodecahedron as my old Maths teacher would call it. I gingerly lifted it out of its box and held it up to the light streaming in from the bay window. I struggled to pull my eyes away as it pulsed with a light all of its own rather than purely relying on reflection.

Loyal to Dad’s French roots, I nicknamed it, ‘Etoile’, (pronounced ay-twa-le), French for star. It was a rare beauty, made of some kind of stained glass, edged with gold and topped off with beads.  The Etoile sparkled warmly, washing the sleek, modern kitchen with colour of every shade.  The only clue to its origin was a label that read, ‘Servāre’ which means ‘to guard’ or ‘to serve’ according to the internet.  If I had known how much trouble it would bring with it, I would have been strongly tempted to shove it back in its box and set fire to it.  Ignorance is bliss, so I popped it back in its box, complete with a soft woollen cloth it had been wrapped in, and dropped it in my handbag.  Dad then uttered the fateful words, ‘Let’s go to Laveidem Forest,’ and so began the journey that would lead to the biggest upheaval of my life so far, all 14 years of it.