The Frozen Moon - By J.D. Swinn Page 0,40

seconds until the Guild was upon them. They all took one last forlorn look around the perfect place, and wished that they could linger, especially knowing what waited for them back in their world. Max uttered a small warning, he didn’t want to worry his friends, but they had to know what might be waiting for them.

“If I never get to say this,” he heard Nameh begin, “thank you. And goodbye.” No one responded to her simple words, but they all felt a mutual kinship, broken only by the thin blue smoke forming about them. Their arrival would be painfully close to that of the Guild, he thought; conflict was likely.

She plummeted and fell toward the earth, with no more control over her body than the leaves falling around her. The second transport that day had been much more difficult than the first, she imagined it was due to Wyd’s drained power, as well as her body’s protests to this repeated thrashing. The thud of bodies hitting cold soil was sickening at best, but paled in sensory comparison to the feeling.

The only comfort she felt was the warmth of her clinging jeans, thick, black coat, and the rich smell of earth that once again greeted her. Slowly, she exhaled and assessed the damage, not good, she concluded. She raised her head and saw that everyone was in the same position, excepting Wyd, of course. He stood with his head slightly cocked, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, and wearing a look of apologetic shyness. Seeing Nameh stirring, he spoke in his soft voice.

“Sorry, I’m tired. Should have tried to keep it lighter.” She pulled her feet underneath her laboriously and stood up, silencing the screams her muscles produced. Rubbing the sore spots, she saw that the others were doing the same. As her own realization grew, she voiced the thought crossing everyone’s mind.

“We did it,” she said simply, a faint smile crossing her face. Up until now, she had been doubtful at best toward the chance of their success. Slowly, the smile spread like oil on water, reaching them all at the finish. It seemed surreal that the goal they had striven for during these last weeks, lived for these last weeks, had been reached. Could it really all be over? That dreaded feeling rose again inside her, that blasted sense and hope of an impending happily ever after. She tried to choke it out, twist it inside her chest to starve it out like a flame without oxygen, but this time it persisted. The knowledge that her emotions might be getting the best of her was maddening.

Nameh urged them all along; if they were going to have a chance at making it somewhere safe before the Guild found them, they would have to leave immediately. Everyone was on their feet, and for a moment she felt that they had a chance.

She did not dwell on the thought any longer, however, for the feeling was replaced by an entirely new one within seconds. Her thoughts were ripped through, clawed through, her reality torn to pieces as though by some great and terrible bird of prey. The bird offered forth its blood stained claws and raised its dark, satisfied beak.

Its eyes were green. Shocking and horrible green.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: TIME LOST

The shadow closed in around them, leaving no hope of escape. The darkened faces of those surrounding Nameh held no sign of emotion, only callous and purpose. But it was not they who drew her attention. The ink black hair that framed his deep skin and emerald eyes was unchanged, the hard set of his smooth features, the stance of his broad shoulders, the piercing stare of his expression, were unchanged. It was the ghost of a memory standing before her, a perfect image of what she had known, clung to for far too long. The only thing changed, she knew now, was her. She no longer tried to see the hint of Daniel in his eyes, no longer tried to create fantasy that was not there, because she knew it was not.

In his eyes, she could see only spite and the façade of his former self that he tried, even now, to wear. This brought no sorrow to her, however; she had shed her last tear for Daniel long ago. Now she cried for no one. The only remorse she had, when she stood face to face with him after all these years, was that not one of