The Pegasus Project
A Musimagium Story
Mary Kit Caelsto
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Newsletter CTA
Also by
The Pegasus Project
Hidden
Tonic Chords
Songs and Horns
About The Author
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
THE PEGASUS PROJECT
Copyright © Mary Kit Caelsto, 2019
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Cover Art © 2019
Cover art by My Author Home
Book formatting by My Author Home (http://www.myauthorhome.com)
Electronic Publication Date: March 2020
Print Publication Date: March 2020
This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the author.
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Also by the Author
Women’s Fiction
Noble Dreams Series
Steady on Course
Standing on Course
Correction on Course
Walking on Course
Course Perfect
Shadbelly Faults
Husband On Board
Double Clear
Riding Double
Rosettes & Rompers
Western Star Series
Spins Are Wild
Turn & Burn
In the Chute
Fantasy/Magic Realism
World of the Musimagium and Radio Arcana
Hidden
Tonic Chords
Of Songs & Horns
Songs & Paperwork
Chasing Neptune’s Cat
Tempus Magic
The Pegasus Project
Chapter One
Who needed to check a weather app when my knuckles told me when storms were coming. The one headed in our direction would be a doozy if the throbbing in my fingers were any indication. I rubbed my hands and watched clouds gather on the horizon. A bolt of lightning cut through the rapidly darkening skies, bringing with it the scent of ozone. A cool breeze washed over me redolent with the scent of rain. I breathed deeply.
Summer humidity always made my joints hurt more and I longed to have the air release its heavy load and bring both of us some relief. Supposedly this part of New Mexico wasn’t supposed to be that humid, but we were close enough to get the storms that popped over the plains. A shadow darkened the sky overhead, bigger than the vultures that occasionally circled the property. I wasn’t dead yet, I’d tell them with a laugh, though with the piano in my living room perpetually silent, I might as well be.
Thunder rumbled as the large Pegasus stallion landed and cantered to his small herd, no doubt to urge his mare and their two-year old filly into the shelter I’d built. I knew if I hiked over the hill I’d see the unicorn pair already inside the sturdy structure. How these magical creatures had made their way to my eastern New Mexico ranch, I’d never know. I lacked a node to hold power, though one or two ley lines crossed the property and perhaps they’d followed them here. Either way, they had arrived and I’d accommodated them the best I could.
Drops of rain began to fall. Fat, hot globules of water splashed on my head and ran down my cheek. I titled my head to the sky as if the rain could wash away the fear and worry I’d held over the last several weeks. It couldn’t. Not physically of course, but as the energy coursed through my veins I hoped it would work emotionally.
I slicked back the strands of lightly gray-streaked brown hair to keep them from my face. The elastic still held my pony tail in place, though it was beginning to hang heavy off the nape of my neck.
The rain fell harder now, finally settling the dust and scrub around the ranch house that I’d purchased back when I played concert halls all over the world with royalties that still came each quarter from recordings and radio playlists. Reluctantly, I stood and went inside. Another crack of lightning split the sky that had turned dark as night. The booming thunder shook the walls of the house and drove me away from the windows as the wind picked up to bend the tops of trees in my yard. Out of habit, I flipped on the weather radio. No watches or warnings, though I knew that could change at any time. Mother Nature didn’t bother to listen to the National Weather Service, but unleashed her wrath wherever she wished.
I curled up in my favorite chair and closed my eyes as I listened to the rain pounding on the roof. Outside, the world had turned to a dark gray with sheets of water dropping from the heavens. In my mind, a counterpoint of piano notes played mostly with my left hand unfurled. I listened to the melody, hearing it intertwine with the steady percussion of the rain. The simple notes turned complex, my feet twitching as if I were working the piano pedals. My fingers twitched, and had I wanted, I could have held them before me and played air piano notes to go along with the music weaving into my thoughts. The pain in my knuckles prevented me, and I had to content myself with feeling the hum of energy, the music dancing between drops of water, and the knowledge that even if I couldn’t play, I could think the music. For my magical arts, that was enough.
A gust of wind shook the house. I grabbed my phone from where I left it on the table next to my chair and pulled up the radar. The monotone voice of the weather radio gave the long range outlook, still no harsh noises to indicate warnings. Yet, something about this storm unnerved me. I might have chalked it up to nerves if it weren’t for the tingling of magic. I sensed it all around me, hovering like mist rising on a foggy morning. Mother Nature may have brought the rain; something had invited it in the first place.
The animals were restless. I stood and went to the window, debating on whether to go out in this weather to see them. Their shelter lay a good ten minutes’ walk from my house, and I’d be soaked to the bone by the time I arrived. My mind contained no words. Only a ceaseless worry, a concern that went beyond normal.
Did this have to do with the filly’s inability to fly? I frowned and touched my fingers to the cold window pane. The rain eased enough so I could make out the shape of the tree in the front yard, rather than as a darker blur against a black sky. Light filtered through. The worst of the storm had passed.
I released a long, slow breath. The ache in my joints warned me not to go for a walk, or get wet, or do anything to upset the delicate equilibrium of my body. I refused to be cowed. I changed from sneakers to rubber boots, grabbed a windbreaker to block the worst of the rain, pulled the hood over my head and opened the door.
As if waiting for me to appear, the storm intensified. A massive crack of lightning lit up the sky, the immediate clap of thunder vibrating deep into my bones. I closed the door behind me and stepped off the covered porch. Rain instantly soaked me to the skin. I�
��d stepped into the shower on full blast, the air and the rain still as warm as when the storm had started. Only the humidity had risen, as if that were even possible and the wet clothes stuck to my skin.
Might as well go on. I wished I’d brought my walking stick. The heavy rain made it difficult to see the ground, and I tripped on a rock a time or two. With each step my clothes became even more laden with water, and I blinked rain from my eyes. Still, the urgent need I sensed from the animals drove me onward. Another lightning strike and magic hummed around me.
I didn’t dare open my mouth; I’d drown from the sheets of water. Instead, I mentally heard one of my favorite pieces, Handel’s Water Music. Appropriately titled, I thought. With each note, I envisioned water being pushed out of the way, able to clear my vision. I walked faster. Blue light sparked around me. The hairs on my arms stood on end and the back of my neck tingled. I pushed my hands before me as if swimming, demanding the water part so I could pass. The flares of blue light grew and I saw the shed.
The roof had collapsed.
I gasped and hurtled forward, tripping and stumbling as my shock and worry dissipated the music in my mind. I saw no shapes, nothing to indicate that the animals had gotten free, and yet, I assumed they must have. The slanted roof and fallen wall testified to the huge gust of wind that must have blew in and burst through the three-sided building. My worst fear come to life.
I tripped, the momentum sending me hurtling toward the hard ground. I landed, my hands braced beneath me. My palms stung. My knee burned and I knew I’d ripped my jeans. I spat mud from my mouth, mingled with the tang of coppery blood. I’d bitten the inside of my cheek. With the back of my hand, I wiped my eyes and lurched forward. The rain eased as if its sole task had been to pound me to the earth.
I refused to be defeated. I opened my mouth to call out, to see if I could alert the pegasii and unicorns to my presence, but we’d never had that kind of relationship. They treated me like an absent caretaker, sometimes gracing me with their presence, not even eating the bales of hay I’d purchased my first winter here. The land sustained them, and I’d like to think that their presence sustained me.
The rain eased even more, the darkness lifting to leave a gray mist hanging over the ground. There, under one of the few trees in the pasture I saw four large, white figures. Two unicorns. Two pegasii. I was missing a pegasus.
I approached the shed with a hammering heart. One end of the roof lay on the ground with the fallen side wall flat. The back wall had been splintered, the large pieces of plywood cracked with the one closest to the fallen wall peeled away from the supporting boards. The other was askew, but could probably be put back into place. I hoped. And I’d need help to get this done.
As the visibility improved, I made out the forms of the mare and stallion under the tree. If the filly were anywhere except under the roof, she’d be there with her parents.
A sob caught in my throat. “No!” I rushed forward in a burst of speed, mud flying from my boots. There, poking from beneath the roof were the gossamer strands of a white tail, still glowing pristine in spite of the rain and mud. “Oh, honey.” I dropped to my knees and rested my hand on her hindquarter.
Warmth seeped from her coat into my palm. The fallen roof had protected her from the worst of the rain, and while I could hardly see underneath there, one shiny eye looked back at me. Calm. Patient. She lived.
Not for long. Not if I couldn’t get the roof lifted off of her. “I’m going to try. If you can understand me, lend me some of your magic.” I rocked back on my heels and looked over the fallen shelter toward the others. “Please.” I raised my voice. “We have to lift the roof off of her. At least give her enough room to wiggle free.”
I thought I might have seen the swish of a mane as the pegasus stallion nodded his head. Okay, I could do this. I psyched myself up because it’d been a while since I’d used my magic like this. However, I’d been known in shows to use this spell to make the piano and the piano bench with me on it hover off of the stage while I played. If I could lift something like a grand piano, surely a few boards and some metal sheets wouldn’t be a problem? I hoped.
“Subvolo.” I set the intent and then the melody to Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring ran through my mind, as loud as if it’d been sung by the complete Mormon Tabernacle Choir behind me while I played on stage. And at one time that’d been exactly how I’d performed it.
The roof wobbled. I poured my will, my desire that the roof be lifted into the song. Hoof beats sounded behind me, though I didn’t dare turn to see the arrival of the others. From the corners of my eyes I saw the large, white forms of both the unicorns and the pegasus. Magic tingled beneath me, rising from the wet ground as if being poured onto it. And perhaps it was. The unicorns stepped forward and lowered their horns toward the roof. The wobbling grew, the groan of metal and wood filling the air as it began to rise.
Elation filled me. “Subvolo.” I poured everything I had into it. On stage, I’d seen the blue sparks of magic dance around me like dust motes in a spotlight, and here, I watched them flicker around the edges of the wood and my outstretched hands.
Warm equine breath brushed against my arm. The brush of a muzzle, a push both physical and energetic touched me. A sob broke in my throat because the energy the equines provided was so pure, so perfect that I hadn’t touched it’s like.
The pegasus mare went around to the other side of the shed and stood on the fallen wall. The music swelled. The chorus reaching its peak, my playing becoming louder and louder as if I were there actually touching the ivory keys. Tears wet my face anew. A soft nicker, a mother to her child, filled the air. A sense of profound, perfect love surrounded me, hit all the sore spots deep in my soul and washed them raw. An urging and with the magical energy surging from those standing beside me, the roof lifted enough so the filly could sit upright. A moment later she scrambled her feet beneath her and wormed her way free.
The instant she stood safely beside the mare, the roof fell with a bang. Small puffs of dust plumed from the end of the board as the dry underside hit the fallen walls. I sagged, stumbled and would have fell if it weren’t for the warm, solid body on my right. I draped across it, dimly registering that I leaned on a unicorn—a unicorn!—for several long moments until my strength returned. I straightened.
The filly walked, surprisingly unhurt, over to the stallion and they touched noses. Then, she turned and came to me. Up close I saw her wings were as beautiful as her parents’. There truly appeared to be no physical reason why she couldn’t fly. She stepped forward and touched her muzzle to the center of my chest. An image, of looking down, dizzying and terrifying, then plummeting to the earth filled my mind.
Unconsciously I reached for her and touched the side of her neck. “Are you afraid of heights? Is that why you can’t fly?” Something clicked in my mind as I spoke and the filly touched her nose to me again. Then she stepped back, turned, and cantered away with her parents close by. I was left alone with another piece of the puzzle and the two unicorns still standing by my side.
Chapter Two
After a walk home that took every ounce of my energy, I stripped and showered, then dressed in a pair of pajamas, crawled into bed and fell fast asleep. I awakened to sunlight streaming through my bedroom window and a pegasus family in my front yard. As it always did when I saw them, my heart soared and I tossed back the covers and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. By the time I returned from the bathroom, brushing my hair and teeth, and dressing, I realized I wasn’t as sore as I normally would have been after a day of magical and physical exertion. I started a pot of coffee, then slid on my boots and stepped outside.
The pegasii didn’t move.
“Are you okay?” I addressed my question to the filly, not sure I’d even get an answer. I had to try.
The filly reared back and stretched out her wings, flapping them hard enough to send a gust of wind rushing past me. Apparently she was fine.
The stallion lowere
d his head. Help?
I blinked, not quite sure the low, masculine voice I heard in my head was real. “Are you asking me if I can help her with her fear of heights?”
The stallion nodded his head.
I exhaled sharply. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I can try.” I swallowed hard. I’d read in a book about the care and protection of magical creatures that sometimes they spoke in your mind and you could develop relationships like them. Not like a relationship a mage had to a socia, but certainly work together. I’d never imagined that they would talk to me. “I need to know more.” I really spoke out loud just to think through things for myself, not really anticipating that they would listen or even understand. “Did something happen? Was there something that made her afraid of heights?”
Not that there had to be anything. I knew people had seemingly irrational fears all the time. I mean, I wasn’t a fan of spiders and to my knowledge none had ever bit me and I hadn’t encountered anything larger than the occasional wolf spider. I quieted my mind and my words. No reply was forthcoming. And I wasn’t wrong. I needed help.
“I’ll try,” I repeated. “I’ll do what I can.” I turned and went inside, sitting down at my computer and radio. Instead of logging onto the frequencies, I opened my email and sent a message to the traffic controller’s office.
USENC7 seeks to contact USK157 to talk about the article about her in the Times. I have a situation that I hope she can help with. 73
I sent my message, then grabbed the copy of the book off my bookshelf. The chapter on trying to make a connection with the magical creature caught my attention and I carried it to my comfy chair. My cup of coffee grew cold as I read, engrossed in how to reach out to these wonderful beings. When I looked up and glanced out the window, the pegasus family was gone and I had to admit I felt a small bit of loss. As I came to the end of the chapter, I realized I never did send the message asking for help with the shed, so I returned to my computer, happy to see a message from the traffic controller.
The Pegasus Project: A Musimagium Story (The Pegasus Enchantment Book 1) Page 1