Page 25 of Must Love Scones and Secrets
We were getting close when Faelor raised a hand to slow our pace. We dismounted, walked our horses to the crest of the hill, and looked out.
Faelor undid the lead on the mare, and she and her foal headed off.
Below us, nestled beside a glittering pond, was a small cabin. But beyond the cabin, a herd of about twenty unicorns roamed the field. The mare and her little one trotted to rejoin them.
I suppressed a gasp when I looked out on the scene.
The magic was wild.
Clouds like sparkling rainbows hovered over one patch of the field. A dark cloud with glowing veins of lightning drifted ominously across another. A whirlwind, no higher than a man, spun across the grass. In one area, honeybloom violets—a favorite of all unicorns—stretched as far as the eye could see.
Sparks. Bolts. Whispers of incandescent glow. The whole field shimmered with energy.
“Can you cast protection enchantments, Mister Runeson?” Faelor asked.
“My mother never let me go far without at least one protection charm…or twelve. One of the benefits of an overprotective mother.”
Faelor chuckled. “You’re going to need them. This is the most magic I’ve seen stirred up in these fields. Be careful. There’s a message box in the cabin. Send notes as needed. And don’t worry, Elder Thornberry’s homeland is enchanted. If you’re badly hurt, the land itself will send an alarm. But let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“Indeed.”
“I do hope you can solve this. We’re all worried about what this might mean for Moonshine Hollow. If this spreads or begins to affect other magical folk…”
He didn’t finish. He didn’t have to. Moonshine Hollow was a magical place. If the illness spread beyond unicorns to people like him or Rosalyn…
“I will do my best. I swear it.”
Beside me, Smoke barked at a sudden glimmer. Three phantom unicorns broke from the herd and charged toward us.My horse stamped and tossed his head nervously, but by the time the ethereal beasts reached us, they simply dissolved into glitter, whisked away by the wind.
I had my work cut out for me.
And for the first time, I honestly wondered if I knew enough.
Because if I didn’t, this wouldn’t be a magical retreat.
It was going to be a tragedy.
CHAPTER 9
ROSALYN
There was nothing I enjoyed more than book club. It was the highlight of every month, and I’d made the selection this month. I was a sucker for a romantic classic. While everyone knew the novelCrown and Crumpets, which featured haughty Lord Thornberry and the object of his affectionanddisdain, Miss Beth, whose family had grown to wealth from a thriving crumpet empire, it was my favorite book—ever. I was excited to have a chance to see what new perspectives the others brought.
Primrose, Emmalyn, Juniper, Tansy, Winifred, and I made our way up the creaky spiral staircase to the talking loft at Sir Reginald Hootington’s Magical Bookery for our monthly book club gathering. Portia, the owner, was already there adjusting chairs. Sir Reginald’s was one of my favorite spots in Moonshine Hollow. The loft sat by a tall window looking down on the street below. From the loft, we had a good view of the oak at the center of town. Patrons browsed books in the shop below us, many of the tomes wiggling with excitement as potential buyers passed. At the same time, an enchanted piano played softly in one corner. The place was serene.
Enchanted feather dusters cleared off our seats as Portia readied the place. Sparkles rose off the book spines on the shelves nearby, attempting to entice us to peruse the tomes. We settled into our favorite spots. Portia used her magic to distribute teacups, which clinked cheerfully as they hopped onto saucers. In the corner, nestled in a carved wooden box, was the shop’s guardian owl, Sir Hootington, who dozed with one eye half-open. His midnight-blue feathers shifted, making flecks of silver on his wings glimmer like stars. A tiny wisp of blue smoke curled from his beak when he exhaled a soft snore.
Portia Wordsworth, our friend, and the bookstore owner, lifted her copy ofCrown and Crumpets. Ever the sophisticated reader, her nose wrinkled as she looked at the book.
“Well,” Primrose said, pulling her copy from a basket, “what did everyone think?”
“Loved it,” Tansy, a newcomer to our group, said. “It’s a classic love story. He was stiff, cold, and used to being on his own. She was loud and cheerful, just the remedy he needed.”
I grinned at her, clinging to my well-worn copy of the novel.
“I agree,” Primrose said. “I loved the subtlety of the romance. They detest one another for so long that it becomes obvious to everyone but them that they’re madly in love,” she said with a wistful sigh. “What did you think, Portia?”
“Well,” Portia began, giving me an apologetic look.
