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He bent and placed healing hands over her wound, which was a long wide gash made by a piece of metal stuck in her abdomen.
The metal fell away, as the wound healed and closed. He turned to Frankie and said, “She is in shock…but, she will be fine. Ah, the ambulances are here.” He turned to Jazz, “You two must rest. You are both depleted.”
Frankie could see that Graely’s own powers were taking a beating. He couldn’t keep this up much longer.
Jazz had bent to stroke the girl’s forehead, sure now that she would do, turned and saw a young man, trying to hold his arm in place.
Graely followed her line of vision and strode up to the young man, and a moment later, his arm was reattached, although he was still lying unconscious on the blood soaked grass.
Jazz and Graely silently regarded one another.
When Graely moved off, Frankie could see it was because Trevor had arrived.
Both Jazz and Frankie were running on empty.
Fae can heal most living beings, but not in such numbers all at once. It is a process that drains their own life essence.
Frankie watched as Graely lowered his eyes and slipped into the background, away from Trevor and Jazz.
She got up and ran to him, because she could see he wanted to leave. Jazz also turned and called out loudly and fervently, “Thank you, Graely.”
Frankie wanted to hug and hug her dear Jazz fiercely and never let her go. Jazz had been there for her from the start, when everything in her life had all gone wrong—Jazz had been the one who had jumped in and taken hold. Jazz was the one now who did the right thing, and recognized Graely’s help and thanked him for it. She could see that Trevor still held back, even though he knew Graely had been helping, and Frankie’s eyes narrowed as she planned to give him a good talking to.
Trevor didn’t know, but she did, how much Graely wanted to be accepted by the people she cared most about. Thank goodness for Jazz.
Frankie’s heart nearly burst as she witnessed one of Graely’s very rare smiles flit across his face. As quickly as it had been there, it vanished. He took a step back as though suddenly he found he was no longer welcome, and all vestige of his momentary happiness had been stripped away and replaced with a grim hard-eyed look. It was as though hope had tickled him and then suddenly slapped him down.
Before Frankie knew what had happened to change his mood, he had shifted away.
At first, Frankie thought perhaps he had left to recoup, but then, she saw her father marching toward her and knew the truth.
Frankie’s own face, one which would have ordinarily welcomed her da, took on a hard look of her own. She cocked a brow and folded her arms across her chest.
Chapter Twelve
SVENTER EYED HIS men as they lined the walls and ceiling of the squared chamber with the iron they had procured during the distraction of the bombing. He knew the bombs had been more than a distraction. It was a prelude, Pestale wished to give of what was coming. He wanted the entire world to know, he didn’t need an army. He could do so much with human weapons, and a bit of magic.
However, the distraction had enabled them to procure the iron and load it into the truck without anyone the wiser.
Worley and his Daoine were on hand causing mass confusion in the factory, knocking over tables, throwing food, making chairs slide across the room. The metal workers were frozen in place believing they were being haunted.
No one thought a thing of iron walking itself out the door. No one even wanted to look.
Most of his soldiers had witnessed young females and some children both damaged and killed. They had even seen a mother with a babe in her arms thrown a long distance by the blast which left both dead.
They were trained warriors, yes, but they had lived in peace for many centuries and had forgotten the trials of war. They had fought their enemies in hand to hand battles.
Conglam was their home. This earth was a foreign place where the air was difficult to breathe and the humans they had killed this day were innocents—all innocents.
It was not their usual way.
This was Pestale’s way—his plan and Sventer could see that this sort of thing would take its toll on them. He had to admit, that he too, in spite of the goals he had set for himself and his men, found this more than repugnant. He would have preferred hitting a military base.
The people who had died and been maimed had been unarmed. It had been a cowardly act and not one he wanted to repeat.
None of his warriors had much to say after they saw what they had wrought. Instead, they hung their heads and shifted off with him to obtain the iron they needed and drive it to the opening of the underground. There, they had enough power to shift in the sheets of iron, though in truth, it had been a difficult procedure.
Sventer knew what they had done was necessary. Terror was something they needed to interject into the human world. This was the first step toward that total terror. Humans finding themselves overwhelmed and ready to bend and bow.
