Frankie (Through Time 4)
However, so much had been blown to pieces. The sculptures that had been on display in the middle of what had once been a grassy square had been destroyed; their parts scattered and covered with dirt and shrapnel.
She watched a clean-up crew as they worked diligently to remove the debris. She allowed the sounds of the city to fade into the background as she tried to concentrate on something, a feeling she was getting from underground.
A familiar and welcome voice at Frankie’s back made her turn and smile, “Fiona,” she said softly.
“Frankie!” Fiona reached for her hands and shook them, “Ye need to check yer emails and give me yer cell number.” Fiona clucked her tongue, “I have been trying to get in touch with ye and make certain ye were alright.”
Frankie sighed and took a step out of the way of one of the workers loading up a large wheelbarrow with debris. “Sorry Fiona, I haven’t had a minute to even check m’mail, but I am that glad I am to see ye.” Frankie gave her a comical once over and added, “What have ye done to yer hair?”
Fiona touched her new short black locks, “Oh, why what color was m’hair when ye saw me last?”
Something in her tone sounded as though she was trying to recover. Recover from what, Frankie wondered. “Ye were a redhead,” Frankie said.
Fiona giggled, and Frankie heard a nervousness line her voice, but Fiona had already linked her arm through hers and said, “Walk with me...we’ll go get some tea.”
Frankie allowed her to drag her a few steps and said, “Fiona, I am so sorry, but I don’t have the time right now.”
Fiona stopped and said, “Then just sit with me for a minute or two.” She pointed to a quiet corner where a bench had been set under a huge oak.
Frankie was anxious to be free. She needed to do some investigating, but she said, “Right then, a minute or two, but then I must be off.”
They sat and Fiona took her hand and said, “I want you to know, Frankie, I am sorry.”
Frankie was wondering where Fiona’s accent had gone to, when she felt something sharp jab her wrist.
She looked down, blinking, not at first understanding as she looked at the needle depositing its awful ingredients into her blood.
With disbelief, she stared at Fiona as the girl pulled the syringe away and flung it. Suddenly looking into Fiona’s eyes, she saw what she had missed.
Fiona wasn’t human at all.
Why had she not seen it? Her mouth dropped and Fiona as though reading her mind said, “Fae cannot detect our Glamour at first. It takes Fae a very long time before they can see through our Glamour and mine is stronger than most.”
“Why?” Frankie said as the first sharp pain shot up her arm and started spreading through her body.
“Please believe me, I am so very sorry. I like you, Frankie. I did from the moment we met, and I didn’t want to do this, but Pestale says that you will ruin all his plans. He says that if I did this, I will be putting you out of harms’ way and because I do like you, that is my fervent wish, Frankie. I must help him accomplish his goals. They are true and will save this earth, but you are prejudice
d because of his past. So you need to be safely tucked away.”
“Fiona,” Frankie tried to reason with her, but whatever had been injected into her bloodstream was making her woozy. “Someone who makes ye trick and hurt others is not someone ye can trust. Pestale is not someone ye should trust. He is not who ye think he is.”
“I love him, Frankie,” she sighed, “He is so much better than anyone knows. Everybody has the wrong idea…”
“No, Fiona, we don’t have the wrong idea. He and Hordly are as evil as evil can be,” Frankie’s breath now was ragged and her words edged with the agony the poison was producing in her veins.
“You are wrong, and my name is Eslym of Conglam,” Eslym said sadly. “Now I have to get you away from here.”
Frankie was already beginning to hallucinate as everything around her began to swim in waves of distorted images. She felt Eslym take her hand and knew they were shifting, and didn’t have the strength to fight it. “Eslym, is it? Right then, Eslym what did ye inject me with?”
“Dragon’s Breath,” Eslym said quietly.
“Don’t ye know, Eslym, Dragon’s Breath can be deadly to a Fae,” Frankie rolled her eyes. Everything in her body, all her joints were beginning to ache.
“I do, but not to you.” Pestale says it will keep you under control, but it won’t kill you, as you have already been exposed.”
“He is wrong, it gets more lethal each time a Fae ingests it,” Frankie managed to say and suddenly felt her world go black. She gasped because she couldn’t see and as her head started spinning she felt the darkness engulf her.
Eslym took her in hand and shifted with the power that was hers.