Pegasus In Flight: A Musimagium Story (The Pegasus Enchantment Book 2)

by Mary Kit Caelsto

  http://marykitcaelsto.com/go/tonicchords/

  Chapter One

  If I’d wanted to go back to school, well, I would have gone. I wasn’t a stranger to learning. I loved school. What I didn’t love was this feeling of propaganda being shoved down my throat. My gigs had become pretty much nonexistent since Alamar had been well, wiped. Whoops. I hadn’t meant to destroy his memories, all of them including the ability to play the saxophone. I stared at the instrument, purchased off of some kind of Radio Arcanum eBay-lite program, in my lap. The clarinet I knew. Remembered fingers, tips, tricks, embouchure, even the way it felt to work my way from beginner to intermediate books. If I were to teach Alamar how to play again, I had to figure this thing out myself.

  You’re not going to honk again are you? You’re not a bird. Pito poked his head from the sling I wore across my front to hold him against me. With the stranger in the house, never mind that Hazel had been here for four weeks and I still considered her the interloper, Pito preferred to hang out with me whenever possible. I didn’t blame him. We had to band together. Especially since one wrong move on my part could have my music and magic ability stripped from me.

  I tried not to laugh. Since Hazel had arrived, laughter seemed like I was having too much fun, not taking this seriously. We sat down for two hours every afternoon to go over the books, starting with The History of the Musimagia, as if I were some kind of elementary student. Not even my college instructors had talked down as much to me. I suspect she wanted me to learn just how serious this was, how close I’d come to having everything taken away. I knew it. I also knew that I’d had to do whatever it took to protect my haven, my node as I was learning to call it. And honestly, if I had it to do all over again, I would. No questions asked. Not even the part about wiping Alamar’s mind.

  Dewain had gone back to Brazil. Armis business he’d said. I didn’t like it, not when Hazel and I had fended off two minor attacks while Dewain spoke about a group, Aquari Testimoni, who may or may not be a branch of Noctis. Apparently no one in the Musimagia hierarchy knew either. Only that they’d infiltrated some of the Auxiliaries and Musimagia operations in the US and had started overseas. Nothing here in Central or South America, but then again, one thing I’d learned about being an ex-pat was that mostly the big players ignored us unless we could prove to be useful. Still, Dewain kept his ear to the ground and I was allowed on Radio Arcanum to get information. Sometimes.

  Hazel was moving around in the living room. Not her daily tai chi practice; she did that outside on the back patio. No, this was most likely setting up another exercise for me. Yay, me.

  She is helping you hone your skills. You should be more appreciative.

  I frowned at the lizard cuddling against me. If he weren’t so cute, I might—

  No you wouldn’t. You need me.

  I did. I admit it. A discordant note of magic drew my attention, nothing from inside the house. I set the saxophone on my bed. I’d figure it out later, and ignored the laugh that Pito gave in my mind. Hey, I’d pretty much self-taught myself a lot of the clarinet. The YouTube videos I’d watched made saxophone seem not that much harder. At the moment it didn’t matter. Not when something wasn’t right. Out of reflex, I held my hand over Pito as I stood and went to my bedroom door.

  I opened it to find Hazel sitting down on the floor, feet pressed together, bent forward as if she were in child’s pose. Except, I didn’t think so, and when I glanced outside the sun shone, so it wasn’t like she couldn’t do yoga outdoors, her usual location. I opened my mouth to speak. She held up her hand in the universal gesture for quiet. I knew then, she sensed it too.

  I stood for a long moment staring at her, then decided this might require my going outside, so I took Pito back to his habitat. He scurried up to his log with a mental thanks and began to bask. By the time I closed the glass door and turned, Hazel had stood.

  “Check the defenses,” she said, and I knew this wasn’t a training exercise, though we’d started many with those words.

  I closed my eyes and sensed along the barriers I’d placed along the perimeter of my cottage and the yard, then reached into the rain forest to follow trails and check various points that Dewain had helped me place for a secure perimeter. There, not next to the node, but rather close to the road, something lingered. I wouldn’t have called it malevolent or even dangerous. Certainly it wasn’t right. I turned to Hazel and her gaze met mine.

  “Should we—”

  She held up her hand, stopping me from asking my question. For a moment I stood there confused. Maybe I wasn’t meant to ask, that knowing was part of my training and I ought to have known what we should do by now. So I closed my eyes and followed the source of the oddness until I realized it was a person, someone I didn’t know—I’d gotten better at remote sensing individual people—and it seemed as if their thoughts were jumbled. A homeless person. I knew now, because I remembered seeing him. I actually thought he might live closer to the main road in the lean-to I’d seen there. He’d never come this far before, though I’d often seen him scavenging along the road, perhaps even hunting. A moment later I realized he was coming here.

  My eyelids flew open and I stared at Hazel. Had she done something to call him? She knew how much I valued my privacy.

  “This isn’t my doing,” she said. “I know of him because I’ve made it a point to make contacts as I’ve gone into town. It’s vital after what happened that we know who everyone is.”

  And what side they’re on. The unspoken words, especially with the arrival of the Aquari Testimoni, hung between us. It wouldn’t do me any good to ask why he was here and what he wanted because we didn’t know. I wasn’t that good of a reader, not yet. Deciding it was better to face the danger head on, I opened the door and stepped outside. I paused, expecting Hazel to follow me, she didn’t, and that made me wonder if this were some kind of a test.

  I stopped about ten feet in front of my house and waited. When I focused on him, I sensed him growing closer, his agitation growing. I heard him, before I saw him, his muttered words under his breath as if he were having an argument with someone. “Mad bard. Mad bard.” He kept repeating the phrase over and over again. I’d heard about the Mad Bards in my history book. They were a splintered group of the Musimagia who thought that the magic should be much more tied to the natural world rather than run by councils and hierarchies. They hated the pomp and circumstance of the Musimagia and frankly, I didn’t blame them.

  I recognized his shuffling gait and long, knotted black hair. Not quite dreadlocks, but possibly needing a comb, a long blue denim coat that seemed incongruous with the rain forest weather, but maybe it was all he had, and a pair of jeans and black boots with holes in the toes. He held a sack that must have contained his worldly possessions. I didn’t see an instrument or any other evidence he could have powers. Yet, my history books told me the Mad Bards did have the same powers we did.

  “Hello,” I called and waved what I hoped was cheerfully when he approached. “How are you?”

  He grunted and walked forward half a dozen more steps, then stopped. “Need permission to come closer.”

  I would have made a vampire crack, except lore said they needed permission to come into houses and I didn’t want to find out if they were real or not. Heck, if a talking bearded dragon were real, then vampires might be too. I realized I was staring and nodded. “As long as you don’t mean any harm,” I said in what I thought was a joking tone of voice.

  “Girl, if I’d meant to harm you it would have been done. You’re new.”

  Yeah, I was pretty used to that. Around here if you weren’t born in the jungle then you were a transplant, and the newness never wore off, especially if you’d started out as an American. “Thanks,” I replied. “Can I help you with something?”

  “This place you’re guarding. It’s pretty special,” he said as he came forward. “You have help here but they want to bend you to your rules. I’m here to offer another way.”

&n
bsp; Well this would have been nice a few months ago. I bit back the retort that came to my lips. He’d just arrived, and until now I’d thought he was just a crazy old guy, not anyone who could have helped. I suspect that probably said more about my privileged American upbringing than it did about him. “I’m not sure I can take another way,” I said and sensed, rather than heard, Hazel moving behind me. The rules were simple. I had to learn how to be a good little Musimagia and follow the rules or I lost everything. “I’m sorry.”

  “You always have choices. She just didn’t tell you that.” He looked behind me as I heard the door open and Hazel stepped out onto the front porch. I moved a bit to make room for her. “You Musimagia think you have all the answers, that your rules make you civilized. Instead, you topple and steal like the white men who came to our shores so many centuries ago. Your rules are the smallpox that wipes out creativity and joy. You create lassos of power and snare the unwilling like our young girl here. You will not win.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Hazel said and laid her hand possessively on my shoulder.

  I kept quiet. Not that I was sure it was the right thing to do because I knew what it made me look like, a weak person who couldn’t stand up to a single member of the Musimagia. The fear in my veins made me leery of doing anything to rock the boat. I swallowed hard. “Can I know your name?”

  “Diego,” he said. “My name is Diego, Tory.” He spoke the words aloud, as if he’d recently just rediscovered the simple fact of his name. “The vipers no longer pump me full of chemicals just to make me appear like them. I talk to the spirits and the trees tell me that you are on dangerous ground. That the path you think will bring safety will bring anything but. I came here to warn you, should you decide to hear it.”

  Hazel’s fingers tightened on my shoulder, and I got the impression she knew far more than she’d let on. “Thank you,” I said, thinking that was probably the safest and the most polite response. I curdled inside. I hated giving the safe answer, the one that was designed to keep me out of trouble. That reminded me too much of my childhood, of what you do when you’re the daughter of wealthy people. “I know where to find you if I have more questions,” I added, thinking that, too, shouldn’t raise any ire. He lived between me and the main road. Of course I knew where to find him. Never mind that one of my first questions would be, if he’d known about me, why had it taken him so long to reach out. Because if he’d come to me sooner, there’s a good chance I wouldn’t be in this position.

  http://marykitcaelsto.com/go/tonicchords/

  Left for dead when the Great Dividing happened, Olivia Santos retreated to her small southern Ohio acreage and her horses, including her longtime companion, Lady. Her home also hides a magical node, one whose energy supports a small herd of unicorns. As their guardian, she vows to protect them at any cost.

  A series of magical attacks on the node come from a rogue group within the Musimagium, one that wants to destroy the node and send the unicorns back to the magical realms from which they come for good.

  Olivia refuses to let that happen and when she discovers the group is backed by her old boss—the one who left her for dead—she’s forced back into the world of Armis and the Musimagium. They almost killed her once. Lady fears it will happen again.

  But Olivia has no choice and thankfully she’s not alone. Even with help, she knows if she can’t stop the attacks, she won’t live long enough to protect those she loves.

  https://books2read.com/ofsongsandhorns

  Chapter One

  Looking out my east window to see unicorns frolicking by the bird bath never ceased to amaze me. After four years of guardianship of both the herd and the magic portal they protected, I ought to have gotten used to the sight. I hadn’t. Beyond them were the fifteen acres of my horse pasture, just starting to turn lush and green with the arrival of spring. Lady, my gray mare who’d been the schoolmaster tasked with taking me through three levels of dressage, grazed next to her gelding buddy Danny. Shadow, a horse I’d rescued a year ago from a bad situation, grazed not too far away, growing bolder now that he’d realized that there’d be no pain here. His black and white splashes appeared like an abstract artwork against the impressionist painting the others appeared to be through the rain-streaked glass of the window.

  They’re worried. Lady’s voice filled my mind, and that too, still startled me, though it’d come right after the Great Dividing. Something isn’t right.

  A lot wasn’t right. I didn’t extrapolate. Lady didn’t care about the ills of the world, only her connection to the unicorns who didn’t talk to people, not even those of us with the power. I may not be a member of the Musimagium, but I could have been had I wanted to be. I didn’t. For a great many reasons. I know, I told her. I’m not seeing anything.

  I lifted the silver flute to my lips and blew a few experimental notes until I gave into the music flowing through my veins. Today’s tune was a variation on Bach’s Partitia in A Minor, and I suspect it bore only a passing resemblance to that original work. The complicated fingerings tested my skill and concentration. I sensed Lady hovering in the back of my mind, and suspected if I looked out the window, her tail would be swishing in tune to my music. Oh we’d danced, my old gray lady and I. We’d danced. Now, I played and she savored her retirement.

  Movement outside the window forced my attention to falter. The unicorns bolted, racing back into the woods that surrounded what I believed to be the source, and a portal, to connect to…something. A malevolent presence swept across her sanctuary and I shivered hard enough that the flute tumbled from my hands to bounce on the carpeted floor. I muttered under my breath and picked up the instrument, quickly checking it for any damage. I set it on the music stand and went to the window. What had just happened?

  The unicorns were gone. Lady stood at attention in the pasture staring off to the south as if something had caught her attention. Shadow and Danny stood nearby, also keeping watch. I would have dismissed it as deer—they startled the horses all the time—except for the evil that had crossed my senses. I didn’t like it. I caught Lady’s eye through the window and she gave a sharp nod of her head. Go check it out. I didn’t need to hear the words to know that was exactly what she wanted me to do.

  I slipped my feet into heavy boots and grabbed a light jacket, the days weren’t that warm yet. Snagging my hiking stick from its place near the front door, I slid a small piccolo into the sleeve on my staff that would hold it. I had no idea what I’d need and I’d learned early on to be prepared. I stepped outside.

  A stiff breeze buffeted me, whipping my long hair and threatening to pull it free from the braid that contained it. The jacket might not be enough as icy tendrils of wind darted down my collar and across the nape of my neck. Hurry! The sense of urgency came not from Lady, though she still stood guard, but from the forest and the unicorns. I darted off my front step and followed the path that led into the woods, my dread growing with each passing moment. Something was still out there. The trees grew thicker along the path, and I held up my arm and staff, as if they could bend them away. Normally I’d sing, expend a little magic, and the trees would listen. Not today. Not when I might need that power for something else.

  I reached the clearing, pushing through the last few branches nearly at a dead run. Normally I approached the unicorns carefully, slowly, certain that any move would startle them. How or why they chose me as their guardian, I didn’t know. No one ever said. When the Great Dividing was over I had what could only be described as a magical power source sitting in the middle of my woods and a herd of seven unicorns. When I stopped, I only counted six.

  And then I saw the six unicorns stood not just around the stone, but also the fallen body of the seventh. I searched, frantically, thankful to see the shallow rise and fall of the creature’s sides. It still lived.

  Moved to do something, I asked, “may I?” I bowed my head reverently and waited for a sense of wary acceptance. It took a moment for me to register that the unic
orns had stepped back enough to allow me to pass since I’d never been this close to them before, and I dropped to my knees next to the creature’s head. Its eye was closed, nostrils tinged red with whatever exertion had caused this. I dare not touch it, feared defiling such a beautiful and magical creature with my action. For a moment I closed my eyes and reached out to Lady. What should I do?

  A sense of sorrow at not knowing came back. Play?

  Of course. I pulled the piccolo from its holder and brought it to my lips. Immediately a piece sprang to mind, the overture from Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries. I played the opening notes, wishing magical strength to flow to the creature. Not from me or any living creature, but perhaps from the stone, from the portal, and from the earth itself. The best I knew, my property lay next to this major node, and though I didn’t speak about my unicorns, I knew others had experiences with mystical creatures near their nodes.

  After about ten minutes the creature’s eye fluttered open. It lifted its head and regarded me with a long stare of that impossibly blue eye, then, it rolled to get its legs beneath it, and a moment later, stood and shook itself. I hurried back, the notes only faltering just a bit. My marching band training had kept me nimble, the classical orchestra I’d played with before the Great Dividing giving me a large repertoire of music.

  The unicorn walked up to me and touched its muzzle to my chest. Thank you, Olivia. The other members of the herd bowed, then moved deeper into the woods.

  I stood, only aware my hands shook when I went to put the piccolo back in its holder. Whatever had just happened seemed disjointed in my mind, though the music, and the magic, lingered. I stared at the stone, startled when I saw a black line creep from the base. That couldn’t be good. Whatever had caused it had also injured one of the unicorns and I…I was completely out of my depth to deal with it. We need help, I told Lady, then turned and went back to the house.