The Frozen Moon - By J.D. Swinn Page 0,53
he saw the pain, the suffering, the love, and the determination that filled him irreversibly. He hoped the expression would still grace him after death, but he knew Nameh would never know his sacrifice. The suffering drew together from the depths of his polluted soul, forming a single tear, which left a trail of soft salt as it slid down his face. At last, Daniel would make a decision he couldn’t regret.
He plunged the knife.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: RAIN
Nameh’s eyes fluttered open, but the night was so dark that she wasn’t sure if she had actually awoken. The strange shadowy face before hers only perpetuated her dream-like state; soft eyes were nearly all she could see of him. He looked as though he was spun from silver and gold when bathed in the moon, though in the daylight, she thought, he would appear crafted from a dull bronze or softened copper. His faint smile and the pain she became aware of as she awoke were the indications that this was more than a simple dream. A strong arm wrapped around her shoulders and curled her up into a sitting position before she knew what happened. She felt like a child cradled in secure arms, and immediately missed their presence when they retreated. For a moment, he was all she could look at. He would tower over her if they were standing, she mused, but she found this interesting more than intimidating. She snapped out of her thoughts when a voice came from her right she had not realized she missed.
“Come on slacker, no more napping.” Seth’s voice had the same sarcastic twinge that she had come to love, but she could hear the small crack that came from constrained emotion. He had been concerned, though he would not show it much. She smiled at her friend in acknowledgement of the feeling they shared. They were alive, the thought continued to run through her mind. Her head pulsed with such pain that she could hardly think. Her fingers brushed her temples of their own accord, and the newly come blue cloaked figure took gentle notice.
“Your head will likely hurt for a while, but I’ll do what I can to ease it.” His voice was the smoothest and most even she had ever heard, but the perfection bothered her a bit. As he continued to speak of what he had healed, she guessed that the smoothness had been achieved with great care. At least the unnatural calm was likely a front, she thought. The haze in her mind cleared from the burning which revisited her heel, though it was much fainter now than it had been before. As her senses sharpened, she noticed what she had not before: thin lines etched across the tall Healer’s face, as well as Seth’s. They were being strong for her sake, and this was most disconcerting of all. She realized that there were no more sounds of battle, but the night was eerily calm and still. Pieces of the world began to fall into place as her mind sharpened. She saw no movement across the grass as she had before, and Daniel was nowhere in sight.
Seth’s voice was even and comforting, but like the Healer’s, deliberately so. “You’ve been out for a while now.” He paused, trying to find the easiest way to phrase it, she suspected. “Something happened - we’re not sure what yet, but the Moon Faeries came and they summoned reinforcements. We don’t know how or why they came, but they did, and we won the battle.” At this, his face showed a bit of excitement, but not as much as should have been warranted. She knew immediately that the victory was bittersweet, she just didn’t know why. He averted his eyes to continue the news; he couldn’t bear to look at her. “Max is coming around now, but we’re not sure about the others.” He left it at this; she thought he intended to say more, but it seemed that he was incapable. She drew her eyes from him for the first time to survey what was around her. She hadn’t noticed them before because they were behind her line of sight, but crumpled bodies lay in the grass nearby. Four, she counted, and only one stirring. She made a move toward them, but was stopped by the Healer.
“Stop,” his voice was again that smooth and gentle tone that patronized her, “there are things that must be done first.”
“What must be done first, before