by Allie Burton
Confusion collided similar to thunderclouds. I’d lied and I didn’t understand. “How did you know I could do that?”
I couldn’t comprehend. I’d sensed the trumpet and found its hidden location.
His gaze pierced through my skin. Knowledge, about me, seemed to solidify in his expression. He dropped his arm from around me and cradled the trumpet. “You might never have played the trumpet, but you’ve been touched by its magic.”
Might never have played? His doubt slugged. He didn’t believe me. “What does that mean?”
He contemplated me, his expression shifting again. The intensity of his eyes turned into more of a blade of accusation. “Somehow the trumpet has given you residual magical powers.”
Chapter Twelve
Piper
Magical what?
Shaking my head, I tried to clear my ears. I must not be hearing correctly. “What’re you talking about? What magic?”
Math’s gaze darted toward the door. “No time for a magical-relic history tutorial. We need to get out of the mansion.”
“Agreed.” While we escaped maybe I could process what he’d said.
After flying out of the mansion, both literally and figuratively, we got in the stolen car and I finally took a breath.
“I can’t believe we found the trumpet.” With the joy of success flowing through my bloodstream, I practically sang the words. We held the Trumpet of Peace in our hands.
“We did.” He clutched the trumpet on his lap, his hands holding the instrument in a death grip.
The silver gleamed in the early morning light. The etched images on the horned end reminded me of the hieroglyphics I’d seen at the museum.
My flowing joy siphoned off, blocked by confusion and worry. I needed the trumpet to save Mom. Whose hands would ultimately hold the trumpet in triumph?
“Now what?” The words tripped off my tongue, afraid of his answer, afraid he’d dump me now he had what he wanted.
“We take the trumpet to the professor’s house.” Math probably didn’t emphasize the pronoun, even though that’s how I heard the word pronounced.
Math wanted me to stay with him. Joy burst through my veins. I knew the feeling wouldn’t last once he discovered my lies. Right now though, he wanted to be with me.
Math’s goal had always been to retrieve the trumpet. He planned to reunite the Trumpet of Peace and the Trumpet of War. He didn’t know my goal had always been to retrieve the trumpet, too. He thought I wanted a hereditary jewel—a made-up lie.
But my goal had changed.
I no longer planned to hand the trumpet to Aaron. I wanted to use the trumpet to buy mine and Mom’s freedom. So, did I steal the trumpet from Math and seal his hatred for me? Did I hang around to learn more? Or, did I confess the truth of my situation and hope he forgave me and knew how to help? Questions log-jammed in my brain.
Then, there was this whole residual-magic issue.
A quivering vibrated my spine like a loudly purring engine. “What did you mean by residual magical powers?”
He twisted in the passenger seat to study me. His narrowed glance held intensity. “You don’t fall asleep when the trumpet is played.” He circled his finger around an orb etched into the trumpet. “You can sense the trumpet’s presence.” He circled his finger around again. “And you seem to have a kinship with machines.”
Kinship? “You think I’m a robot?”
“No.” He jerked back. “You have powers over machines. Like this car.”
“Big deal. I hotwired it.” Lots of criminals could.
“What about the music machine at the coffee shop? The way the streetlights change for you?” So, he’d noticed that in the rush-hour traffic.
I always thought the light thing was weird. I’d never been stopped at a red light. “I have an affinity for machines. It’s a knack.”
His eyebrows gathered in cynicism. “Maybe I’m reading too much into what I saw. You need more analysis.”
“And how am I going to get that?” Did Math plan to hook me to a power diagnostic machine? Would he probe my brain and my soul? Could he test this magical machine power? How? The questions crossed and tangled. I couldn’t fathom the thought of possessing magic.
“Another reason to go to the professor’s house. He can help.” Math pointed his chin forward. “Turn left up there.”
Help me or help himself? I didn’t trust leaders of secret organizations, and that’s what the professor seemed to be—leader of the Soul Warriors. I’d had too much experience, been around Aaron for so long that if I did have power, he’d take advantage of it. And so would this professor.
But I didn’t have other options. If I wanted to learn more and stay with the trumpet, I needed to go with Math.
Which was why I found myself standing in front of a nondescript house in a row of houses stacked next to each other in the early morning hour. A short set of steps went up to the front door. While the other houses had garages, this house only had a blank wall.
We’d ditched the stolen car several blocks away, stole another shirt to wrap around the trumpet, and walked to the house.
Worrying about who the professor was or what his role was with the Soul Warriors should be at the top of my mind, except I was in a blur. What connection could I possibly have to the trumpet and its magic?
“This is the professor’s house.” Math took a step toward the house.
“Who is the professor? What exactly does he do for you?” Is he as controlling as Aaron?
I needed to think about the present, about what the professor would do with the trumpet. I still needed the instrument to save Mom.
“Professor York is a music professor and a friend to the Soul Warriors.” Math’s words were generic, as if he didn’t want to confide. “Since I’ve told you everything about my brothers, you should meet them.”
He spoke like this was a done deal. That he didn’t have a choice but to bring me here. That I didn’t have a choice. I was tired of not being given choices. “Is that why you were angry before we broke into the mansion? Because you shared your secrets?”
“They weren’t my secrets to share. Or not only mine.” With empathy in his voice, he grabbed my hand and tugged me up the stairs. “The Soul Warriors are a secret group.”
Just like the Magical Order of Crucis. I tripped on the top step. I wasn’t pleased with the comparison. Didn’t want to get involved with another secret organization.
“I shouldn’t have told you anything without their approval.” He held me steady. “But I think you need help. I think you have powers and will need training.”
“We need to talk first—”
Math knocked on the door.
The door swung open and a teenage girl with short, blonde hair and blue eyes stood there. “Hey, Math. Glad you found the other trumpet. We were expecting you and—” the girl’s glance slid down my body and stopped when she noticed our clasped hands “—your friend.”
Heat drenched me and my hands perspired. I didn’t know the status of my relationship with Math and I didn’t want this girl to make snap judgements. I lowered my head.
“Aria, this is Piper.” Math dropped my hand and tucked the trumpet, wrapped in another work shirt, closer. “Piper, Aria.”
My heart squeezed tight at the action and curt introduction. Did he not want this girl to see us holding hands? “Hi.”
“Come on in. The choir is here.” She opened the door wider and Math and I stepped inside.
The homey entryway welcomed and led to a lived-in front room with a flowered sofa and straight-backed chairs. Framed photos and knickknacks lined the shelves. The smell of waffles came from what must be the kitchen. The house appeared normal, except how would I know, when I’d never lived in a normal house?
“Grandfather’s in the music room.” Aria led us through the living room, up the stairs, and into a white room with large windows.
The entire time I observed her back. Her short blonde hair bobbed with
her strut. Her preppy sweater and slacks didn’t seem to fit someone who associated with ancient magic. Or with Math.
I hadn’t had a chance to get a good visual on the rest of the house. The overall impression was comfortable and homey. I liked it. Wished I could grow up in a normal house with a normal family. I was becoming more jealous of Aria and it wasn’t because of Math.
“Math and Piper are here with the Trumpet of Peace.” Aria nodded to an older man who sat on a chair near a cello.
The man wore slacks and a much-repaired sweater.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Piper.” His friendly-voice didn’t sound threatening. He ran fingers through greyish-brown hair and had the same light blue eyes as Aria.
My legs twitched and I shifted on my feet. He obviously knew about me, yet I’d known nothing about him until an hour ago. Not liking that Math had talked about me, my response was curt. “Professor.”
Letting my gaze wander, I noted a black piano sat by the window and a variety of modern musical instruments scattered around the room. I did not see Tut’s Trumpet of War.
“Is it okay if I go and help Falcon, Grandfather?” Aria stood at the doorway as if she didn’t enjoy being in the room, which was odd because this was her home.
So, the professor was Aria’s grandfather. I recognized the resemblance.
“That’s fine. Can you send Ash up?”
The professor indicated a stool. “Won’t you sit down, Piper?”
I glanced at Math, who was nodding in agreement with the professor. I perched on the edge of the stool. Was the professor going to analyze my magic? Did it hurt?
“Math, put the trumpet in a safe place.” The professor spoke in what sounded like a code.
My chest restricted and I puffed air. I’d found the trumpet and I was connected to it. The instrument should stay with me. “But…but…”
“You want the trumpet safe, don’t you Piper?” Math’s sincere expression was earnest.
I trusted him, but I didn’t even know the professor. “Of course.”
“I’ll lock it up.” Math patted the shirt covering the trumpet and started walking out of the room. “I’ll let you talk to the professor.”
A chill swept over my skin when Math left the room. He’d abandoned me with a stranger, taking the trumpet with him. The hum I’d felt the entire drive disappeared. I wanted to run after him and hunt him down, except I didn’t want to look silly to my host.
“Piper.” The Professor brought my attention to him. “Math told me he believes you have some type of residual power from the trumpet.” The professor stated it so matter-of-factly, like he believed in powers and magic.
Yet, he was a college professor. How could he believe in the unbelievable?
My mind swirled. I didn’t know what to say.
“Hey, Professor.” A hard-edged, male voice spoke from the doorway. “You needed me?”
I swung around to stare at another hot teenage guy. His dusky skin didn’t hide the deep shadows under his green eyes. His shoulders hunched, as if carrying around the muscled weight of his two arms had become a burden. His slim waist led to thick, muscular thighs visible beneath the hem of his track shorts.
The guy pounced into the room and circled around as if I was prey. “This is Math’s friend?”
Bristling at his tone, I didn’t delight in the insinuation. “Piper.”
“Ash.” He mimicked my snipey tone. “She’s the one with the connection?” He grabbed a chair and sat in it backwards, his hairy legs straddling the back.
“Yes.” In contrast, the professor’s tone was kind. “Have you ever played the Trumpet of Peace, Piper?”
My chilled skin froze. Even though his voice was soft, I was being interrogated. Math had already asked the same question and probably told the professor my answer. “No.”
“But you’ve heard the trumpet and it doesn’t affect you. You don’t fall asleep?” Ash leaned forward in the backwards chair, balancing on two wooden legs. He obviously took risks.
“No.” I crossed my arms, not liking his tone, not liking being questioned, not liking not being with Math.
Ash glared with flinting green orbs. “Your uncle owns a pawn shop and works with the Order of Crucis.”
Not a question. An accusation. I didn’t say anything, letting my resentment build, warming my skin and heating my blood to a boil. I refused to tell this jerk my secrets.
The professor flashed him a warning expression. “Do you live with your uncle?”
“No,” I answered, because Math had probably told them what I’d told him. He’d already shared my history, or at least the version I’d told him.
Ash dropped the chair onto four legs. His eyebrows hunched over his critical leer. “Who do you live with?”
Air caught in my lungs. I couldn’t tell them the truth. At least not the entire truth. “My mom.”
“Oh.” The professor’s mouth turned into a concerned frown. “Should I call her and let her know you’re okay? You’ve been out all night.”
“No.” If Mom knew what I was doing she’d tell Aaron everything. “She’s sick.”
“I’m sorry.” The professor really sounded sorry. “Do you know if she ever blew the trumpet?”
My thoughts swung around again. “Wasn’t the Trumpet of Peace in a museum in Egypt until recently?”
“Has your mother ever been to Egypt?” Ash’s spot-on question had my gaze swinging to him.
It was like he knew my personal history. “She lived there for a short time before I was born.”
My stomach curdled with caustic acid. Mom had gotten pregnant there. With me. Could that be why I had this connection to the instrument? I didn’t even know if Mom had seen the trumpet before. She never talked about that time in her life.
Ash rocked the chair back and forth, causing the acid to seesaw in my tummy as I watched. “Who is your father?”
The seesawing swung higher. My heart pinched and my head ached. I didn’t know.
The caustic acid soured, switching back to resentment. I didn’t have to sit here and answer these questions. I didn’t know who my father was and didn’t see how this was relevant. I jumped off the stool.
Unless he was Egyptian and had knowledge of the trumpet.
Chapter Thirteen
Piper
When I rushed down the stairs, Math and two other teens had cleared the living room of furniture and rolled a large workout mat across the floor.
“Piper.” Math’s shy smile pacified my resentment of being left with the professor. “It’s time to train you in Sebekkah.”
“Se-what-uh?” I stopped at the edge of the mat.
A girl with a long, brown braid raised her hands in a defensive pose. “It’s an ancient Egyptian martial art the warriors learn. I’m Olivia.” She handed me folded sweats and a T-shirt identical to what she wore. “Here are sweats for you to change into.”
“Why would I want or need to learn Seb-whatever?”
Math’s light laughter and comfortable stance showed he was happy here. “Sebekkah.”
I don’t think I’d ever been truly happy anywhere or with anyone. Except recently with Math.
Olivia pointed at a door down the hallway. “You can change in the bathroom.”
I did feel grubby after the night at the museum and the Society’s mansion. It was mid-morning and I wondered if Mom was doing okay and how angry Aaron was. I’d ignored his texts.
Following Olivia’s pointed finger, I found the bathroom, changed and washed up. I headed back to the living room.
Olivia and another handsome guy faced-off on the mat. Wearing shorts and a T-shirt, he ran forward and kicked his right leg at Olivia’s head. She blocked and sent him flying across the room.
And I mean flying. I choked back a scream.
His body hit the wall and he slumped there for a second. Hard to believe a small girl like Olivia could do that to the muscular guy. She must have powers.
I took a step
back.
“That’s Xander.” Math pointed at the guy getting back on his feet.
Xander didn’t appear to be hurt or angry. The two of them must spar every day.
“See, it comes in handy.” Olivia helped him to stand. “Especially when dealing with unruly boyfriends.” Her teasing tone got the guy to smile.
Was Olivia warning me Xander was her boyfriend or hinting Math was mine? “Really?”
“Math will show you basic defensive moves to start.” Xander put his arm around Olivia’s shoulders and tucked her to his side.
Shaking my head, I took another step back. “I don’t need to learn this.”
I didn’t have super-strength or agility. I wasn’t one of their warriors. I wasn’t their enemy, either. I didn’t know what I was to them, or what I was to Math.
Confusion shifted, similar to gears on a manual transmission. I wondered why they would teach their secrets to a complete stranger. Their magical secrets. The Soul Warriors weren’t very smart if they trusted everyone they met.
I might not think they were evil, but I didn’t trust them. The professor seemed nice enough. Ash was a jerk. I hadn’t spent enough time with Aria, Olivia, and Xander. Really, I’d just met everyone except Math. And Math…
My heart tumbled.
Math I trusted and believed. I liked him. I mean, like-liked him. And not because he was nice. He cared about me and was concerned about my welfare. The kiss we shared sparked my engine and my body purred when we were together. Which had been pretty much constantly, since we’d met only three days ago.
He stood alongside Xander and Olivia in solidarity. The Soul Warriors were close. I could see by their shared glances. A group I wasn’t part of. Sadness streamed through my veins, causing my shoulders to dip, wishing I could be part of this tight-knit group. Wishing to be part of any group.
Math pulled me toward the mat. “Sebekkah will help you focus any powers you might possess.”
Sadness switched to suspicion. This training was about learning what I could do. Which was probably nothing. I didn’t have any magic.
