The Frozen Moon: Book Two of The Living Curse series + BONUS Full Version of Book Three! (4 page)

             
“Alright, team; 1, 2, 3, break!” he yelled, mocking the arm motion for ending a team huddle.  She finished off her coffee, which she had been sipping at through the conversation, and placed the mug on a nearby table.  She had been packed for days, and only needed to grab her bag and a few other items from her room.  Nameh, on the other hand, may need help; although she didn’t have many clothes or personal items, she certainly had an array of weapons.

             
Back in their room, she and Nameh began discussing magic while they packed.

             
“So, do you think that you could conjure a cup of coffee like Wyd?” she asked.

             
“No,” Nameh began, “that’s warlock magic, mostly.  Markbearers can basically only do magic that would aid in battle somehow.”

             
“I don’t know, a cup of coffee could definitely aid me in battle.”

             
“A cup of coffee could aid you in anything.”

             
“Are we really having this discussion again?”

             
“You’re the one who brought it up, so no complaining Coffee Vampire.”

             
“That’s cute, very mature,” she said, picking up a small disc from a shelf.

             
“Be careful with that!” Nameh yelled, crossing the room to where she stood.  She took the object from her hand and lightly ran her finger against the seemingly rounded edge.  Blood welled in the small slice left in her skin, and she pressed her finger to her lips, cleaning it of the liquid.  “It’s a throwing disc,” she explained, “It has an accuracy spell to make it hit the mark every time.  I don’t use it much, though, because it cuts up your fingers pretty bad to throw it.  Maybe if I had some gloves…” she mused.  At this, she placed the disc into a small leather pouch along with a few others, and tossed it into her larger bag. 

             
“Anything else in here I shouldn’t touch for fear of death or serious injury?” The question sounded like a joke, but held a serious inquiry.

             
“Just the small metal ball over there,” she answered, indicating the window sill.  The sun glimmered off of the metallic object, but to Mira, it now looked menacing.

             
“Dare I ask why?” she said, making a playful cringe.

             
“I wouldn’t if I were you,” she answered casually.

             
“Yeah, I’ll take that as a ‘you don’t want to know’.”

             
“That’s probably for the best.  Would you grab the bow in the closet?” she asked, already retrieving the matching quiver of arrows from behind the dresser.  Mira hadn’t even known that she owned a bow.

             
“Is there a weapon that you don’t have?” she asked rhetorically.  Nameh had never respected the boundaries of a rhetorical question.

             
“I actually don’t own a spear, but that’s because I find them cumbersome and primitive,” she said matter-of-factly.  Everything else, though, I’ve pretty much got covered.”

             
“I know.  Trust me, I know,” she said with a laugh, throwing the bow in the bag to join the assortment.

             
They stood in the center of Max’s room, weighted down with gear.  Mira, she saw, had only her blue leather bag on her back and her sword on her hip.  The boys were equipped similarly, but Wyd also had an extra bag.  Nameh was not as lightly clad; like Mira, she had her sword and one bag of clothes.  Unfortunately, she also had a second bag of small weapons and the chest of larger ones.  She didn’t have a better way to bring them along, and refused to leave them behind. 

             
“What’s in the trunk?” asked Wyd with a tilt of his head.

             
“Shoes,” she answered sarcastically.

             
“I’ve never understood why girls need so many shoes,” Wyd continued, missing the sarcasm entirely.

             
“Don’t be an idiot,” she said with a sigh.  She dropped the chest to the floor with a thud and kicked the lid open.  The action had gone just as smoothly as she’d hoped, adding to the effect.  The chest was one of the few things she kept neat; there were swords strapped to the inside of the lid of different lengths and weights.  She clicked a button on the side of it and the front panel fell open, allowing a shelf within to extend.  There were six swords and ten daggers, as well as vials of poisons to dip the blades in.  In small compartments on the fold out shelf, there were buckles and charms and jewelry of all styles and materials.  Max made a move to pick up one of the necklaces, but Nameh stopped him.

             
“Don’t touch that one,” she said warningly.

             
“Why, will it kill me?” he asked.

“No, but you’ll probably regret it.”

“Really?” he asked, unconvinced.  He slowly reached his hand out with a smile, testing his boundaries. 

“Go for it, just don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said, egging him on.  He scooped up the wooden carved pendant and quickly dropped it as if he had felt a shock, which she knew he had.  Nothing changed visibly, and everyone stared, trying to determine what had happened.  Nameh laughed at their futile attempt; she would have to show them.

“What did it do?” asked Mira.

“Why don’t you ask him?” she said with a mysterious air.  Max’s expression told her that he was as clueless as the rest of the group; he opened his mouth to protest, but stopped short.  His hand flew to his throat, eyes wide.  He lowered his hand and gave a faint smile while shaking his head.

“It’s a voice trap carving,” she said amusedly.  “Talar or Wyd put it on.”   They both hesitated, not sure what to expect.  Talar stepped forward in the end, having more gall than his friend.  He pulled the twine string over his head, letting the pendant fall on his chest.  Again, nothing visible happened, but when he spoke, the magic revealed itself.

“What hap-” he began, but trailed off from surprise.  All the others stared with wide eyes; he had spoken in Max’s voice.  Finally, they broke into laughter that lasted several moments, excluding Max of course.

“That’s very ‘Little Mermaid’,” Mira commented smartly.  Nameh gave a small, appreciative laugh, but the excellent correlation was lost on the others.

“Are we done screwing around now, can we go?”  Wyd asked impatiently.

“Cool down, we’re ready,” Nameh answered in an even tone.

“Is that a racial comment?” he shot back.

“How could that possibly be a racial comment?”

“Don’t worry about him,” Talar interceded, now in his own voice after removing the necklace, “he gets testy when we ask him to do big spells.”  Nameh took the necklace from him and touched it to Max’s arm before replacing it in the chest and closing the lid.  Wyd motioned for them to come closer around him while Max sighed with relief at having his voice back.  Nameh had gotten a good deal of enjoyment from his ordeal, but began to grow a bit nervous
for the moving spell.  She had never been transported by someone else before, especially in a group as large as this, and she had trouble trusting strangers.

She pulled her bags in closer to her and put her foot up on the trunk.  Wyd began to mutter the words; hearing the Warlock’s language spoken was a comfort to her tired ears; she hadn’t slept for a moment.  A light mist with a bluish tint began to encircle the group, creating a sort of woven shield over them.  A feeling of weightlessness engulfed her suddenly, and her connection with the floor grew more and more distant until she became aware that she was no longer in the same room.  She hung for a moment in a comfortable limbo, and wondered if this warmth and comfort was what it felt like to be an infant inside a womb.

The feeling was shattered, the weight of the world crushing back down on her.  The soft light around her revealed a small lobby that was mostly deserted.  At a shabby desk with light wood panels stood a gruff looking man wearing a short sleeved shirt, and a look of distracted awareness.  A faded sign on the wall behind him read “The Corner” in faded gold lettering.  Talar approached the desk and bean talking with the clerk.  He seemed o be quite eloquent, and the man responded well to him.

He handed forward two sets of clinking keys with a smile, and returned to paperwork on the desk.  Nameh was amused that the man didn’t find it strange that five teenagers had just appeared in a puff of smoke in his lobby.  She dragged the chest upstairs with some difficulty, but refused help.  The upper floor was not any nicer than the lobby: red paint peeled from the walls and chipped trim that she assumed was once gold lined the door frames.  Random pots of dusty plastic flowers were placed on small wooden tables.

The room designated as her and Mira’s was decorated in a similar fashion.  There were two small beds with mattresses that felt as though they were stuffed with rocks or something of that nature, but it was a room, and that was all they needed.  Neither unpacked, because they didn’t have much with them, and it would have been senseless.  They each flopped down on their beds and fell asleep quickly; Nameh being especially grateful for the nap.  In her waning consciousness, she reflected on the last few days, and those she had met.  Her kinship with them was something foreign:  the feeling of belonging.  She almost laughed at the recollection of sneaking into her old room earlier that morning to rumple her sheets, retrieve clothes, and quickly steal off again.  At last, she succumbed to the gentle pull of slumber and, for once, she didn’t dream of Daniel.

             
Max awoke with a start to a sharp knocking on the door.  The knock repeated itself impatiently several times before relenting for a moment.  As he crossed the room to the door, Wyd only stirred, while Talar showed no signs of waking.  Each step was an effort; he was sore and exhausted from the night before.  He pulled open the door and was immediately drown in a sea of angry-toned questions.

             
“Did you fill one of these out?” a flustered voice asked, thrusting a white paper into his face through the threshold.  He blinked at the paper, clearing the sleep from his mind. 

             
“Um, I don’t think so.  My friend checked us in.”

             
“You have to before you can stay here.”  He didn’t like dealing with people until he was more awake.

             
“I’ll go get a pen.” He began to turn, and added, “Wait there,” as an afterthought.  He fumbled through the drawers; he knew he had put a pen in one of them the night before.  Upon finding it, he returned to the girl to take the form from her.  She had brown hair with sweeping bangs that fell down her forehead and rosy skin.  Her eyes were the palest ghost-blue that he had ever seen.  He took the form and filled it out in a hurried scrawl, making it nearly illegible.

             
“Sorry, I just get kind of freaked out when my uncle forgets to give people these.”  Her voice was pleasant and genuinely apologetic.  “If we don’t, then we could get shut down for not keeping records.”

             
“It’s fine,” he replied, handing the sheet back to her with a laborious smile.

             
“So anyway, my uncle said that you came here with a couple friends.  There’s a party tonight if you guys want to come.”  His mind clicked through the options; this
would
be a good way to get some information, and he
did
love to party.

             
“Sure, where and what time?”  Her face lit up, it didn’t seem as though she met many people her own age working in a place like this.

             
“It’s at the warehouse, can I pick you guys up at ten?”

             
“Sounds good,” he said, giving her a smile.  He wouldn’t consider how vague her information was until much, much later.  His mind was still far away, in memories of the previous night.

“Gwen, by the way,” she said in closure.

“Max.”  She left, clearly excited, and he closed the door in her wake.  As he normally did, he began to think through every excruciating detail of what they would need or want that evening.  He scooped a pillow off of his bed while pacing.  His good mood became more pronounced as thoughts of an Upperworld party filled his head.

“Wyd, get up,” he said softly.  With Talar, he was not as gentle.  “Talar!” he yelled, flinging the pillow across the room.  “Rise and shine everyone,” he began quite cheerily; “we’re going shopping.”

              Going shopping earlier that day had been an altogether grueling and unpleasant experience for Nameh.  The boys had found what they needed without much difficulty, but she and Mira had taken a bit longer.  She had tried on dress after dress until Mira was satisfied.  She had finally decided on a black dress, Nameh’s only stipulation, with a drawn up hem that brushed her thighs just above the knee.  Sewed into the dress were small shimmering beads which, in the dim party light, twinkled like stars strewn across the black night sky of the fabric.  Her hair was elegantly swept up, the cold metal chain of her pendant sending shivers down her bare neck and shoulders.  Although the pendant was beautiful, it held great power, if only she could read it.  She wore it for Max to see, an inside joke of sorts.