The Frozen Moon - By J.D. Swinn Page 0,11
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.
The urge to rub her eyes grew with each passing moment; she longed to wipe the eyeliner and mascara away, especially the silver sparkles which matched her dress. The only part of her ensemble that felt comfortable to her was the concealed weapons; she was laced to the throat with them, carefully hidden behind the façade. On her finger was a silver ring that easily became a throwing disk with horrific precision and sharpness. The circlet on her upper arm could be willed into a thin long sword, one of her favorite weapons. These two could be converted through the channeling of magic, much the same way that she enchanted her usual sword. Partially just for amusement and the cliché effectiveness, a thigh sheath on her right leg cradled two daggers the length of her forearm.
Looking in the mirror, she was genuinely surprised to see that she looked rather attractive; she felt rather attractive too, something she hadn’t felt in a while. Her parents had used to make her wear makeup, but since leaving them, she hadn’t. The feeling of it was strange, as she was now more used to her face being smeared with foreign blood. The strangeness of her appearance now was not lost on her. The danger lurking beneath the skin of her innocent appearance reminded her of Shakespeare’s Lady Macbeth, and some of her famous words: “Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under‘t.”
Mira, entering the dark room behind her, looked ravishing in green. The earthy tone glowed against her sun kissed skin, outlined by the golden brown ringlet curls that spilled down her shoulders. The front of her hair was pulled back with pins of gold, matching her heels and delicate dangling earrings. She liked to wear heels to compensate for what she lacked in altitude. Her vibrant green eyes were topped with eye shadow: an earth tone blend of colors. It had been a long time since she had seen Mira looking so gorgeous, though her natural beauty was always apparent. She had outfitted Mira similarly to herself: the gold pins and bracelets she wore were more dangerous than they appeared at first glance.
The music was blaring, the pulses of the dance track beating through her body. Thin, lanky bodies swelled and receded in a tangled black sea around her. The party consisted mainly of vampires, as Gwen had told them, but among the delicious chaos mingled werewolves, half harpies, faeries, nymphs, dryads, and god only knew what else. Damn, she thought, the faeries and pixies would be dancing all night; they really knew how to party. She stood now against a wall coolly, watching couples pass arm in arm, laughing. She wondered then, as she often did, if she should try to have a relationship. She stifled this thought promptly, as she always did. The others were standing in a group about ten feet away which, in the dark and loud room, may as well have been ten miles. Gwen and Max talked