Secret of the Unicorn (Avalon: Web of Magic #4) (2 page)

SooOOKKwHooONGGG!

A deafening cacophony of sound burst from the flute, like a dozen different chords being played at once on an enormous pipe organ.

Emily’s eyes flew open. The notes hung in the air, vibrating and fighting one another, loud and jarring and clashing. Her flute was changing colors—gold, scarlet, amethyst, and emerald flashed across its polished surface, one after another, flowing like waves. The colors expanded and filled the room, glowing brighter and brighter with every passing second, until dark spots swam in front of Emily’s eyes. She leaped to her feet, letting the flute fall to the thick beige carpet. Her jewel was flashing like a rainbow beacon.

And just like that, the colors winked out and the sound stopped, as if someone had flipped a switch.

Emily blinked, trying to clear her vision.

A knock on the door broke through the sudden silence. “Emily?”

With a gasp, Emily jumped.

She hurried to the door and flung it open. Her mother stood in the narrow upstairs hallway, dressed in her veterinarian’s lab coat, smiling wryly.

“Got the flute out, I hear.” Carolyn Fletcher peered into the room curiously. “Sounded like a whole orchestra.”

“Oh, uh, I was playing along with the radio,” Emily lied breathlessly, sliding a long sleeve over her jeweled wrist. “Didn’t realize it was so loud.”

Carolyn nodded, handing Emily a sheet of paper. “My noon appointment’s here, Doc,” she said. “I need you to check this delivery. This order doesn’t seem right.”

Emily gawked at the shipping slip as if waiting for it to turn green.

“Now would be a good time,” Carolyn added sternly.

With a flash of guilt, Emily glanced at the clock on her bedside table. “I guess I lost track of time.”

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately.” Carolyn raised an eyebrow. “I can’t always be available to back you up when you get off schedule. Our guests in the Pet Palace can’t feed themselves, you know.”

“I know,” Emily mumbled. “I’m sorry. I’m on it right now.”

“And make sure those dogs get walked!” Carolyn called out.

“Okay!” Hurrying past her mother, Emily took the stairs two at a time and headed for the back door. The Pet Palace was located in an old barn behind the house. It had been Emily’s idea, when they’d first moved to Stonehill that summer, to convert it into a kennel for boarding pets.

As Emily jogged across the short strip of lawn separating the house from the barn, she read over the delivery form. Two dozen bags of gourmet kibble, liver, beef, bacon, and mixed blend; eight boxes of special biscuits and treats; a box of jerky strips; two dozen snuggle toys; a pet bed heater; and a grooming kit?

That’s a strange order, Emily thought. It looked like supplies for a pet
party
. She swung open the barn door, and her eyes widened in horror.

The kennel was a disaster. Large bags of pet food were flung everywhere. Near a row of open cages, Muffin, the Feltners’ terrier, and Ranger, the Paulsons’ shepherd mix were growling at each other as they played tug-of-war with a strip of beef jerky. The rear paws of a spotted beagle stuck out of a giant bag of gourmet kibble. A very contented Persian cat stared out from inside a box of treats.

“These liver snaps are delicious,” a voice said around a mouth full of food.

Emily looked at the cat, eyes wide. “You can talk?”

“Of course I can talk! Pass some of that jerky.”

Oh, no! She flashed back to the wild colors dancing across her flute, those bursts of weird sound in her room. Had she accidentally released some kind of crazy magic? She and her friends had learned a lot about how magic worked, but they still didn’t know everything. Not even close.

“Easy, Maurice,” she called softly, taking a step toward the cat. “How long have you been talking?”

Maurice blinked big green eyes. “Ever since I was a little elf.”

A small, bright-eyed, furry face popped into view behind the cat. Two ferret eyes went wide in astonishment as they surveyed the barn. “
Gah!
I told you guys to put the stuff away! I didn’t mean literally!”

So
that’s
who’d been talking! “Ozzie.” Emily crossed her arms and glared at the golden-brown ferret. “What’s going on here?”

Ozzie shook his head. Then he hopped out of the kibble pile and, standing on his back paws, brushed crumbs off his belly. He had a small silver comb stuck in the fur behind his ears.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” Emily asked sternly.

“Uurrrp.”

“Did you place this order?” She waved the shipping form in the ferret’s face, forcing him to sit back.

Squeak!

“’Scuse me.” Ozzie removed two snuggle toys from under his rump. “You said you needed help with the supplies, so I ordered some.”

Emily put her hands on her hips and glared at him. She should have known. This wasn’t a magical mishap at all. It was an Ozzie ferret fiasco.

Ozzie could pass as an ordinary ferret, as long as he didn’t open his mouth to talk. He was really an elf from a magical world called Aldenmor. He had been sent to Earth by the Fairimentals, protectors of the good magic of Aldenmor, to search for three mages—a healer, a warrior, and a blazing star. They were destined to help find a mysterious place called Avalon, the legendary home of all magic. Ozzie had been upset to find that the Fairimentals had disguised him as a ferret to help him blend in on Earth. But he still managed to enjoy exploring everything this new world had to offer—especially the edible parts.

“I asked you to inventory supplies, not order the entire catalog!” Emily said, bending over to pull the jerky away from the struggling dogs.

Ozzie shrugged and kicked piles of loose kibble into a half-empty plastic package. “I inventoried. There was nothing left. Mmrrph
,
these liver snaps are especially tasty.”

Emily watched him shove more food into his mouth. So much for having everything under control. As usual, control seemed to have slipped away from her when she was least expecting it.

“
Stoof!”
Ozzie spit out a piece of kibble. “Who ordered the rice and lamb flavor?”

“How am I going to explain this?” she grumbled, grabbing a broom. “Since you made this mess, the least you could do is help me clean up.”

“Sure, no problem.” He leaned hard against Scooter the beagle, trying to push the dog’s nose away from the bag of kibble. “Ugh—move it!”

“We have to hurry.” Emily started picking up boxes and bags. “I’m supposed to pick up Kara at the football game, then meet Adriane at Ravenswood.”

Ozzie had resorted to jumping onto the dog’s back. Scooter stood up, and Ozzie slid off with a “Whoa!” scattering more treats across the floor.

Scooter sat on Ozzie and licked the ferret’s head.

“
Gak!”
Ozzie wriggled away.

Emily rolled her eyes. Obviously she was going to have to take care of things herself—and fast. If she didn’t leave soon, she would be late meeting her friends.

Thinking about Kara and Adriane gave her an idea. She stared at her stone.

Could she do this? Moving objects around magically was Adriane’s department, not hers. Still, what did she have to lose? “It’s worth a shot, right?”

“Yes-
aahhk!”
The two other dogs were jumping excitedly up and down over Ozzie. “Hurry!” the ferret screamed.

Emily stared at the jewel on her wrist, focusing all her attention on it. Her breathing slowed. She lifted her eyes to a big bag of kibble and pictured it moving up into the air and over to one of the open food bins against the far wall. Her stone began to glow softly as she worked to visualize every detail—the bag lifting, swaying, and floating across the room.

At first she didn’t think it was working. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, she willed herself to sink deeper into her own mind, concentrating totally on her goal. The room around her faded into a vague, misty background. Nothing existed except her and the bag.

The bag quivered, then slowly levitated a few inches into the air.

“I did it!” Emily cried. “It’s moving!”

Psyched that her experiment was working so well, Emily refocused her energy. By using magic, she could have the whole place cleaned up in no time! The bag lifted higher. . . higher. . . Soon it was floating five feet above the floor.

“Okay,” she murmured. “Now to move you over to the bins.”

She traced an arc in the air with her gemstone, trying to steer the levitating bag toward the wall. The bag shuddered and bucked.

At the same time, her head was filled with a jangling, discordant sound—awful, broken, painful notes just like her flute had made a few minutes earlier. These were stronger, though.

“Ruff!”

A chubby beagle floated by Emily’s head.

“Uh-oh.”

“Meow!”

There went Maurice!

Suddenly the barn was filled with flying animals, floating around the room in a whirl.

“Down!” Emily yelled out.

Kapow!

A bag of kibble under Ozzie exploded in a burst of rainbow light, so bright that Emily cried out and squeezed her eyes shut.

“Whubbaa!” Ozzie tumbled head over heels from the center of the explosion.

Emily felt tiny, hard objects pelt her head and shoulders like hail. Squinting cautiously through one eye, she saw sparkling pellets raining down all around her. As they hit the floor, they popped back into ordinary brown kibble.

As suddenly as it began, it all stopped. The animals were on the ground, no worse for the wear.

What had just happened? What was that awful noise?

Ozzie tottered over to Emily. “Are you okay?”

The healer shook her head, weird, jangling sounds echoing in her mind. “Something is very wrong.”

“H
EEL, SCOOTER!” EMILY
cried.

The stout little beagle looked up at her uncomprehendingly, his pink tongue lolling happily out of his mouth. With a shrill
yip
! he bounced off in pursuit of a passing moth, tangling his leash around Ranger’s legs. Muffin stopped suddenly, nose down, investigating a half-eaten hot dog.

“Aaaargh!” Emily tugged at the leashes, dragging the three dogs toward the playing fields behind the high school.

Just ahead, she could hear the cheers of a large crowd. Today was Stonehill Middle School’s first big football game of the year, and it sounded as if half the town had turned out. It was just past noon. She hoped it was almost half-time. The sooner Kara’s cheerleading was over, the sooner they could join Adriane at Ravenswood. Emily couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong there and every minute she had to wait was a minute lost.

As Emily and her charges got closer, she heard the marching band start to play. They sound pretty good, she thought. Not like the lame band at my old school.

Hurrying forward and peering through a gap in the bleachers, she saw the band standing in formation on the sidelines on the far side of the field. As she turned away to check on the dogs, the band finished their song and started another. The last one had been a fight song, but this new one sounded—different. Emily listened in surprise, rooted to the spot. The instruments sounded muted and exotic, the complex and sinuous melody slithering its way into her mind like a snake. She blinked, and her eyelids felt strangely heavy and slow. Why did she suddenly feel so funny, like she was moving through water instead of air? The music crept into her mind, taking root—beautiful, haunting, incredible music. It sounded so familiar. Swinging her head around with effort, she stared at the marching band.

Wait. . . a. . . second, she thought, the words flowing through her mind like molasses. They’re not even. . . playing their instruments. . . right now. Where. . . is that music. . . coming from?

“Rrrrrowrf!”

Emily snapped out of her daze as Scooter leaped forward, yanking the leash right out of her hand. “Hey!” she blurted as the little beagle raced toward a tall woman who was just turning away from the nearby hot-dog stand. “Oh no,” she whispered as she recognized the woman.

Mrs. Beasley Windor let out a shriek as the beagle planted his muddy paws on her spotless beige slacks. “Off!” she yelled. “Get off of me, you mangy beast!”