The Frozen Moon - By J.D. Swinn Page 0,12

while Talar scanned the room and Mira chatted with Wyd. Her eyes sparkled in the low light, and Nameh watched with amusement at the way Wyd stared, clearly uncomfortable and enthralled with her. He tried his hardest to play it cool, but failed miserably; instead, he simply avoided eye contact nervously.

A voice surprised her, nearly making her jump. “Hey,” it said in a friendly tone. She turned to see that a boy now stood leaning against the wall to her left. He was dressed far too casually for the party, but seemed not to notice or mind. He was Asian in descent, like Wyd, but she guessed from a different region based on his facial structure. His dark hair fell down to just above his eyes from beneath a black baseball hat covered in silver symbols. Square black glasses rested on his nose; they suited him well. Everything about the boy except his skin was dark, from his hair and eyes to his D-street t-shirt and long shorts.

Despite his dark appearance, his smile was warming, and his eyes emanated vitality; something she immediately liked and envied. He seemed uncaring and altogether happy; something she could hardly remember feeling, like a distant dream. But simply standing near him was bringing that feeling back to her slowly, like warming frostbitten hands near a roaring fire.

“What’s your name?” he asked. She hesitated for a moment, thinking she ought to give him a fake name, but couldn’t bring herself to lie to the boy. This confused her; she often had to lie to protect her own safety, and rarely thought twice of it now.

“Nameh.”

“Cal,” he said, extending a hand. She took it with her usual firm grasp.

“Pretty crazy party, right?” he continued in his pleasant voice.

“Yeah, but that’s what happens when the Upperworld holds interracial parties.” He laughed understandingly, and she noticed that he lacked the pointed teeth of a vampire. He didn’t strike her as a bloodsucker, though, the vitality he possessed was impossible. Apparently noticing her studying his teeth, he put her mind at ease.

“I’m not a vampire,” he laughed, “I’m a Markbearer.” His words astounded her, she couldn’t sense an inkling of his presence, and Max hadn’t said anything either as they entered the party; he should have known. He responded again to her baffled expression.

“Shields,” he said, holding out his hands as if she could see the force spun around him. “Since the raid on the Vine downtown, I’ve been trying to sense others. It’s hard here, though, too much magic in a concentrated area.”

“Then how could you sense I was a Markbearer?” He gave her a coy smile,

“It was pretty easy to tell: you’re standing by yourself, but you didn’t come in alone, and you have a ring similar to this one.” He held out his right hand, one of his slender but strong fingers was encircled by a ring of brushed silver, which she now imagined to be some sort of weapon as well.

“Are you alone?” she asked, “I mean, did anyone else make it through the raid?”

“Three others, they’re here with me somewhere. Seth, Gwen, and Eve.” At this, he scanned the room, giving up after a futile effort in the dark.

“Gwen was the one who brought us here.”

“Ah, Eve’s her sister, and Seth is a friend.”

“Then, you’ll be going after the Relic, right?”

“No, actually. We got in touch with the Vine in Detroit, and we’ll be headed up there soon. Why, are you going after it?” He tilted his head slightly, indicating he thought this an obscene notion, but was impressed at the prospect.

“Keep it quiet, but yes. Do you know anything about the Great Warlock’s death that might help us?” Her forward questioning surprised even herself, but she saw no point in skirting around the issue; either he did know something helpful or he didn’t. He thought for a moment, considering her words.

“Well, he’s not exactly buried, because they never found his body, but his memorial isn’t too far from here. They say it’s placed where the Great Spark was supposed to have taken place. Legend also has it that the clues to finding the Relic were left at the memorial site by his closest confidants, but I doubt it, considering no one has ever found anything of use.” He spoke using his hands, a characteristic that made talking to him more enjoyable.

“So the headstone just has what, a bunch of coded messages or something?”

“One, actually; it’s something about an angel’s embrace, just a cryptic