Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted novel Chapter 347

LISA

"Sorry!"

My voice carries across the clearing, and three shifters wave their hands over their heads in my direction. It could be to say everything’s fine. Or maybe they’re cursing me and want me to die.

Can’t really blame them. They almost got blasted with a ball of fire that went rogue.

"Much farther range than expected," the Grand Sage muses, completely nonplussed by the near-accident.

The strange metal brace on my wrist glints in the sunlight. It looks more like a prop from a sci-fi movie than a magical weapon. "Are you sure this is safe enough to test? I nearly turned three wolves into barbecue."

The Grand Sage, lost in thought, mumbles, "Wolves aren’t traditionally cannibals." _{fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com}

"I don’t think that’s the point." Sometimes I wonder if his genius comes with a side of selective hearing. He’s always lost in his head.

He snaps back to attention. "Tell me again, what did you feel at the time of activation?"

I take a deep breath, trying to put the sensation into words. "It was like... a surge of uncontrollable power. Like using a chihuahua’s leash on a mastiff."

The gnome’s fuzzy white eyebrows wiggle together, like two caterpillars turning into one. "I’m not familiar with your words."

"Right, sorry." I hold my hands about a foot apart. "Chihuahua, tiny dog." Then I spread my arms wide. "Mastiff, huge dog. The leash is way too small to control it."

He nods thoughtfully. "Ah, I see. Remember, you shouldn’t expect full control of the magic, just the ability to influence it."

"Influence?" I scoff. "I nearly influenced it into killing innocent people."

The Grand Sage waves his hand dismissively. "They should have stayed behind you." He turns and shouts to the three wolves, "Stay behind her at all times!"

The men, who are actually my almost ill-fated bodyguards, adjust their positions with perfectly straight faces. I can’t tell if they’re amused or annoyed; just before this incident, the gnome had told them they were perfectly safe where they stood.

"Now," my obsessive magitech inventor says, rubbing his hands together, "let’s try again. This time, focus on directing the energy rather than containing it."

"Okay, but if I accidentally set the forest on fire, you’re explaining it to Ava."

He chuckles. "Deal. Now, concentrate on the brace. You should feel some sort of magic when it activates."

When I flip the switch on, it hums with energy, like a low level of electricity against my skin. It’s uncomfortable.

"I feel it," I murmur.

"Good. Now, send your commands down. Remember to use your words. It will only work with the proper vocal commands."

The brace on my wrist feels alien, yet strangely intimate. The Grand Sage explained that it’s attuned to me through my blood, but the specifics are lost on me. Magic and technology blend in ways I can’t begin to comprehend. All I know is that a part of me is now tied to this device, for better or worse.

"Standby," I command, my voice steady despite my nerves.

The brace hums to life, warming against my skin. It’s not painful, but definitely uncomfortable—like wearing a heating pad cranked up too high.

"Good," the Grand Sage nods approvingly. "Now, aim for that tree again." He points to a massive oak a hundred yards away, well to the left of where my bodyguards had their near-death experience earlier.

I extend my arm, squinting as I try to line up the thin metal strip running along the brace with my target. It’s not exactly precision equipment, but I do my best.

"Shape," I say clearly, remembering the proper command.

"Visualize it," the Grand Sage reminds me, his voice eager. "Picture exactly what you want to create."

I close my eyes for a moment, imagining a sleek, deadly arrow. Opening them, I take a deep breath and give the final command:

"Fire."