The Frozen Moon - By J.D. Swinn Page 0,26

oil. Who could really be certain how much remained? The moment everyone declared they were ready, he scooped up the bags in one massive armful and descended the steps again with the same eagerness as earlier. He could feel his spirit beginning to lighten the surrounding moods, especially as the morning sun began to soak into weary skin. Max threw the bags into the trunk of the rusty old car he had rented, and shoved the map into Nameh’s hands.

“Navigator” he stated simply with a grin.

“Has anyone bothered to count seats?” Wyd cut in, asking a question Max had known was coming.

“Yeah, I know. Five seats, seven of us.” Max replied with a sigh. “Basically, we’ve got two options. We could either cram seven people into a five seat car, or use a transport spell to get some of us there.” The question hung in the air for a moment, though he was pretty sure he knew which option would beat out the other.

“Well there’s no way I’m getting in the car with all six of you, so at least I’m transporting there.” Wyd cut in.

“I’m with you on this one;” agreed Talar, “it could be a long drive.”

“Road trip!” called Mira, already jumping into one of the back seats. The group’s comfort with each other was at an all time high, and he suspected each person was compensating their feeling of loss with a feeling of gain.

“If we ever want to get there, I guess I’m in the car too.” agreed Nameh with a smile. He was glad Nameh would be driving with him, and Mira would be fun too. Seth and Cal stood between Wyd and the car, still undecided.

“And then there were two.” Max pressured playfully.

“I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve been for a drive.” Seth’s eyes lit up with his words in uncharacteristically youthful anticipation. Max was glad that someone understood why he had rented the car in the first place. “One more seat, Cal, are you up for it?”

“To tell you the truth, I hate car rides. I’ll hang back here.” Cal stepped back with the other two, and the small group waved their goodbyes after promises of meeting up at noon.

Walking around to the driver’s side of the car, Max reached through the open window to press the button that released the car’s roof. Metal screeched against metal as the old soft top slowly labored open. Despite what seemed like great effort on the car’s part, the roof remained halfway closed, and had to be coaxed back with a mechanical groan. When the ancient machine seemed ready at last for the road ahead, he settled into the driver’s seat and immediately felt at ease. There was something about driving that had always appealed to him, the sense of control and precise direction. Now, though, it was a slightly different sensation. Being alone in a car was one thing, but leading others along with you was another. He felt inches away from the escape he knew he needed, they all needed, desperately.

He pulled out of the tiny parking lot, and Nameh was already fiddling with the radio. She scanned through what seemed like hundreds of stations until she found one deemed acceptable by everyone in the car. An upbeat track was playing, a type of song that almost everyone remembered fondly from earlier years. He knew almost immediately that he had picked the worst person to navigate, though the best person to be sitting in the front seat. Already, Nameh was hopelessly distracted, lost in thought and catching stray bits of conversation. But she had her feet up on the side of the car beside the windshield, and the wind caught her white hair like the branches of a willow tree. Her dark eyes had a strange habit of capturing the sunlight, as though they knew only night waited ahead, and wanted to save it away for when clouds blinded even stars.

He watched the road, rushing by like a spinning record. He wished that he could run his fingers across it and listen to the stories it had to tell. Roads had probably seen the most people come and go, live and die, but still they were only roads. Still they were only ways of getting to another place, rushing through another part of your life. The road they were on was slowing them down, unlike most, reminding them that they had to live against the ticking of the clock, which