“Why did he come to the hospital last night?”
“It’s a long story. Here, have some more.” Celesta dumped another pile of the steaming mushrooms on his leaf.
“I don’t seem to have anywhere else to go at the moment,” he answered blandly. The flames were a little too much in the warm spring air, and he pulled off his jacket. Alex folded it neatly beside him, taking extra care to ensure that the harmonica inside the pocket did not accidentally fall out.
When he looked back up, Celesta was staring at him with wide eyes.
“What?” The question came out with a little more bite than he intended.
“You’re just so…so…big. I mean, strong. Muscle-y?” She tore her eyes away from his torso and met his gaze with a pink blush spreading all the way to the tips of her pointed ears.
Alex looked down at his shirt. It was a standard hospital issue, which meant the sleeves were cut off mid-bicep in order to allow easy access to the arm veins. The neck was loose and open in case it needed to be pulled off quickly. It was also white, which he still maintained was a ridiculous choice of color. But none of that explained her strange reaction. He was no different than the rest of the men in his regiment.
“I’m a soldier.”
“Well, yes. It’s only that fae warriors tend to rely more on magic than actual physical prowess when it comes to fighting, and so are a lot less...” She wordlessly circled her hand, gesturing to his whole body. Her cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of pink.
He felt just as uncomfortable with the current topic of conversation and latched onto the information that would steer them in another direction. “Even though I saw them using weapons?”
“They use weapons, but fae are trained for accuracy and precision. Speed and strength are enhanced through magic, so it’s more important that they have control than power.”
Alex compared her words with what he had witnessed the night before. “Is that why you had musicians?”
Celesta tilted her head curiously. “Is that not common in the mortal realm?”
“Not to bring them along to a battlefield. How would they defend themselves?”
“But you carry an instrument with you.”
“I certainly don’t stop in the middle of a fight to play. I would be shot down before I could make it through the first phrase. Besides, what would be the point?”
“Surely even humans can understand the power of music to strengthen the weary spirit? To give courage when hope and hearts are failing? To rally soldiers to arms with an expression of unity?”
“We know it can do those things; it still doesn’t mean we’ll bring along a bunch of violinists to a battle.”
She regarded him thoughtfully. “I forget that in your realm the magic works differently.”
He looked at her with a frown. “Magic isn’t real.”
“Of course it is. Haven’t you ever noticed how music can transport you to a different place or time? Or how it can evoke thoughts or emotions? Or the way that it can affect an entire room of people with just a few moments of sound?” Her face brightened as she spoke, and her eyes took on a dreamy, far-off look.
“That’s not magic. That’s just music.”
“Music is magic.”
Alex gave a skeptical snort. “That seems incredibly dangerous.”
“What do you mean? Why would it be dangerous?”
“You’re saying that anyone with access to a musical instrument can use magic? What about a child learning to play the violin? What if they accidentally curse someone?”
Celesta giggled as she popped one of the mushrooms into her mouth. “That would be frightening. But playing an instrument alone does not create magic. It takes the right combination of passion and skill, which generally only comes from years of practice and study. Someone can be technically proficient and yet still fail to makemusic. I’m sure you’ve heard someone who can play notes and rhythms perfectly and yet their performances lack emotion and life. They’re making musical sounds, but there’s no magic in it.”
He rubbed his hands over his tired eyes, noting absently that the fingers of his left hand were a little stiff. Yesterday morning he would have written her off as delusional–perhaps overly poetic at best. But given the current situation, he found himself necessarily having to suspend disbelief. “You said you and the mouse king–”
“Mouse king?” she interrupted with a snort and giggle.
“Well, I don’t know what else to call him, and he had a mouse on his shield,” Alex defended himself with a huff of annoyance.
