Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted - Chapter 252

Chapter 252: Ava: We Need Information
“Perhaps that is true for some vampires,” Magister Orion concedes. “But for most of us, it is because of freedom. We do not wish to be regulated and numbered, at the whim of human demands, simply for being different. Those who breach the peace between the human world and that of Dakota Sanctuary are punished. Depending on the severity of their actions, some lose their lives. We have had some vampires put to the guillotine for feeding on nearby human cities.”

Fascinating.

“But what does that have to do with you?” I ask, circling back to the main topic.

“I am one of the few who advocate for increased trade and visitation between our city and the human realm.” Magister Orion waves a hand around the room. “Very few of us wish to live within the Fae realm, under the rule of our kings. There is little freedom to be had under their tyranny. Here, we have equality, votes, and laws to protect us from the overreach of our leaders. Vampires and gnomes are treated as equals. However, our reliance on the Fae realm for food and magical items means that we are at the mercy of the Fae kings. Our freedom here is little more than an illusion.”

He slams a fist against the table. “I say, if we truly wish for freedom, we should establish connects with the human realm. We have things you do not. We can barter for food, even more land. We can be equals in this world, instead of living half in, and half out.”

He sighs. “But that is heresy to many.”

“Then why do you hate wolves so much, if you’re willing to work with humans?” Vanessa asks, and I glance at her in surprise.

She’s fascinated by everything he’s saying, and I’d already forgotten about how he treated Vanessa and Marcus when we first got here.

“Lycans,” and his lip curls before he shakes his head and sighs. “Ancient history, but prejudice is passed down in our history books.”

“But what happened between wolves and Fae?”

Magister Orion waves a hand. “It is of little import in this situation. Suffice to say, very few Fae or vampires willingly work with the wolf packs. In our world, they’re traitors, giving up their freedom to work as human dogs.”

He pauses for a second, glancing between Vanessa and Marcus. “No offense intended.”

“So the leaders of the city are all against your views?” Marcus asks.

“Indeed. I am a rebel with a cause.” He spreads his hands with a shrug. “However, to call them my enemies is a bit of a stretch.”

“Who have been the victims of the riots?” I ask, rubbing the bridge of my nose as I try to think. “Wouldn’t they be the leaders of the city? If that’s so, then they’re probably not who we’re looking for.”

Magister Orion looks thoughtful. “Some families, yes. But that doesn’t mean all of them. I would need to contact someone to find out more.”

Tinker, who’s been quiet all this time, speaks up. “I can contact Layla and see if she’s heard anything.”

He nods, a sharp movement of his head. “Yes. Get a list of every attack, and lists of victims. We must organize the information we have. And see what Florice has been working on lately.”

“Yes, sir!” Tinker salutes, her mechanical wings slapping together, before she darts off.

It’s like a giant puzzle without a reference picture. My head aches.

A wave of dizziness washes over me, and I have to grip the arms of the chair to stay upright.

Vanessa places a cool hand on my forehead. “Your fever’s getting worse,” she murmurs. “We need to get another dose of suppressant into you.”

The reminder of my impending heat adds another layer of complication to an already impossible situation. I feel tears of frustration prick at my eyes, but I blink them away.

I don’t have the luxury of being weak.

“Magister,” Marcus says, his voice steady despite the tension in his shoulders, “do you have any way to contact the outside world safely? We need contact Sister Miriam and Selene, see what they know. With the city up in arms, coming back might not be easy. If it were up to me, I’d lock down your portals.”

Magister Orion frowns. “Usually, no. But with Sister Miriam, it’s possible. I can’t guarantee how quickly we will get a response, but I’ll post a message.”

“Post a message?” I ask, my brain immediately jumping to the internet and message boards.

“Indeed.” He smiles. “How do you think we send messages without your,” and he waves vaguely toward my phone, “little devices? We have our own.”

* * *

We have cell phones—outrageously expensive, easy to break, and needing to be upgraded every few years for fear of becoming obsolete in the face of bigger and better software.

The Fae?

They have magic balls.

The kind you think of a quack fortune teller using.

Only, these are actually made of magic.

“How fascinating,” Vanessa breathes, touching it with one finger. It looks like lightning dancing in its depths, and a ribbon of it reaches out to where her finger touches the glass.

“Does it hurt?” I ask curiously.

“No. Can’t even feel it.” She places her entire palm on it, and several arcs of lightning connect to where she has contact. “Feels like just a glass ball.”

Magister Orion takes the ball from Vanessa, and I watch in fascination as the lightning inside disappears, replaced by swirling gray smoke. It’s mesmerizing, like watching storm clouds gather in fast motion.

He stares intently into the ball, his eyes narrowing in concentration. The smoke begins to swirl faster, condensing into a tiny orb before vanishing completely. My breath catches as a miniature version of Sister Miriam materializes within the glass sphere.

“Wow,” I murmur, unable to contain my awe.

Magister Orion’s deep voice resonates as he addresses the tiny figure. “Sister Miriam, the city is in unrest. Contact me once you receive this message. We need more information.”

The tiny Sister Miriam doesn’t respond, but I find myself leaning forward, half-expecting her to speak. Instead, her image fades away like mist in sunlight, and the familiar dance of lightning returns to fill the ball.

My mind reels with questions. How does it work? Can Sister Miriam respond the same way? Is it instantaneous or does it take time for the message to reach her? The practical applications of such a device are staggering.

“That’s incredible,” I breathe, my eyes still fixed on the ball. “Is it like a magical voicemail?”

“Voicemail? Ah, your telephonic messages.” Magister Orion chuckles, the sound rumbling through the room. “In a way, yes. Though far more secure and almost impossible to intercept.”

I tear my gaze away from the ball to look at him. “Can she respond the same way?”

“Indeed she can.” He pats the ball. “It will let me know when her message arrives.”

“Could we use it to contact Lucas?” The words tumble out before I can stop them, hope rising in my chest.

Magister Orion’s expression softens slightly. “I’m afraid not, child. He would need one for the contact to take.”

My heart sinks, but I nod in understanding. Of course it couldn’t be that easy. Even magic has its rules.

“How long does it usually take for a response?” Vanessa asks, her practical nature shining through.

“It varies,” Magister Orion replies. “Depending on where Sister Miriam is and what she’s doing, it could be minutes or hours.”

I sway slightly on my feet, the excitement of the moment giving way to exhaustion. Marcus steadies me with a hand on my elbow, concern etched on his face.