The Frozen Moon - By J.D. Swinn Page 0,10
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.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: A STRANGE SOIREE
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