Creation Mage 6 by Dante King (detective books to read txt) 📕

“Oh, sure,” Leah said. “Some of us might be a little on the eccentric side, but not a one of us are stupid.”

“Let me guess,” I said, “this Palmera aunt of yours got into the port barrel one night and decided to throw caution to the wind and jump the boundary fence. Whereupon she found the Queen was as good as her word and had enchanted the fence line or laid Arcane Mines across it or something. This resulted in Palmera losing an arm or a leg or a finger or an ear and taking on the moniker, Wonky. And thus, the Chaosbane Family learned an important lesson.”

Leah choked on her last mouthful of coffee and sprayed a brown mist of steaming droplets out onto the pristine snow.

“Very astute, very astute indeed,” she chortled. “You think you have the measure of the Chaosbane clan, don’t you, cocksure Earthling?”

“Was I close?” I asked as we approached the barn Leah had pointed out earlier.

“Way off,” Leah said. “What actually happened was that Palmera had been imbibing with lusty enthusiasm from the cooking sherry barrel one night—she couldn’t abide port. The silly old goose decided to throw caution to the wind and jump the boundary fence, whereupon she found the Queen was as good as her word and had enchanted the fence line with a series of Arcane Mines set about two paces back from the fence itself. This resulted in Palmera losing her head and taking on the very, very short-lived moniker, Wonky.”

“Your aunt got her head blown off by an Arcane Mine?” I said, not sure how much sympathy and incredulity I was expected to show at this insane revelation.

“Oh, and the Chaosbanes, as a family, learned an important lesson that day too,” Leah added cheerfully.

“Right,” I said slowly. “So what I can take away from that anecdote is that Aunt Palmera had the world’s shortest nickname, and also that it’s a terminally bad idea to try and take a stroll through Queen Hagatha’s garden?”

“That’s about it, yes,” Leah said.

“Then how are we getting there?” I asked. “Manafell doesn’t look like it’s that far away.”

“It’s not really, toffeetush,” Leah said, “but because we have to take the circuitous route, it would take a while to walk. So, I thought we’d save some precious time and take the pegasi.”

“Pegasi?” I asked. “As in the winged horses?”

“Smarty-pants,” Leah said.

We arrived at the barn, and Leah reached up and unfasted the large wooden bar across the doorway.

“Be a gentleman, would you?” she asked me, motioning to the bar.

I passed Leah my empty coffee cup. Then, puffing a little, I heaved the bar out of the brackets that held it and stood it up against a nearby fence. The wooden bar must have weighed about sixty pounds.

“Man,” I said, “it’s heavy enough, but is a bar the only security you have to keep people from stealing your horses?”

Leah patted me on the shoulder and then pinched my cheek. “You silly sausage,” she said dreamily. “That’s not for keeping people out. It’s for keeping Thunder and Lightning in.”

Leah pulled the doors open. The comfortable, warm smells of hay and leather, sweat and dung and horses came flooding out. Somewhere in the gloom, something let out a deep snort which reverberated through my chest.

“Hello, girls!” Leah said happily. “I’ve brought you a friend of mine to meet.”

“Meet,” I said. “Meet is what she said, not eat.”

Two pegasi mares walked forward out of the dimness of the barn. They were big beasts, about the size of a Clydesdale, but without a superfluous ounce of fat on them. Everything about the animals radiated speed, agility, and honed reflex.

They were a pearlescent silver gray color; the shade of a river at night under the light of a full moon. Feathered wings were folded, a slightly darker gray against their coats. Dark and foreboding eyes gleamed out of heads that were probably a little more pointed and streamlined than those of regular horses. They were eyes that spoke every language under this sun and all other suns and what they said was this: don’t try and fuck with us, mortal.

“Pleased to meet you,” I said to the two silent pegasi.

Some people might have thought it odd that I was engaging two four-legged beasts in conversation, but those would be people who had never looked into the eyes of a pegasus and seen the deep reservoir of intelligence in there.

These animals knew exactly what I was saying.

The pegasi didn’t reply.

“Uh, which one of you is Thunder?” I asked, not really sure what else I could say.

The animal standing on Leah’s right, who was nuzzling at the pink-haired woman’s neck, raised one dinner plate-sized hoof and stamped twice.

I nodded. “All right,” I said, turning to the other pegasus, “then you must be Lightning.”

The other animal thudded a hoof twice onto the ground too. I raised my hand toward Lightning’s nose, and the big creature moved its aquiline head toward me cautiously.

“It’s good that you’re treating them like you would any other intelligent creature,” Leah said to me. She was patting Thunder’s cheek and stroking her neck.

“I’m not really a big one on animals,” I said. “But I think I’m perceptive enough to know that these girls are not to be trifled with.”

Lightning nickered softly and bowed her head. It was a little disconcerting to hear how close that soft whinny came to a chuckle.

“You’re right on that score,” Leah said. “We had a little incident last year when one of our guests came out here, bad-mouthing Thunder and Lightning, calling these sweet girls old nags and whatnot.”

“Can’t imagine they put up with that.” I ran a hand down one of Lightning’s smooth flanks.

Leah pointed over to where a stable door leant against a