Through Time-Frankie (22 page)

She slumped, her body racked with pain. She tried sliding as close to Crystal as she could—just out of reach, and with frustration and hurting Frankie screamed as loud as she could!

* * *

Darmon padded down the stairs, still invisible, still in wolf form. He was of course, unaffected by iron, but he did not possess Fae power. He could not see through walls, and physically had to check the various chambers, and found all of them locked.

He sniffed at each one and discovered each one empty, until he came to a cell he knew was lined with iron. He could smell it, and he knew that Graely must be inside because he could smell him as well.

He began to whimper because Graely made no sound. Was he too late? Had Graely died? No, it couldn’t be, because this one good Dark Prince was their last hope.

He called to his pack a silent howl that only they could hear, and knew that his alpha parents would be waiting for him, waiting and ready to do what they could.

What Darmon didn’t know was that Graely was in a world of dark where death was in fact near, too near.

Graely did not hear the Shapeshifter at his door, but something else got through to him. He could almost see her piquant face, her lustrous eyes, filled with love, the love she had given him when they were last together…

Where was she? He had to get to her, see her one last time before he died.

The iron in his blood had taken him down. He knew, if left like this too long, the effects would not be reversible and he would die.

He had but one trick up his sleeve.

He could put himself into suspended animation, but he worried, could he wake from it? He had never done that before.

If only he could hear her. He strained to hear Frankie’s voice, and then he did hear something: it was close, so close a totally unfamiliar voice.

“Graely, you don’t know me, but you are desperately needed,” Darmon spoke and pounded on the door. “I can’t get this open without your help. I know they poisoned you with iron powder, but if you can manage some dark magic and get it open, you can trust me to get you away from here and help you.”

If he could get out, perhaps he could help Frankie somehow before he died.

Graely tried first to chant a spell, but nothing came out of his mouth. He tried to speak, and then gave up on one word, hoarsely he said, and it was barely a whisper, “Can’t.”

“You have to try. They are going to kill Crystal…” Darmon almost howled with distress. “You can get out. Go into a place in your mind where the pain can be managed just for a moment, and knock down this door with your Fae Magic. Do it, do it now!”

Graely felt a flash of hope, as his body went rigid with effort. The pain subsided for the flash of a moment, all because he played back Frankie’s voice in his mind, saw her naked in his arms, cooing to him. Frankie. Nothing mattered if he could just get to Frankie.

Through the iron walls, through time, through space, through the iron in his blood, suddenly, he heard her voice screaming at the top of her lungs. She was in agony. His beloved needed him, and here he lay, dying. Well, he wouldn’t die, until he had found a way to save her!

Her voice desperate with need reached into his mind, and yanked on every fiber of his being. He knew he had to find a way to get to her. He had no choice. He had to get to her—and by all that mattered,
he would.

He crawled on his belly in slow degrees.

He didn’t speak as he had to preserve his strength. He didn’t cry out from the pain that beat his body. Excruciating bolts of lightning shot through him, the agony of being cut open alive felt real, so real, that he wondered if his guts were spilling onto the iron floor. Knives slashed at him over and over, but he crawled, he just kept crawling toward the iron clad door, and when he stopped, he summoned everything he had left in him and blasted it open with all the magic he had pulled to the fore.

Darmon heard Graely’s slow progress across the iron floor. Male to male, he felt for this Dark Prince, so different than his evil brothers. He heard Graely chant and stepped back with just enough time to jump away as the iron door clanged to the stone floor.

Graely had done this from the floor where he lay on his belly and collapsed from the effort.

Darmon went to him, Graely barely had a pulse.

“Don’t die
, Dark Prince, don’t die.
You are needed,” Darmon said sadly. He didn’t know if Graely could hear him as the Dark Fae lay there unconscious. There was only one thing he could do. He put his hand on Graely’s arm and shifted with him.

He arrived with Graely in the deepest part of the Shapeshifter’s Forests. He rolled him over on a bed of leaves and stood to face his pack. They were staring at him as though he had gone mad.

“I had no choice. He is dying because his brother shot him up with iron powder. They have abducted Crystal and mean to let her die, and the Dark King will come and destroy us all…”

Eslym arrived and softly said, “Let me try…I must atone.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

HE WAS LIGHT, he was Dark.

He was beyond measure or form, and he was, when in form, so stunningly beautiful that one could not but glance away from him. His beauty was more than a human, or even Fae could visualize, understand or look at without it hurting their eyes.

When in Fae form, he was tall, muscular, tattooed over neck, shoulders, biceps and chest. His hair was white gold, although once his hair had been black as coal. His eyes were the color of a dark sunset, glittering, seeing all, seeing nothing, sweeping past so much.

He wore leather pants and sandals and a gold torque denoting his status as a king.

His energy was profound and eternal.

He looked no more than five and twenty, and yet, his expression was that of an ancient who knew more than he wanted to know.

His essence had but one name, one thought, one need,
Crystal.

He was the Dark King!

He had been busily collecting creatures and providing habitats for them in the new dimension he had created for his consort. In this realm, his Crystal could enjoy a world as near to the human realm she loved with all its beauty and none of its ugliness. He loved creating.

He knew she would be pleased to find her new homeland populated with odd little living creatures, such as cats and dogs, birds and horses.

He rather liked them, himself. But where was she—she had promised she would not be long and Crystal never broke a promise of any kind.

She had said she had been called to settle a dispute in Conglam. She should have returned by now. He was forgetful of time when he was busy, but never forgetful of her.

He called to her through their mind link and found himself surrounded by nothing. She could not hear him.
He could not hear her.

A roar began in his throat.

Had someone dared to keep her from him?

His energy, the energy he had evolved hovered ready to eliminate his Fae form and take him within its folds, but he maintained his Faeness and descended on Conglam.

He stood in his son’s War Room and saw all and nothing at the same time. His interest was singular, and at that moment, centered on one thing only—his Crystal.

Pestale stood before him, and he shuddered as he regarded him and felt the wave of evil wafting off his oldest son.

He should not care so very much for Pestale. The boy was wicked, but he was his first beautiful creation, and he found that in spite of all Pestale’s evil, he was unable to destroy him.  His voice was that of many, deep and resonating, it seemed to fill the air, like thunder.

“Where is Crystal?”

“Father, she said she was going to the Human Realm. She said she could no longer stay with you, and that when you came looking, I should tell you, that she does not wish to be found. She said she wants to live amongst her own kind.” Pestale’s eyes shifted in spite of himself. He saw that his father did not notice. Instead, his father spread out his arms as though supplicating himself to air and space.

The Dark King then brought his arms to his sides and stared at Pestale. When he spoke, his voice was a boom of reverberating sound and could be heard all over Conglam, “YOU LIE, Pestale!”

Pestale’s eyes narrowed and he looked away as he spoke, “But, would that not be a very stupid lie and one that you would detect immediately, one that Crystal herself would deny? Where is she then? I haven’t the power to keep her from you—only she can keep herself from you, from the link you share with her…”

The Dark King did not move as he considered this his first creation, this thing he tried to call son. Crystal had told him, it was his fault that the Dark Princes were warped of mind. She was right. His voice when he finally spoke was a booming vibration that shook the walls and yet was incongruously soft, “Pestale, I have allowed you many digressions. But not this! Did you think I would believe that Crystal would willingly leave me? You know nothing of devotion, but she does. I know better than to believe
your lies. What game do you play? Own it now, and I shall allow you to live.”

“I swear, it is all that I know? She was going to the Human Realm to stop a World War and she told me to tell you that was where she belonged…helping them.”

The Dark King focused on this. His Crystal would help if asked. He knew that was her way, but she would have first told him, herself.

Something was wrong here. The lie glittered in everything Pestale said, and yet, she was not connected to him. Only Crystal could cut the connection. Had he been blind? Had she been so unhappy and he did not notice? Was it his fault for demanding she evolve with him?

Pestale went down on one knee, “Father, I have no reason to lie. Crystal has gone to the Human Realm and of her own accord.”

“Do not think for one moment that I believe you. Do not think that such as I can be fooled with sophist lies. Soon Pestale, you and Hordly shall pay dearly for this,” his father told him and vanished.

Hordly had been hanging in the background, but at this, he sank against the wall and sucked in air. “That is it. It is over. He will come back and everything we have been enjoying here in this dimension will be taken away. He will imprison us in the Dark Realm again.”

“No, he will not. He won’t find her, and he will forget about us as he searches the human world for her.”

“Then we are dead, Pestale, for he will find no evidence of her being there,” Hordly paced, knuckles to his teeth.

“Ah, but there is. I left a note for him to find. It has Crystal’s scent, it has her style and it will be delivered to him by one that he trusts, by Queen Aaibhe.”

“How?”

“Wait and see, Hordly. My plan is fool proof.”

* * *

The Dark King knew the moment Aaibhe received the image message of Crystal in her mind and he knew it was a fabrication.

Such was his power.

He had known that word would come to him through Aaibhe—it was Pestale’s style.

The Dark King had never before entered Tir. It was the land of the Seelie Fae and he had no place there, no longer wished to step foot on Seelie territory.

However, the image of Crystal in Aaibhe’s mind, brought him there in his Fae form, a form he would soon forgo.

Aaibhe bowed her head.

“Do you take this missive as genuine?” he asked without preamble.

“I do not,” Aaibhe answered softly.

“Then destroy it, but help me find my beloved,” the Dark King said.

She eyed him and he knew she wondered how someone all powerful could possibly need help.

“We both know Pestale is behind her disappearance. My Team works even at this moment to discover where she is,” Aaibhe said.

“Do you believe that humans may have managed to capture her because they wish to utilize her powers?”

“I do not. Humans have not that capability,” she said.

“And yet she is gone. She would not leave me like this…that is not her way. I must consider that perhaps some humans are in league with Pestale and have her hidden in iron.”

“I believe whoever took her, did so while she was unwilling. If your mind link has been broken, my King, than we must consider that you are correct and iron has been used to incapacitate her,” Aaibhe offered.

“If humans are in league, we shall soon know…” the Dark King said softly.

He left Tir in the blink of an eye and he used all his magic to track his beloved. His tracking brought him to Trinity and he stared.

Soldiers were everywhere.

Why?

Debris was being picked up. Had there been some sort of altercation? Had Crystal fought them, and been taken down here?

Where was she? Her lovely scent stopped right on the spot, here with all these soldiers.
What had they done?

With a blink, he was no longer in Fae form, but in his now more natural form, a mass of pulsating fire and light, large enough to blot out the sun and beating without a given shape.

When he spoke, his voice carried over all of Dublin, and echoed off the atmosphere, as it bounced off the buildings.

“Release her now and you shall be spared. Do not, and you will have more than Darkness to contend with. I shall give you one hour of your time.”

At that moment all of Ireland went black!