Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted - Chapter 267

Chapter 267: Lisa: Waking to War
A tiny hand shakes me awake with incongruous force, something I’d attribute to King Kong and not the gnomes who’ve been sheltering me and teaching me about magitech since my escape.

Groaning, I pull my blanket over my head. I’m too tired. “Go away.”

“Wake, wake, lazy girl! The war has come!”

The wizened old housekeeper—it has to be her, because no one else treats me like an unruly pig—yanks my covers off and slaps at my legs. “Hurry up, or die here alone!”

War?

Die?

My brain isn’t functioning yet, but I stumble out of bed as she throws some clothes at me. “Dress! Hurry! Boots too!” Those are tossed at my feet, bruising my pinky toe in a way that has me hissing and hopping on one foot. “No time, you lazy girl! Get moving!”

Uncertain of what’s going on but recognizing that her anxiety level is sky high, I throw on a clean shirt and jeans that they must have sourced from humans. Too bad they didn’t bring a bra, too.

But at least there’s socks.

Shoving my feet into them, the gnarled woman shoves at me until I fall onto my ass on the bed. “Put this on,” she snaps, throwing a coat at me.

“Okay, okay. Hold on. You haven’t even explained what’s happening!”

“War!” she snaps. “Hurry!”

Despite her gruff demeanor, she kneels to shove my boots on as I shrug on the coat, two sizes too big and—I double check what I’m feeling strapped in some hidden pockets—armed. With knives.

In fact, they seem to fit the term dagger more than knife.

“Let’s go. Hurry, hurry. The Grand Sage is waiting.”

The Grand Sage is the old man who’s taken me under his wing and owns this place. He’s some sort of high-falutin’ to-do in the gnome community. They don’t explain a lot, but it’s what I’ve gathered over time.

Mainly from this gnome—Elverly is her name, but I’m not allowed to call her that. No, it’s always Mistress Keeper.

I don’t think that’s a real title, but it’s definitely what she enjoys being called.

“Mistress Keeper, I don’t—”

“If you don’t understand, then shut your face,” she hisses. “This isn’t the time for questions. Let’s go.”

I bite my tongue, swallowing the questions bubbling up inside me. Even I’m not brave—or stupid—enough to challenge Elverly. That tiny terror has no qualms about doling out pain to keep me in line. So I follow her silently through the dark building, my feet now sure on the once-confusing paths.

The labyrinth of corridors no longer bewilders me. After perusing a map for hours on end, I the layout etched into my mind.

Not that it’s any sort of comfort at the moment, as I’m dragged through the halls in the middle of the night with hardly an explanation.

A deafening boom shakes the entire structure. The floor bucks beneath my feet, and I stumble, my heart leaping into my throat. Elverly’s iron grip closes around my arm, yanking me upright with surprising strength.

“Hurry!” she barks, her gravelly voice laced with urgency.

We break into a run, my longer legs having to put in a surprising amount of effort to keep pace with her rapid, shuffling gait.

There are shouts and screams, the kind that chill your blood and raise the hairs on the back of your neck.

War.

Elverly’s earlier words echo in my head, taking on a horrifying new meaning. I’d thought she meant some sort of far-off conflict, a theoretical threat that brought changes to the plan.

Not a war here.

Not a war now.

The reality of our situation slams into me as we careen down a flight of stairs. The basement. We’re heading to the basement, where the Grand Sage awaits.

His wizened face is grim as we burst into the room. Without a word, he ushers us toward what he calls the “safe room.” The door swings open, revealing a space crammed with gadgets and gizmos I can’t even begin to identify.

“Quickly,” he urges, his usual calm demeanor cracking under the strain.

We pile in, and he locks the door behind us. The room comes alive, whirring and clicking. Panels shift, mechanisms engage, and the space around us shrinks. It’s like being inside a giant, mechanical Rubik’s cube as it solves itself.

When it finally stops, we’re left in a space so cramped I can barely sit. Standing is out of the question, and moving? Forget about it. I’m wedged between Elverly and the Grand Sage, my knees drawn up to my chest.

The air feels thick and heavy as we all breathe into this tiny space, sharing the mingled scents of oil, metal, and fear. I struggle to control my breathing, trying not to give in to the claustrophobia clawing at the edges of my mind.

That’s a new thing, ever since my escape. I don’t like being confined.

“What’s happening?” I whisper, unable to keep silent any longer.

The Grand Sage sighs, a sound filled with weariness and resignation. “War has come to our doorstep, child. Those unhappy with their lot have sought to overturn the world, seeking death and reform.”

“But who—”

Elverly cuts me off with a sharp hiss. “Quiet!”

The Grand Sage’s wrinkled hand reaches out, patting Elverly’s gnarled fingers. His touch seems to calm her, if only for a moment. Then he turns his attention to a panel of buttons I hadn’t noticed before. His fingers dance across them with practiced ease, and suddenly, the world shifts.

A deep, resonant rumble fills the cramped space. It vibrates through the metal walls, through the floor, and right into my bones. My stomach lurches, twisting in that familiar way it does when an elevator starts moving too fast. But this… this is different. It’s not just up or down. It’s like we’re defying gravity itself.

“What’s happening?” I gasp, trying to keep the panic from my voice.

The Grand Sage’s eyes meet mine, calm despite the chaos. “We’re headed to a safe haven, child. Away from the fighting.”

My mind reels. Safe haven? Away? But what about…

“Your work!” I blurt out. “All those gadgets, the magitech you’ve been teaching me. Are we just… leaving it all behind?”

A small smile tugs at the corner of the Grand Sage’s mouth. “Fear not, Lisa. All the important work is with us.”

I blink, confused. Then it hits me. Before this room became our cramped refuge, it had been packed to the brim with… well, everything. Gadgets, books, materials I couldn’t even name. When it rearranged itself, I’d assumed it was just making space for us. But what if…

“Did you… pack everything into the walls?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

The Grand Sage nods, a hint of pride in his eyes. “Dimensional compression. One of our more useful innovations.”

My mind struggles to wrap itself around the concept. It’s like something out of a sci-fi movie, and yet, after everything I’ve seen in the past weeks, it somehow makes perfect sense.

But there’s still one thing I can’t figure out. “How are we going anywhere? We’re in a tiny room in the basement of—”

Elverly’s patience, already worn thin, finally snaps. “We’re flying, you stupid child!” she hisses, her eyes narrowed in frustration.