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

by Swinn, J. D.

  Even sunsets, in all their splendor, give way to night.

  ###

  End of Book Two, The Frozen Moon

  Autumn

  With dying arms outstretched,

  Knotted fingers surrender

  Pearls of red and gold at last,

  Wasted on mere soil.

  Blood spills on deep seas

  Of turning grass,

  Which willingly accept the sacrifice.

  The end, and yet, the beginning.

  Autumn’s bleeding tears

  And hopeless stretch

  Of lifelessness.

  Open fields of gray-blue skies

  And envy-inspiring greenery

  Lead the way with their

  Expiring torches through the

  Folding ice of winter.

  Spring will come, the Autumn whispers.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN: AN UNCOMFORTABLE DECISION

  She had never enjoyed speaking indirectly. Their day away from troubles had come to an end, and the pivotal question still hadn’t been addressed. Most of the day had been used to talk about strategy, and yet they still had no plan. Cal and Seth had seemed to know the most about the Vine’s protocols, considering they had the most training. They both agreed that the Vine wouldn’t be of any help to them.

  Nameh was beginning to see why the three branches were becoming imbalanced and outdated. The Guild, the Vine, and the Guardians had grown corrupted, perhaps beyond repair.

  “I know that no one wants to talk about this,” she began, bypassing the indirect conversation that bothered her and surveying everyone’s faces, “but we really have to consider what our next step is going to be. The Guild has clearly caught wind of what we’re planning, otherwise, the incident at the Warehouse never would have happened.”

  “That’s what I was thinking. I think that whatever we’re going to do has to be done soon; it’s only a matter of time before they find us.” Max’s face was serious, but till held the traces of lightheartedness that usually played across his features. Even now, she could make out the lines where his lips bent into a smirk.

  “Let’s go then. In the morning.” Mira said simply. No longer the timid girl she had met several years ago, Mira had grown strong and decisive. Nameh still sensed some of the same insecurities as before, but she had learned to mask them. She wondered if the ability to mask one’s weaknesses and pain had become synonymous with power or strength to her. Either way, it was certainly a necessity.

  “I agree, the less time we waste, the better.” Talar didn’t speak terribly often, but on matters of importance, he was vocal. Wyd, who was becoming proportionally vocal as his comfort increased, mumbled something inaudible. Max nodded, but she thought he had been the only one to hear him. Seth broke into the conversation, if only to question Wyd.

  “What?” Wyd dropped his eyes in embarrassment, but raised them again as he began to speak. Improvement in small steps, at least, thought Nameh.

  “Well, I was just saying that acting right away might not be the best idea. That’s what they’re going to expect us to do; it’s probably just a trap.” The end of his sentence ended in a high pitch, characteristic of Wyd when he was nervous about presenting a point.

  “It doesn’t even matter now.” Seth’s rough voice was calm. “If we act, they might find us, but if we don’t, it won’t matter anyway. We’re running out of time, and if the Guild can find the Relic before we do, we’re screwed.”

  “Definitely. And not just us, basically everyone is screwed. I think this only proves that we don’t have time to find another branch of the Vine,” Cal chimed in for the first time.

  “Even if we could find them, it would take weeks to go through the Elder’s Council. Plus, all the sub councils are filled with Guild spies, and the last thing we want is to attract more attention from them than we already have.” Talar, who had sat pensively for some time, spoke up.

  “So, basically we’re just acting alone, then. I’m only trying to be realistic, but is there any way we can win this fight?” His voice sounded the most concerned she had heard it since knowing him.

  “Does it matter?” Nameh’s question went unanswered for a long moment. “Like Seth said, if we don’t act, we’re only sealing our fate. I don’t know about the rest of you, but there’s no way I’m going to surrender the world to whatever the Guild decides to unleash on it without even trying.” Her voice escalated as she tried to make them understand how much she needed to fight for this. She understood, as she thought they all did, that they couldn’t fight forever. If there was to be a fight, then they would make it a war. A war to end all Guild and Vine wars. Mira was the first to support her, as usual, something Nameh had always appreciated.

  “Alright then, we’ll leave tomorrow. Where should we start?” Cal responded definitively.

  “I guess we should go check out the memorial, it’s the only thing left of the Great Warlock, and if the rumors are true, it could help us find the Relic.”

  “Alright, then it’s settled. Why don’t we get some food and rest?” Nameh’s voice nearly trembled as she paused to collect herself. “We’ll need it.” The group sat in sullen silence for a moment, and she imagined that none of them could resist the urge to consider their near inevitable fate. Seth broke the silence with a second suggestion to get dinner, this one was received better.

  Mira turned back to the group, “We’ll go down to the lobby and see where we can order some food from.” The group seemed just as surprised at her leadership as Nameh was, but they were all tired from exhaustive thoughts and plans. Mira extended a hand, and she unfurled her long legs to follow her friend. They descended the stairs into the lobby together.

  She turned to Mira, “Nice leadership,” she told her friend with a sly smile.

  “Ugh,” she sighed, “Well, no one else had the energy to.” She returned the smile as they entered the small room. Now, a different man sat at the desk, and there was a boy in the dimly lit room. Nameh imagined that the previous man, Gwen and Eve’s uncle, had left to grieve with the rest of his family. The two girls watched the boy bicker with the man at the desk. The boy’s hair was brown and slicked back with a greasy sheen. His blue shirt with a starched collar stretched all the way down his arms into full sleeves, despite the fact that the autumn chill hadn’t yet fully set in. They seemed to stop arguing, yet the boy continued to stand at the desk. Her patience wore thin, and she approached the desk anyway.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” began Nameh warily, “but we were just wondering if there was anywhere around here we could order food from.”

  “Oh, sure. What are you in the mood for?” His voice held no traces of the frustration he had shown just a moment ago, in fact, he behaved in a charming manner. “Within a couple blocks, there’s pizza, Chinese, Thai, Greek, and a couple others that deliver.” The girls mulled it over for a moment, and turned to each other.

  “Maybe we should go upstairs and ask the others,” Nameh suggested. The man at the desk wrote down each number for them, and they retreated back to the now comfortable haven of their rooms. Everyone was still assembled much in the same manner, but now more at ease. Bodies were flopped on the beds, unconcerned about proximity to each other in their comfort. The group decided on pizza, and Nameh phoned in the order, having the most mature ‘telephone voice’, as Mira called it. She was right, though; her eloquent speaking was one of her most prized traits. She was excellent at creating a façade of peace, calm, and pleasantness, a useful skill.

  She talked with Seth as they waited for the pizza, their topics switching fluently and quickly. They had become quite comfortable around each other, as they all had.

  “So, if you could be any animal, what would it be?” she asked in a light tone. Despite the sleep that crept into the corners of her mind, she was amused.

  “Any animal…that’s a tough one.” He thought for a moment longer, and then his eyes snapped back to reality with a decisive expression. “A dolphin” he said simply wi
th a small smile. “Intelligent and protected by humans.” She couldn’t help but laugh at his choice, and began to think about the answer to the question she knew would be returned.

  “I think that I would want to be some kind of bird. Like an eagle or a falcon. Flight has always fascinated me, and it would be thrilling to hunt.” Her tone was matter of fact, but even she could hear tones of excitement boiling underneath it. “We talk about strange things, I think. It’s probably my fault, though; I brought it up.” At this, she laughed.

  “If we didn’t talk about strange things, then the conversation wouldn’t be nearly as interesting.”

  “True” she conceded. They continued talking until the pizza arrived, by which time, everyone was exhausted. Everyone ate in near silence as eyelids became heavier, and the girls soon retreated to their room to sleep in comfortable beds again. For most of them, however, it would be a shallow and troubled slumber.

  CHAPTER TWENTY: A HAUNTING PAST

  The sun was astoundingly high in the sky when Talar slipped out of his deep sleep. Max and Wyd’s breathing was still rhythmic and steady, so he was careful as he stood not to wake them. His arms stretched high above his head, and he felt his abdomen muscles unfurl beneath the skin. He had slept deeply, too deeply for his liking in fact. He didn’t like being lulled into a state of unawareness; anything could happen when you were sleeping like that. The taxes of the battle earlier could already be seen and felt throughout his body, scars that told a story in as much detail as any words could. He traced a mark down his arm with his fingertip; scar tissue already welled beneath the skin like hints of green beginning to emerge in a barren field.

  He quickly wheeled about to grab a t-shirt from his bag, sending a small silver object dancing through the air. He caught it just before it hit the ground, letting out a sigh of relief for the small treasure and his still sleeping comrades. His eyes were drawn to the glinting silver as though it possessed a strange magnetism. It was a small rectangle of the shining metal, surrounding a tiny picture. Brown eyes stared back at him through the glossy paper and time itself. Damn those deep, brown eyes. Time fell away from him, and his vision swirled, focused only on the eyes. The view widened to reveal what surrounded the face: a picturesque scene romanticized and perfect from the soft edges of memory. It couldn’t have possibly been this beautiful, he thought to himself, but he knew that the girl by his side was. Her hair was the exact color of sand, with that natural shine so few possessed. It hung just beneath her shoulders, straight and soft and glossy. Her fair golden brown eyes were crinkled ever so slightly in response to her bright smile, shining as they always did in her curved face. He knew that her skin was sun-tanned, but in the bright light of the unusual moon, she looked like a beautiful work of pure porcelain.

  His fists clenched and teeth gritted as he was unwillingly dragged back to the Corner. His chest tightened with that familiar pain, grasping for the strength to keep it at bay. He didn’t feel his muscles swim and swell as he did when physical pain tormented this body. No, this kind of torture could not be touched with the teeth and claws that served him so well in other places; it merely sat in all it’s fine china glory upon a shelf that he could not reach, mocking him. He replaced the small picture in his bag, but could not hide away her eyes, her smile, her laugh. They burned like fire from the stars of memory across his mind.

  It was then that he snapped-nearly. Talar raced from the room, pulling his shirt over his head. The bright sun greeted his eyes with knives, but he pressed on, running with all the rage inside of him. The suffering burned like fuel inside him, some hellish fire. He knew that his feet hit pavement, wind brushed his sweat-drenched face, and people stared from all sides. He knew that these were things his senses should have detected, but did not. He must have run several miles before slowing to a stop. He took assessment of his body, his thoughts.

  Numbness.

  It was all he could feel, and with the desired effect achieved, he turned and walked slowly toward the Corner, his hands in his pockets and his head down. It was under control, he thought. For now.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: IN THE LIGHT’S EMBRACE

  Grassy hills stretched out before her, as if unfurling their limbs from a long and restful sleep. The gentle sun caressed its yawn across their sea of earth, completing the image of the awakening world. Fitting, she thought, seeing as this was thought to be the birthplace of the Upperworld. The leaves had begun to change color as the seasons passed seamlessly into each other. All around Nameh, the sky seemed to be rimmed with fire, rustling gently in the fall breeze. She breathed deeply and relished her favorite part of autumn: the smell. It smelled of dampness and fresh earth and death. But underneath it all lay the subtle tones and promises of new life to come.

  She turned her attention to match the others’, facing the great marble statue in front of them. The figure was a great and pure white angel, made of all smooth lines and soft curves. In one outstretched arm, it held a perfect ring balanced on its palm. She recalled a line of text Max had quoted earlier, “The ring is thought to be a symbol of eternity, never-ending and perfect.” The other arm of the angel was drawn about in an elegant pose in front of its chest, as though it mimicked a ballerina, creating a half circle. Looking at the monument was like being at the beginning of the world, when the spark had created all of the Upperworlders: the birthing of the vampires and harpies and warlocks, faeries and pixies and dryads, griffins and dragons and phoenixes. Not even the Guardians or the Vine knew exactly how many races of Upperworlders existed anymore. Some had surely died out, while others live isolated in the earth’s far reaches. Others still might never have been discovered, like the Unseen spirits of dark magic which are thought to feed on souls in exchange for power.

  Creatures of all kinds had been created. The light and the dark, equal and opposite, perfectly balanced. Good and evil, black and white, life and death. It was all the same, it seemed to her now. The colors swam together into a gray cloud across her thoughts. For a moment, they could only stare, breathless.

  The beauty of the image was striking in design and purity, but these did not help them to draw the conclusions they hoped to. They had spoken few words since arriving at the memorial, for all had been deep in thought, considering the carefully cryptic words inscribed at the pristine angel’s feet. In the light’s embrace, all shadows are lifted. These were, of course, translated from the Warlock’s ancient language through the aid of Wyd’s learning spell several nights before.

  Finally, after battling the urge for too long, Nameh reached out a gentle hand and laid it on the smooth marble. Few things she did were gentle, but the awe and respect inspired in her at the sight of the ancient stone compelled her. Despite the cold air, the marble held a surprising warmth, as though deep inside it, an inextinguishable flame burned. For a moment, she could see before her the faces of a thousand Markbearers, hear the whispers of a thousand spells spun, taste the dew of a thousand sunrises, feel the caress of a thousand winds brushing past, and smell the deep and heavy scent of passing time. She snapped out of her sensory dream as she drew her slender fingers back from the statue.

  “Alright,” Mira began. She was twisting her fingers as she often did when in thought. “So we know that the inscription might be of significance-”

  “Or it could be nothing,” added Cal as a consideration.

  “Right,” she continued. Her brow furrowed slightly, and she bit softly at the side of her lip. “In the light’s embrace…” she trailed off. A pensive silence grew over them like consuming moss, isolating and focusing their thoughts.

  “Well, remember the old Markbearer texts.” Talar raised his eyes to draw their attention. “Almost everything it said was metaphorical. Maybe if we think that way, we’ll be able to figure it out.” His voice was even and smooth; he was a good and convincing speaker.

  “That’s true, but there are a lot of things that have to do with light.” Nameh pointed out.

  “Purity, goodness, heaven�
��” Cal listed off. Max’s thoughts had traveled in another direction.

  “It could have something to do with sun or moonlight too. A lot of ancient magic revolved around those two because they were natural sources of energy.”

  “In the light’s embrace? The statue is always in the sun or moonlight.” Talar seemed to disagree with the theory.

  “Heaven,” Seth repeated softly. “The angel?” he indicated the statue before them. The group was silent as they weighed his words.

  “That makes sense,” said Wyd, his voice increasing in pitch as it did when he was trying to be sincere.

  “So, if you think of the angel’s embrace, instead of the light’s embrace, it could have something to do with the statue’s positioning?” Nameh ended her words with a question, leaving it open for speculation.

  “And the shadows being lifted. Is it talking about happiness?” Mira was growing more and more excited with each step forward, though she tried to contain it, Nameh could see it clearly in her eyes.

  “I don’t think so,” Cal began, “it’s either about defeating evil, or maybe the shadow of doubt?”

  “In the angel’s embrace, doubts will be lifted?” Talar’s voice questioned. “Doubts of what?”

  “Hopefully we’ll find out.” Seth replied.

  “Then go,” said Max simply to Nameh.

  “Go where?”

  “Into the angel’s embrace, of course.” She had not taken this statement quite as literally as he had, but she could see by the way he motioned at the stone that he meant for her to step into its left arm. This was the arm curled loosely about its body, the one she had assumed was simply an elegant pose. Now it did seem as though the angel was inviting one to step into its embrace.