Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted

The Grand Sage peers at my watch through his magnifying glass. "Fascinating. The enchantment remains intact, yet something blocks the signal."

My fingers trace the edge of the crystal. The metal feels cold against my skin, devoid of its usual magical warmth. "Could the New Order have developed technology to interfere?" I ask, though it isn't like they even know about this new technology.

"It's always possible." Magister Orion's deep voice fills the room; he's here while Heize takes over guarding the dream-eater. "Their influence grows stronger each day."

Several shifters pass through the window, trudging east. More people heading out to help with the funeral pyres. Twenty-seven pyres. Each face flashes through my mind—mothers, fathers, children. Their families were grateful for my visit, thanking me for coming.

It's a sobering experience.

"Are you certain about holding the ceremony so far from Wolf's Landing?" The pyres are set a mile away.

Kellan's steady gaze meets mine. "The perimeter is secure. We have guards posted every hundred feet between here and the pyres."

My mind does the calculation and fails. How many feet are in a mile? A lot. "That's a lot of guards. Do we have enough?"

"The location is within our safe zone, Luna." His voice is soft. "We can't risk setting fire to the camp."

True. And the smoke. But my heart still hurts at our loss. "Okay."

I press my palm against the window glass. The sky is pristine and free of clouds; it's late in the day, when the sunlight fades into the vibrant oranges and reds of its golden hour. Everything's happened so quickly in the span of a single day. The attack, our victory, finding Magister and the Fae who follow him, even a nap...

"Lucas should be here. Maybe we should delay it." Not being able to contact him is driving me crazy.

"He's fine, Ava." Kellan seems to have developed a mind-reading ability, because I didn't say anything about my worry. Maybe it's all over my face. "Lucas knows how to handle himself."

"I know, I know." It isn't like I've ever been the one to save him, but it's still hard to have no update. "I wish they took their phones."

Not only are we not used to having phone service again—we're not convinced they aren't being tracked. Mine is turned off and has been for a while, but now I regret our paranoia. We relied on our watches, instead.

But the pack needs their Luna present and composed, not fretting over things beyond her control. I straighten my spine and turn back to the Grand Sage, who's still tinkering away. "What about using some sort of Fae magic to boost the signal?" Maybe with the Magister here…

The Grand Sage looks up with a sigh. "Ava, if the receiver isn't here to calibrate, how are we supposed to expect it to adapt to a change of circumstances?"

Right. Stupid idea.

"As for the rites," Kellan says, his tone practical as he changes the subject back, "the sooner we conduct them, the better. While the dream-eater remains unconscious."

If we wait too long and the dream-eater wakes up… That could be a nightmare.

Still staring out the window, watching the backs of those still headed to arrange the rites, I mutter, "Maybe we should just kill them now that we know what they are. Get rid of one problem before the ceremony."

"I agree. There's no reason to keep something so dangerous alive." Kellan's agreement is so swift, it's obvious he's been wanting this from the moment I brought the dream-eater back.

"It won't work." Magister Orion's facts break Kellan's heart in an instant. "Even if you drive a blade through its heart or separate its head from its body, the dream-eater will survive."

My stomach turns. "What?"

"Dream-eaters aren't truly alive in the conventional sense. They exist between life and death, sustained by magic and the essence they consume. Traditional methods of execution are meaningless against such an abomination."

"But they've disappeared, which means there's a way to get rid of them. Right?" I glance at Kellan, who's frowning now.

"There are ways to destroy it," my teacher agrees. "But they require specific circumstances and preparations we currently lack."

The weight of my silver bracelet suddenly feels heavier on my arm; it saved me, but it isn't enough to destroy the dream-eater. And I don't have any magic like it. "Like what?"

Kellan crosses his arms. "Then what do you suggest we do with it?"

Magister Orion's massive shoulders slump. "If I had access to my books again, I could give you a better answer. The methods of destroying dream-eaters are complex and require specific ingredients."

A metallic whirring sound comes from beneath the Grand Sage's table. Tinker pokes her head out; she's been on her belly down there, fiddling with some whatchamacallits. "And we don't have any dragons. Dragons would be useful right about now."

"Dragons?" My brows fly up. "Like, real ones?"

"Of course they're real." Tinker's lilac eyes sparkle with mischief. "Their fire burns through anything—even dream-eaters."

"Dragons haven't been seen in millennia," Magister Orion says with a sigh. "Enough, Tinker."

It hasn't been that long, Grimoire muses.

Wait. Really?

Maybe eight hundred years, though.

Wow. Dragons being real is a new one. I thought I couldn't be surprised anymore.

Kellan's voice cuts through my dragon-filled imagination. "We need practical solutions."

"Dragon fire is practical." Tinker dives back under the table, her wings whirring and clicking. "Just hard to obtain."

The Grand Sage sets down his magnifying glass. "Tinker, my dear, I don't believe we have time for such an ambitious project."

True. It would take a lifetime to hunt a dragon—multiple lifetimes for a human.

Selene snorts. Give me a scent and I could find them in a day.

Her arrogance knows no bounds.

You don't have wings, Grimoire points out.

A true hunter makes do with what paws and claws are at their disposal.

"But—" Tinker says from under the table, sounding suspiciously similar to a whine.

"No." Magister Orion's tone is harder than I've ever heard him speak to his servants. "No dragons, Tinker."

Her resulting grumble sounds a little like she's saying Fine, be that way, which must be how the large Fae takes it—he rubs his eyebrows with a sigh, smiling when he notices me watching.

"Tinker has a moderate obsession with dragons. They're her favorite research subject."

Ah.

"They usually are, for the young," the Grand Sage agrees, his attention back on the watch in front of him.

My fingers trace the silver bracelet on my wrist. "So, dragons are out. But what about this? It hurt the dream-eater before."

"It wounded the creature, yes." Magister Orion strokes his beard as he leans forward to squint at it. "But that's far from destroying it. The bracelet's power is meant to protect, not destroy."

Tinker pops her head back out, her wide eyes almost maniacal as words roll out of her like a tidal wave of excitement. "We could modify it! Add some explosive runes, maybe a touch of—"

"Absolutely not." The Grand Sage and Magister Orion speak in perfect unison.

Kellan seems surprised. "Why not? If it's possible, adding anything to Ava's arsenal sounds like—"

"No," the Grand Sage says, without expanding.

The beta blinks, and Magister Orion sighs. "When you add offensive magic to an inherently defensive artifact, things tend to go awry. If you want your Luna's arms and legs intact, I suggest leaving it as is."