The Frozen Moon

chapter TWELVE: PREPARATIONS





Mira’s eyelids fluttered open to reveal a groggy world bathed in the early morning sunlight. She admired the golden beauty for a moment before stirring; it was going to be a good day, she thought. She sat up and brushed a curl from her face; she hadn’t put it up last night as she usually did, she had simply been too tired. The wretched book laid sprawled open next to her bed, the infernal thing had taken all of her energy in exchange for its knowledge. She had retained many of the spells and techniques from its pages, but not without great effort. She preferred making connections throughout history, repeated mistakes and successes.

At the thought of her friend, she glanced over to find Nameh’s bed empty. She sheets and blanket lay in a crumpled heap; she rarely bothered to make her bed. Mira stood and began to smooth her own covers into a neat arrangement, tucking the edges beneath the mattress. When she finished, she surveyed her work; order brought her calm, whereas Nameh thrived on chaos. She rubbed at her eyes, trying to clear her sleepy mind. Coffee, she thought, I need coffee. She began to think of the places that Nameh could have gone; she wouldn’t be in the cafeteria because they were avoiding questioning teachers; they hadn’t been attending classes. Max’s room? She wasn’t exactly in the mood to go knocking on his door, especially if her theory proved wrong, but she didn’t know where else to look.

When she reached his door, she hesitated, letting the invisibility spell drop from around her. What if he was still sleeping? Were Talar and Wyd sleeping here too? Maybe I should just go wait for her in our room. Before she could follow through on any of her thoughts, the door swung open, revealing Max standing behind it in a slightly wrinkled white t-shirt and blue pajama pants. “You know, when you use invisibility spells, you actually become more visible to other Markbearers.” His comment was confusing, but she was too tired, she would ask later. She surveyed him again: he had thin bags around his eyes, he hadn’t gotten quite enough sleep, and his short hair was rumpled. She had the urge to reach up and smooth down the pieces that went astray, but immediately thought better of it. She almost stammered, something she rarely did, but his cool blue eyes were so piercing and disarming that she was taken off guard.

“Uh,” she began, not sure if her question would seem absurd, “is Nameh here?”

“Tall girl, dark eyes, white-ish hair? Yeah, she’s here; I think she’s torturing Wyd right now, but if you’ll wait a moment…” He was quite witty, she thought. His presence and casual jokes were pleasant and refreshing. He turned back into the room as if to confirm his theory; he gave a small nod and let her pass. Nameh stood from where she had been seated on the bed and extended a mug to her. She peered into the contents and was overjoyed at the sight of the steaming brown liquid. It was just the way she liked it, lots of cream and sugar with a little foam.

“I annoyed Wyd into conjuring it.” She twisted her face into a thoughtful look, “I wasn’t sure how else to get coffee without going through the lobby, and it’s much too early for a teleportation spell.” The perk in her friend’s voice was surprising; she had always wondered how she managed to run on such little sleep.

“It’s also much too early for a conjuring spell, so you’re welcome,” Wyd half-muttered in a tone that had an attempt at displeasure, but failed entirely.

“Thank you,” Mira said with an apologetic look.

Talar was lounging on a bed that she was fairly confident hadn’t been there the day before. Guest beds, she assumed; likely Wyd’s handiwork.

“Now that everyone’s here, we may as well get down to business. We can’t very well stay here much longer, now that none of us are really Guardians anymore.” Talar’s words gave her a painful shock, she hadn’t thought of it in this way before. She felt as though she was abandoning a lifestyle, an oath. “But I know of a place that takes in Upperworlders who don’t have anywhere else to go. There’s quite a…motley crew of creatures there.” He laughed a little at this thought. “Werewolves, vampires, faeries; I actually met a centaur there once.” He added his last thought with an absent minded interest. Mira’s curiosity heightened at the mention of a centaur; they didn’t frequent urban areas, but they had always fascinated her. Centaurs were one of the few remaining groups of Children of the Spark who were considered purists. They believed that their place was outside the realm of humans, and therefore mostly existed in their own cities in less inhabited parts of the world. She had dreamed, as a child, of visiting far off lands to see all of the distant and rarest magical creatures. There were dwindling numbers of banshees in the Himalayan and Appalachian mountains, and mermaids in all of the world’s oceans; there were centaurs in Central and South America, and phoenixes that bathed in the fire of Hawaii’s volcanoes. But most of all, she longed to watch the fierce and beautiful griffins fly over the skies of Nepal; it was one of the few places where they could live in peace. It was a sort of crazy dream, but one that she hadn’t entirely given up on.

“My vote is for leaving today,” Nameh’s voice cut in, “the sooner the better. We’re not getting any closer to finding the Relic just sitting here. That is still the plan, right?” The room was silent, leave it to Nameh to ask a perfectly simple question at just the right time, and leave everyone speechless. After a moment, Max broke the silence with a characteristically well thought out answer.

“I don’t see what else we can do. The local branch of the Vine is all but gone, and there isn’t time to locate and get to another one. Not to mention the fact that I’ve been sensing weird changes in the Guild’s magic; they’re getting closer, and we’re just treading water.”

“I still think it’s too dangerous, but if you’re in, I’m in,” Wyd said with an even tone. He was very level headed, Mira thought, and wasn’t as shy as he’d seemed at first.

“Alright then, problem solved. Well, one problem anyway. There’s still the matter of not having a clue where to start looking for the damned thing,” Talar said amusedly.

“Why don’t we just go to this place Talar’s talking about, and ask around the Upperworld? We’ll have to be careful, obviously, but if we don’t raise too much suspicion about our motives, then the Guild will probably leave us alone,” suggested Mira. The others weighed her words in silence, making her feel uncomfortable. She almost wished that she hadn’t spoken, that she could take her words back like physical objects. As soon as this thought had formed, it was shattered by a consensus of approval.

“I can get us there with a moving spell as soon as we’re ready,” Wyd said, now warming up to the idea. Mira liked the fact that he made decisions slowly and carefully, but seemed eager once he had. The idea of leaving was beginning to sink in as an actual decision, and she was excited. She began to wonder what strange encounters would be waiting for them in the Upperworld outside the Academy. Max broke the pensive mood with a final lighthearted joke.

“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.