Filed to story: Tangled in Moonlight Unshifted Novel by Lenaleia
Grimoire makes a disgruntled noise in my head. It’s my fault. I should have monitored you better. Your body isn’t used to the amount of magic you’re handling daily.
He’s been self-flagellating in my head since I almost keeled over.
“What does that mean?”
“It means we need to be more careful. Monitor you more closely.” Vanessa pulls out a small notebook. “I want you tracking everything. Water intake, food, how many purifications you perform, how you feel afterward.”
“That seems excessive.”
“What seems excessive is finding you barely conscious after pushing yourself to the brink.” She scribbles something in her notes. “You’re not just dealing with magic here, Ava. This is your life we’re talking about.”
The truth in her words stings. “I can’t just stop. The taint is spreading.”
“No one’s asking you to stop. We’re asking you to pace yourself.” She looks up from her notes. “What good are you to anyone if you work yourself into a collapse?”
I hate that she’s right. The room spins slightly as I shift position, proving her point. “How long until I can get back out there?”
“At least twenty-four hours.” She holds up a hand before I can protest. “Non-negotiable. Your body needs time to recover.”
The fluid slowly drips into my arm, each drop a reminder of my limitations. Outside, I hear the bustle of pack life continuing without me. Voices carry through the window, wolves going about their duties while I’m stuck here in bed.
“I know it’s frustrating,” Vanessa says, her voice gentler now. “But you’re not helping anyone by running yourself into the ground.”
Blowing out a long sigh, I can only say, “I know.” It isn’t that I disagree with her, or think she’s wrong. I know she’s right.
But with the taint spreading every day, being the only one able to deal with it—how am I supposed to pace myself, when I’m already behind?
It feels like an impossible situation.
The mattress dips as Selene leaps onto the bed, her weight settling across my legs. The extra warmth is a welcome; even with the wood stove stoked high and the relatively comfortable temperature, I’m fighting chills.
I couldn’t even sense anything was wrong. One moment you were fine, the next— She presses her cold nose against my hand. You just dropped.
“I’m fine now.” My fingers sink into her thick ruff, seeking comfort as much as giving it.
You’re not fine.
Grimoire sighs. She pulled too much magic for that last purification. But it wouldn’t have been an issue if she wasn’t already worn down.
“Both of you, please.” The last thing I need is them tag-teaming me with guilt. “I get it. I’ll take care of myself.”
Vanessa makes another note in her book, and something about her movement catches my attention. There’s a subtle difference in how she holds herself, a softness to her usual precise motions. My eyes narrow as I study her more carefully.
Her scrubs hang differently on her frame. The way she keeps one hand near her middle when she moves. The slight flush in her cheeks that I’d attributed to the warmth of the room.
“Ava?” Vanessa pauses mid-note. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I shake my head, still watching her. “You just seem… different.”
Her pen stills against the paper. “Different how?”
“I’m not sure.” But I am sure. Something’s changed about her energy, like a second pulse beneath her own. “You move differently.”
Vanessa’s eyes widen slightly before she schools her expression. “Focus on yourself right now. You’re the patient here.”
She’s right, Selene says, but her head tilts as she studies Vanessa. Though now that you mention it…
Grimoire even perks up. Oh. Well, that’s interesting.
“What is it, Grimoire?”
“Nothing that concerns you right now.” She tucks her notebook away with deliberate movements. “How’s the dizziness?”
But now I can’t unsee it—the subtle changes in her demeanor, the way her scent has shifted ever so slightly, even though I’m not as sensitive to smell as others. Something about her reminds me of the pregnant she-wolves in the pack, that same gentle glow about them.
Oh.
Oh.
My mouth drops open, but Vanessa points her pen at me in warning. “Don’t. Whatever you’re thinking, don’t say it. Focus on getting better.”
I close my mouth obediently.
LISA
I am a precision instrument.
Or, well, my wrist brace is.
Okay—the word precision might be stretching it a bit. If I’m within fifty yards of my target, I might be able to get a single hit off in a real fight.
But the real point here is, if I hit my target, their head is going to explode. The power I hold in a single wrist brace might be getting to my head a little.
“Timber!” I shout cheerfully, though no one’s near the tree now falling.
The Grand Sage’s pen scratches across his notepad with manic energy. His white hair sticks up in every direction, like he’s been electrocuted. Which, knowing him, is entirely possible.
“Excellent work today, Lisa. The trajectory calculations are spot on.” He peers at me over his glasses. “Your aim has improved significantly, and we’ve even increased the economy of power consumption.”
Pride swells in my chest. “Thanks to your adjustments on the brace.” I flex my wrist, admiring how the metal catches the weak winter sunlight. “Though I still need to work on my stamina.”
“Nonsense.” He waves his pen at me. “The amount of magical energy required to power these devices is substantial. Your body needs time to adjust.”
“But what if I need to use it in an emergency?” The tree I felled lies in the snow, its branches spread like fallen soldiers. “I can’t ask the bad guys to wait while I catch my breath.”
“Which is precisely why we’re developing alternative power sources.” He flips through his notes. “The blood activation is merely temporary. I have some promising theories about crystalline batteries.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Crystals? Like the ones Ava uses?”
“Similar principle, different application.” He scribbles something else, muttering under his breath. “We could potentially store excess magical energy for later use.”
The concept makes my head spin. “So I wouldn’t need to use my own energy every time?”
“Precisely!” His eyes light up with that mad scientist gleam I’ve come to both love and fear. “Think of it as a magical battery pack. Pre-charged and ready for deployment. It would allow more than just a Fae-blessed owner to use this magitech.”
I rub my arms, trying to warm up. The cold has seeped through my workout clothes, and my sweat is starting to freeze. “But you’d need to use Ava’s power for that, right? She’s already stretching herself too thin.”
“In a sense, yes.”
The Grand Sage’s shoulders slump at my mention of Ava. “That girl works herself to exhaustion. No concept of pacing.”
“She’s just desperate to keep everyone safe.” My throat tightens. The memories of that party flash through my mind—blood and screams and death. Bodies of wolves who died protecting us. Protecting me. “She blames herself for every injury, every death. She takes her role as Luna seriously.”
I can’t blame her. There’s a silent debt on my soul, even though no one’s said a word to me about the lives Westwood lost at that ill-fated party so long ago.
“Much like someone else I know.” The Grand Sage’s keen eyes pierce through me.
I busy myself with adjusting my brace. “At least I’m doing something useful now. These weapons you’re creating could save lives.”
“Well, never you fear. I have no interest in adding to your burdens.” He shuffles through his papers with renewed vigor. “I’ve been developing a theory about creating a magic siphon that would require minimal input from Ava.”
“How would that work?”
“Picture a self-sustaining magical engine.” His hands wave through the air, sketching invisible diagrams. “Once initiated with a small spark of power, it would generate its own energy through a continuous feedback loop. The applications would be revolutionary! We could power entire cities, create defensive barriers that never falter, develop weapons that—” He stops mid-gesture, his enthusiasm deflating. “Well, that’s assuming it’s even possible. Right now it’s just theoretical.”
“It still sounds incredible.” The concept of unlimited magical power makes my head spin. “Like something out of science fiction.”
“Actually…” He adjusts his glasses, peering at his notes. “According to ancient records, such technology once existed. In ancient cities, the ability to harness and perpetuate magical energy was commonplace. But like so many other wonders of the past, that knowledge was lost to time.”
I wonder if Grimoire knows anything about this.
“Tell me more about these ancient cities.” Entertaining myself by puffing out clouds of my breath, I keep pace with the trudging elderly gnome as we head back to Wolf’s Landing. My bodyguards follow behind, as usual. “Where were they supposed to be?”