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

  “Okay,” I replied, thankful to be moving away from the noise.

  Jerimiah opened the door to a trailer with the Musimagium logo on the door. Cool air flowed out, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Not even noon and already the day was stifling. I stepped in with a helping hand from Jerimiah, followed by Etta. He closed the door behind us. Without saying anything, he went to a shelf and pulled out two small packages of ear plugs and two pairs of safety glasses, handing them to us. “If you’re going to be walking around the site, make sure you wear these. You never know what might happen.”

  I took them with thanks.

  “So how can I help you? As you can see we’re rebuilding the bridge. They didn’t find any signs of sabotage. It was some weak welding. Apparently the company tried to cut corners by using lesser materials.”

  Frankly that worried me more than the idea that someone wanted to sabotage the school. People would be living and working in these buildings. If inferior building materials had been used, then who knew when, or if, something substantial might fail. “You have a way to test for that? I admit to not knowing how your magic works, but it seems to me that we should be able to verify that the integrity of the buildings is intact.”

  “It’s not quite that easy. We check during construction, but after that…”

  “No one does any sort of checking. So if it lasts through construction and grand opening, then no one cares?” My voice rose, and I struggled to keep my anger from it. He didn’t deserve my ire. Not when he was tasked with making sure that happened. “Have you reported this to your superiors?”

  “I have. It’s something they’re looking into.”

  I frowned, not liking his response. Too often in the bureaucratic maze that was the Musimagium, when someone “looked into something” it got shuffled into some pile and left for later. A later which often never came. “I see. Well can you give me a tour? I’d like to see where I’ll be working. I don’t want to overlook a single detail.”

  Etta radiated approval next to me. If she thought I’d be a desk jockey and not involved in the day to day operations of the school, then she was sorely mistaken. The more I got to know the pegasus, my filly, the more I knew that this would need to be something that I devoted myself completely to. The animals and my future students deserved no less.

  Chapter Six

  We returned home to find a third pegasus in my back yard. This one appeared young, maybe about the filly’s age, and rather shy. It stuck close to Kestara, and when I queried the filly about her, I was told that she just arrived after a long flight, but had said little. She’d eaten and drank, then slept, only waking up not long before we returned home. I wondered how many we’d have appear and just what sort of arrangements I’d have to make. My patio would only hold so many animals safely.

  Etta went outside to take care of the daily chores. The new arrival stood next to the water trough, sipping slowly and watching her as she pushed the wheelbarrow and put out another bale of hay in the feeder. The one that we’d placed a day ago was nearly gone, no doubt because of the new arrival. I sat at the computer, taking the opportunity to watch the new filly. Her ribs showed against her white coat, which had deep dust stains and hollows where sweat had stained it on her shoulders and flanks. Burrs tangled in her mane and tail, rendering them useless for swatting insects. My filly assured me the new arrival was fine for now, just needed to recover, and not wanting to bother her, I checked my emails, including drafting one to Paul about what I’d seen.

  I’d heard back from Olivia about some of my concerns that people seemed to dislike the unicorns and pegasus, that by bringing such animals out in the open some kind of rules of magic were being breached. I didn’t understand the mindset personally. Most people with magical ability used it in small ways throughout their lives. Only the Musimagium had academies and schools to train people in the use of magic. Perhaps that’s what worried the Musimagium. If others had access to magical creatures, then they may not have such a stranglehold on education. Personally, I thought that was silly. The more people who knew, the better off and the safer we’d all be. Though it seemed that our bigger threat was in the companies we hired to do the work for us cutting corners. Anger still churned in my gut over my meeting this morning.

  I hadn’t heard back from Rose. I noticed Paul had forwarded to me a spreadsheet of classes, along with a few word documents with the students’ names blanked out. He let me know the instructors assigned classes; students at Melody weren’t allowed to choose the classes they wanted to take. But he provided the list of all selections for all years, each on a separate sheet, as well as sample class schedules for a few members of each year to give me an idea. He asked that my academy follow that model. It required more staff hours to figure out everyone’s schedules and a few of them served as guidance counselors. However, it seemed to be a more efficient model and streamlined a student’s progress, ensuring each student received the training to which she or he was suited.

  The last line bothered me. The training to which the student was suited. As if students didn’t know enough about themselves and their abilities to be masters of their own destinies. It reminded me of my mother pushing me to play the piano. I loved it, but I’d often wondered, especially as the RA got worse and my career grew shorter, what would have happened had I perhaps played the violin or even the flute. Nearly all instruments required finger dexterity to play. Some required it more than others. Being a concert pianist had been tough on my hands before the diagnosis.

  I thanked him for sending the information. I’d have to look at it in more detail and saved the files in my folder for the academy. A glance outside showed clouds building. It might rain this afternoon and that would give me time to review some of the information. Two more resumes hit my inbox as I was finishing up my emails. I added them to the list.

  Etta sat down in the living room. “Do you think there are other places in the buildings that aren’t as well built as they should be?”

  “I don’t know.” I faced her and shook my head. “I wish I did, because that bothers me too. I think there’s something mages like Jerimiah can do, and I’ve reached out to Paul about it. The idea that they would not do inspections of buildings, especially given that some of the Musimagium buildings are over a hundred years old seems crazy. What do they do? Magically patch them and hope no one notices the holes?” I laughed partially to dissipate my lingering unease.

  “You got a point.” Etta rubbed her temples. “What seemed like a good idea is turning into a kind of nightmare, isn’t it? And we don’t know how many pegasus will be showing up or why or even where they’re coming from? Kestara doesn’t understand human geography. All she could say was somewhere north and cold.”

  “Which could be anywhere from Colorado to Alaska, right? Not to mention vast swaths of Canada.” I didn’t want to appear as if I didn’t believe magical creatures could come from other parts of the world. Some Musimagium might believe America had a monopoly on such things. I knew enough to believe the creatures didn’t care at all for our human boundaries.

  “Right. Even the images I got couldn’t tell me much. She never posed with a sign.” Etta chuckled at her own joke. “The new filly looks rough, doesn’t she? Like wherever she came from it wasn’t good for her.”

  “No, she doesn’t look good.” I glanced out the window where the filly hovered near the water trough, never getting too far away from it. Almost as if she believed that if she went with the others, when she returned it’d be gone. I hated to think what sort of environment would produce that and if she’d ever talk to us. My filly reassured me that the new arrival was doing well and she’d fill out now that she had access to food and water. My filly informed me she and Kestara were trying to encourage the new arrival to go with them to wherever it was that they spent most of their days, feeding on energies, I guessed, because they hadn’t yet explained how exactly they existed. As of now, the new arrival had refused.

  She also needed a na
me. Since the filly told me they earned their names, perhaps she had one, but if other pegasus were coming, she wouldn’t be the new arrival for long. “We need to call her something besides new arrival,” I told Etta. “Can you help me think of something until she reveals her name?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. It seems silly, but she reminds me of Ginger in Black Beauty. She’s not a chestnut, but she sure looks as if she’s had a rough life and needs some love.”

  I smiled. “I like that. We’ll call her Ginger.” Of course this left the filly without any actual name, but every time I tried to ask what she wanted to be called, she insisted she was the filly. We discussed plans for the day just as the sky opened up and poured down rain. The unicorns and the two pegasus came galloping to the patio, startling Ginger. As soon as they ducked beneath the shelter, they touched noses with her, settling her down. Although I wanted to do computer work, perhaps this would be a good time to spend some time with them. “Want to see if there’s room for us on the patio?” I stood and grabbed my cane, going to the kitchen to fill the pack I fastened around my waist with treats.

  As soon as I stepped onto the porch, the filly turned and nuzzled the pack. Treats? She rubbed her nose on Ginger, and I sensed communication passing between them. Ginger turned and looked at me, eyes wide. She trembled, though she licked her lips.

  “Yes, little ones. I have treats.” I unzipped the pack, moving slowly, then reaching in and pulling out one of the morsels. I offered it to the filly who gobbled it from my hand, smacking her lips loud enough to make me wonder if she were putting on a show. Then, she nuzzled Ginger again. Kestara stood back from us, until Etta came out, her hands full of the treats too.

  Only when Etta offered one to Kestara, who took it with delight, did Ginger stretch out her neck. I held my hand as steady as I could. “Sorry, little one. I shake.” She sniffed my hand, then lipped the treat from it and stepped back as if she were afraid of getting hurt.

  A sob bubbled up in my throat. I recognized it now, the signs of a creature who had been abused. “I’m so sorry, little one,” I whispered. “I don’t know who hurt you, but if I find out they will pay. You will never be hurt here again. You will never know anything but love and care. Talk to the filly or Kestara or the unicorns. Even the filly’s parents, though they are staying close to the shelter.” I lifted my hand to stroke her thin neck, hurt but understanding when she stepped away from it. “You will only know love.”

  Ginger lowered her head and blew softly, as if she heard my words.

  She doesn’t believe us. We’ve told her that. She’ll see. The filly reassured her with a touch of her muzzle. Another treat?

  “Of course you can have another treat. There’s plenty for everyone.” I offered the filly another treat, though Ginger stepped back to stand by her flank. Though I offered more treats to her, she didn’t step up again.

  Etta and I shared a look. Someone had hurt this young pegasus.

  “You’re safe here,” I told her when my pouch was empty. “And there’s more treats in the house, but I think the filly has had enough for today.” Even the unicorn mare had stepped forward to take the offered bites, also seeking to reassure Ginger. Thankful that she had equine support, I stepped back into the house just as the rain abated. I washed my hands, hung the pouch on its hook at the end of the counter, then went back to the computer. I had a lot to say. I just needed to find out who I would be saying it to.

  Chapter Seven

  An email from Paul put me in touch with Rosemary Lawrence, Magical Creature Archivist for the Musimagium. His brief introduction explained that I would be the new head of the Pegasus Academy, though I wondered if the name shouldn’t encompass the unicorns and maybe even horse socius who might appear at our gates. I couldn’t quibble with my title. I had more important things to do. I thanked Paul for his introduction then wrote my observations about Ginger, that I felt she’d come from some place where she’d been abused and not treated well. I asked if she knew of other places where pegasus or other magical equines gathered with mages, then sent the email.

  Ginger’s condition weighed on me. If only she could talk, tell me where she came from or about how she had been treated. After binging on treats, the filly and Kestara lay down to rest, Ginger between them. The unicorns dozed on their feet nearby, no doubt keeping watch as horses did over sleeping members of the herd. We needed more than an academy, I decided. We needed a sanctuary.

  I typed off an email to Olivia, feeling bad about adding to her workload. It sounded as if she had her hands full enough already. Rose had replied. She’d been away on a mission, though she hadn’t said what kind. She expressed an interest in seeing the academy and let me know she had a lead on someone who might be able to teach the kind of weapons skill I was looking for. She added a laugh emoji and mentioned she’d be the last person who might know someone like that, but her companions had connections upon connections.

  I replied with my thanks, then turned my attention to the document. The resumes were bland enough, the kind of people who might be okay for teaching at any academy. Not mine. I longed to have exceptional teachers, not just giving lip service to the word, but the ones who weren’t afraid to break a few rules or challenge existing structures to see if they could make things better. I didn’t need anyone bowing to my authority. I needed people as passionate about this mission as I was.

  I let Paul know what I thought of the resumes, then shut down the computer. My body told me it needed to rest, so I went to the bedroom and lay down. An hour later, the filly’s frightened mental screams awakened me.

  I scrambled from bed, grabbing my cane as I rose to my feet. I rushed into the living room to find Etta opening the patio doors. I hurried behind her, shutting them behind me. The filly pranced and whirled in the yard, just beyond the patio. She reared onto her hind legs, pawing in the air, only to drop on all fours and snort, as if she faced a gruesome enemy.

  “What is it?” I asked, working my way across the ground to get to her, not wanting to get accidentally kicked in the process. “What happened?” I didn’t see the unicorns or the other pegasus.

  Attack! Attack! She managed to keep her wits about her to drop to the ground. I crawled on her back, Etta right behind me. Any concerns I might have had about her carrying both of us faded as she bolted to her feet and took off. I tangled my fingers in her mane to stay on board, realizing as I did so that my fingers came back slick with blood.

  Anger rose within me. The filly focused on her flying, her thoughts too chaotic for me to tap into them and find out exactly what was going on. The blood worried me. After the teenagers had shot at them, I’d thought the situation had been resolved. I focused on hanging on, not liking the discordant magical current I sensed.

  “Do you feel that?” Etta asked over my shoulder. “Almost like someone is trying to unravel the magic?”

  Now that she mentioned it, that was exactly what this felt like, and I didn’t like it. “Yeah. I do.” I hunched down over the filly’s neck as she flew faster. I realized by watching the landscape passing beneath us that we weren’t heading to the back of my property like I thought. Instead, we were flying toward the school, the buildings growing larger on the horizon. There, in the courtyard, I saw four white shapes, and my heart jumped into my throat. Two unicorns and the pegasus stood there, drawn and trapped by something. Figures, four of them, stood at the cardinal directions and the red lightning from their magic, a kind completely unknown to me, lashed out at them.

  Ginger huddled next to Kestara. Etta whimpered behind me, and I didn’t blame her. The unicorns stood defiant, though the stallion’s sides shook with his attempts to defend against the onslaught it was clear he was weakening.

  The filly descended behind them, and I quickly wrapped a shield around us. Jerimiah wasn’t among the men, and in spite of it being in the middle of the day, none of the workers were visible. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Something was going on here, something sinis
ter that went deeper than mere sabotage.

  While I tried to determine what spells I had in my arsenal, since most offensive measures weren’t necessary to be a concert pianist, Etta slid down from the filly’s back and went running toward the men. Before I could shout or do anything to distract her she fired two Noceo spells at the closest men. They staggered, though didn’t fall. She fired again, this time getting their attention.

  “I’m safer on your back, sweetheart,” I told the filly. Out here, on the ground, without my cane, I’d be toppled over like a child’s building blocks. I patted her neck. “But I can hang on, so let’s do what we need to do.”

  The filly took my words to heart. Charging forward, she reared at the closest man, striking him with her hooves. His hood flew from his head to reveal a young man, maybe twenty, with greasy brown hair and stubble on his cheek. He twisted, reaching up.

  “Noceo!” I fired my energy at him, hoping it worked. Damn, I really needed offensive training like students had. As much as I detested weapons, a stick, even a Taser would help us out right now.

  He fell to the ground.

  The filly pounced on the next man, chomping into his shoulder with her teeth. I sensed her distaste, the curl of her lips as if he tasted bad. He grabbed his shoulder, snarling and shoving back against the filly. She stood firm, though I smelled the sizzle of magic hitting flesh.

  I tightened my fingers in her mane. “Noceo!” I shoved the spell at him.

  He fell to the ground.

  I sagged against the filly’s neck, the strength leaving me now that I’d sent two of those spells. More than I’d been trained to do. She didn’t wait. She whirled and charged the third man who raised his hand at us.

  “Run!” I yelled at the unicorns and pegasus. “Go!”