Broken Wings (28 page)

Rye shook her head. Nothing seemed quite real. Too good to be true.

“Lover,” Flora said, “I want to be with you and have your babies and –”

“Babies?”

Flora smiled. “Perhaps I’m getting a little ahead of myself. Oh, Rye, you’re my
budmate. Trust the buds. It’s the oldest dryad saying.”

“One of these days, you’re going to have to explain this bud thing properly. I’m
feeling like there’s still a lot I’m missing.”

“I promise.” Flora looped her arms around Rye’s neck and looked into Rye’s eyes
from close range. “Well? Will you?”

Rye felt another of those utterly calm moments brought on by an unexpected
certainty. “Yes. Yes, I want to marry you.”

Flora beamed and kissed her.

Rye might have liked to continue their embrace, but she heard Mr. Summerbank
stifle a cough. She crashed back to an ugly reality that had everything to do
with extraditions and prisons rather than loving embraces and lifetimes together
for happy couples.

“I hope you don’t mind a long engagement,” Rye said.

“Actually, I wasn’t planning on very long.” Flora reached into the front of her
blouse as she turned away. “Uncle Basil, would you mind?”

“Of course, Flora.” Mr. Summerbank stood and slid a green form from a folder.

Rye frowned. “Babe, if they send me back to –”

“Hold out your hand.”

Flora looped her thin gold neck chain over her head. She unhooked the chain and
let the pendant slide into Rye’s palm. Only it wasn’t a pendant. They were two
matching gold rings.

“I couldn’t bring my purse in here,” Flora said. “Do you like them? I had to
guess your size. A friend designed and made them. They’re probably a bit too
arty farty for you. We can choose different ones later if you hate them.”

Rye was too astonished with the wider implication to form much of an opinion
about rings.

Mr. Summerbank tapped on the far door and asked the guard to step inside.

“Witnesses,” Flora said. “We need two.”

“Now?” Rye said. “We’re going to get married right now?”

“Yes,” Flora said.

“But… but don’t we need to –”

“Mr. Summerbank has the licence. I applied for it a few days ago. Just in case.
He’s registered as a celebrant.” Flora’s smile faltered. “Am I being too pushy
again?”

“A bit. A lot. Yeah.”

Rye turned to see Mr. Summerbank asking the female guard to step inside.

“I suppose this is something you’re just going to have to get used to,” Flora
said.

Rye stared at her. Flora smiled and put a hand on the side of Rye’s face.

“I love you,” Flora said. “I promise I’ll work on my pushiness. Okay?”

Mr. Summerbank halted near them and smiled. “Are we ready?”

“Don’t work too hard on it,” Rye said to Flora. “I think I need it sometimes.”

Flora smiled broadly as she slipped her hand into Rye’s. It was a great way to
start a wedding ceremony, even one conducted in an interview room at the Scrub
Street Detention Centre.

Rye fingered the ring on her thumb. She had done that a lot in the last three
days. It was the only tangible evidence she had that she had not dreamed about
marrying Flora. This was a wedding ring with some weird engraving twining around
it. And too big for her proper finger. But it was the ring that Flora had pushed
onto her finger when Mr. Summerbank married them.

Married. To Flora. Surely that was a dream?

Although, had it been a dream, Rye would not have spent their wedding night, and
the two following ones, alone in a cell. Her imagination would also have
dispensed with broken wing and arm. Both would hamper consummating their
marriage.

The door lock whirred and the door swung open.

“Out you come, Woods,” the guard said.

Rye obediently stepped outside. “What is it?”

“Your lawyer.”

Rye hoped that this meant her lawyer and Flora. She had expected Flora to visit
her. Surely, now that they were married, they’d be allowed to see each other?

The guard turned left at the end of the corridor instead of right.

“Aren’t we going the wrong way?” Rye said.

“Nope. Trust me, Woods, I’ve worked here fifteen years. I know my way around.”

The unprecedented burst of loquacity surprised Rye.

They herded her into a room where Mr. Vervain, the young lawyer, waited.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Woods,” he said.

“Um. Hello. Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Allow me to offer my congratulations,” he said.

“Um. Thanks. What is this about? You need to take more photographs of my wings
and back?”

“No, Mrs. Woods. I’m here to facilitate your release.”

Rye blinked. “Release?”

“Yes. The repatriation request was declined. I have a copy of the full text of
the adjudicator’s response and reasoning for you.”

Rye thanked him automatically. She couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.
“Is this because I’m married to Flora?”

“No, ma’am. Although, that did complicate the case for the applicants. The
adjudicator drew heavily on the suffering you expected should you be returned.
It was your evidence, Mrs. Woods, which determined the case.”

Rye put her hand to her chest because she needed to feel something, to make sure
she wasn’t dreaming.

“Now,” Vervain said, “this brings us to the criminal charges against you.”

“Oh. Right.” This wasn’t a dream after all. “What happens?”

“We’ll need to build a defence,” he said. “First, though, would you like to be
released on bail?”

“I get a choice? Does anyone ever say no?”

He smiled. “Your wife has asked me to ask you if you have any problems with her
posting the bail for you.”

Rye grinned. “No. I don’t have a problem with that.”

“I’m relieved to hear it. I had no relish for passing on the message Mrs. Withe
asked me to convey in the event you declined.”

Rye smiled and signed the forms he offered her. She was very tempted to ask how
much the bail was, but resisted. She had promised Flora that she would work on
her problem with money. Now was a good time to start. And it wasn’t as though
she was going to run away and cause Flora to forfeit the bond. She had run away
from her problems for the last time.

The guard took her through to another room where they brought out a bag
containing her possessions. She had to sign for them before struggling to dress
in her own clothes. The guard helped her.

Vervain waited for her on the other side of the last barred doorway. He and a
guard accompanied Rye to a sturdy door. It opened to the outside. She stepped
out and looked up. Sky. Sunlight.

“This way, Mrs. Woods,” Vervain said.

He indicated a guard post beside a gate. As she walked toward it, Rye saw a taxi
carpet on the other side. And Flora. Rye smiled and walked faster. The guard
passed them through. Rye trotted down the steps and walked into Flora’s embrace.

Flora was laughing and crying at the same time. Rye just wanted to hold her.

Flora broke off to offer her thanks and her hand to Mr. Vervain. Rye assured him
that she would remember to report in to the police tomorrow.

Finally, Flora and Rye climbed into the back of the taxi. Flora instructed the
driver to fly them to Whiterow Gardens.

“I could’ve come in my carpet,” Flora said. “Except, I want to touch you and
concentrate on you.”

“Thank you for bailing me out.”

Flora looked expectant. Rye guessed she was waiting for some comment about the
amount of money, and for Rye to say how she could never pay it back. Instead,
Rye bent to kiss her long and deeply. Flora’s arms slipped up around Rye.

“Mmm,” Flora said. “I’ve never kissed a married woman before.”

“Me neither. I think I could get used to it.”

Flora smiled. “You don’t mind? No regrets, now that you’ve had time to think
about it?”

“I love you. More than anything.”

Flora’s hands became a little more exploratory as if she, too, needed the
reassurance of touch to convince her that this was real. “Elm, I’ve missed you.”

“Mind the wing, babe. Fey, you are a dream.”

Flora smiled and pulled Rye’s head down for another long, hot kiss. “You taste
nice. But you need a shower.”

“Or a bath. I’d need help. With this arm.”

“I think it must be my wifely duty to scrub your back. And other bits.”

The driver coughed.

Rye sharply glanced at him and her cheeks warmed with a blush. Flora put a hand
to her mouth but failed to stifle giggles.

Rye tried to settle as comfortably as she could between accommodating her broken
wing and wanting to be in constant contact with Flora. She clasped Flora’s hand
as if she would never let it go. Flora snuggled against her. Rye rested her
cheek against Flora’s hair and smelled that faint trace of pine sap. Oddly, that
small touch finally convinced her that she really was with Flora and not still
back in her cell dreaming. Rye reverently pressed a gentle kiss to one of the
knotty buds in Flora’s hair. Just when everything seemed right, she realised
something was missing.

“Where’s Holls?” Rye asked.

“Waiting for you at home,” Flora said. “I asked her if she wanted to come, but
she said she’d rather wait.”

Rye frowned. “Fey. She must hate me a lot.”

“Hate you?” Flora straightened to study Rye’s face. “Why?”

“Because of… um… what she heard about me. At the hearing.”

Flora stroked Rye’s jaw with the back of her fingers. “I have a confession to
make. I outed you to Holly before the hearing. It was unavoidable with her
living with me and the discussions we had with the lawyers. Now, I’d hate to be
one of those wives who says ‘I told you so’, but I did tell you that Holly had
probably guessed about you. About us. And I was right. It was neither news nor
shocking. She thinks it’s scathing that we’re a couple. Or were. Which reminds
me.”

Flora released Rye so that she could rummage in her purse.

“I didn’t mean about being gay,” Rye said. “Well, I suppose I did. But not
mainly.”

Flora pulled her ring out of her purse and offered it to Rye. Rye accepted it
with a frown.

“I haven’t been wearing it.” Flora held her hand up. “I think you have to be the
one to tell Holly that we’re married.”

“Oh. Right.”

Rye awkwardly pushed the ring on Flora’s finger. Flora finished settling it into
place and kissed Rye.

“So, what else are you fretting about?” Flora said.

“Um.” Rye scowled down at their joined hands. “Mother.”

“Oh. Lover, I don’t think –”

“I did it. Right in front of Holls when she was a little kid. I think I hit
mother with a stick. It must have been. I remember dropping it. I suppose I
should’ve told you before we got married.”

“Was this one of those times when you went blank?”

Rye frowned at the patched knees of her pants. “The first, I think.

I can remember what happened before it and afterward. I can’t recall actually
doing it. But I must have. I’m sorry.”

Flora was quiet for a long time. Each moment was an agony for Rye. Rye could
understand if Flora wanted to distance herself from a killer.

“Holly hasn’t said anything to me about this.” Flora tightened her clasp on
Rye’s hand. “Darling, I think it’s a miracle that you didn’t kill more people on
your way out of Fairyland. I don’t blame you for this. It doesn’t make me love
you less. It can’t be easy for you to carry around. Which is why I think it
would be so good for you to talk to a professional about your past. And get some
things sorted out. To get some resolution for your sake. We can find you a
therapist as soon as you feel up to it.”

Rye nodded. Her fingers closed more tightly on Flora’s hand. “Yeah. I need to.
Before I do anything else.”

“I’m guessing that this is something you’re going to find tremendously
difficult.” Flora stroked Rye’s cheek. “But you’re about the strongest person I
know. And I’ll be with you every step of the way. Neither of us imagined this
was going to be like one of those stories where the heroines get married and
live happily ever after. Did we? We know we have issues to work out. Both of us.
But we’re going to do it, aren’t we? Together.”

“Yeah.”

“Kiss me.”

“You’re wonderful.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

Rye and Flora were still cuddled close when the taxi pulled up on the penthouse
parking pad at Whiterow Gardens.

Flora gave Rye a reassuring smile before opening the door. Rye felt strange
walking into Flora’s apartment. The last time she had been here, she had broken
off their relationship and run away. Oddly, she could hear the jarring beat of
Holly’s crash music.

“Holly!” Flora shouted. “We’re home.”

Rye followed Flora around the corridor. Holly came bounding to meet them. Rye
felt a spurt of unease. Would the kid reject her? Hate her?

Holly threw her arms around Rye and hugged her far too enthusiastically for
Rye’s broken wing. Rye grunted but bore the discomfort. She felt perilously
close to tears. She gave Holly a quick kiss on the cheek. Holly astounded Rye
when she reciprocated.

“You’ve looked better,” Holly said. “And you reek!”

“Yeah. I haven’t had a shower for a while.”

“We thought you were going to die,” Holly said. “When we saw you in the
infirmary. They said it was some weird reaction to something they pumped in
you.”

“You visited me?”

“Of course. Me and Flora. Brought you flowers, too. Except they wouldn’t let
them in the room, because they weren’t sure what your freaky system was doing.
We had to put on these gown things, like sheets, before we could go in and see
you.”

“No one told me that you’d been.”

“Those grunts beat the shit out of you, didn’t they?”

“Language,” Rye said. “And don’t call the police grunts.”

“Time inside hasn’t changed you at all, has it?”

“I was in a detention centre,” Rye said. “Not prison. And you shouldn’t have
that music up so loud. Flora isn’t used to annoying teenagers blasting –”

“Flora doesn’t mind,” Holly said. “Do you?”

“Flora is going to make tea,” Flora said. “Why don’t you two go and sit in the
lounge? I think you have things to say to each other.”

Rye cast her a dark look. Flora smiled sweetly and strolled away to the kitchen
door.

When Rye perched on one of the sofas, Holly slumped beside her.

“How are you doing, Holls?” Rye said. “I was worried about you.”

Holly shrugged. “Flora has been scathing. She said that lawyer would get you
out. Are you going to be a refugee, too? And, hey, Rye, Flora talked with the
people who run the scholarships and some of them let me put in a late
application! It would’ve been nice to have been able to tell you that I’ve got
one when you came home.”

Rye frowned. “You applied? Already? You’ve got your ident number?”

Holly nodded.

“You’re… you’re a citizen?” Rye said.

“Yeah. Came through yesterday. I’m all legal. The lawyers rushed it all through
and breathed down people’s necks.”

Rye beamed and awkwardly reached to give Holly a one-armed hug. She blinked back
tears.

“You pleased?” Holly said.

“This is the best news I’ve had in a long time.”

“But you knew that Flora had offered to adopt me, didn’t you? Just in case they
wanted to chuck me back to the fairy freaks.”

“Yes, I know she did. But I’m glad she didn’t have to. For her sake.”

Holly stuck her tongue out.

Rye grinned. The idea of the size of the lawyer’s bill tugged at the edges of
her thinking. Rye tried to ignore it. She and Flora would work something out.

“Um.” Holly suddenly took a strong interest in picking at a thread in her pants’
leg. “If you’re bounced about me being a refugee and you getting out of the
slammer, I guess now would be a good time for me to… um. About getting drunk. I
guess it was pretty stupid.”

“Oh, yes. We need to talk about that.”

“Look, before you get knotted, I know it was stupid. I just said so, didn’t I?”

“Drinking and drugs? What, in the name of the Almighty King and Queen of the
Fey, did you think you –”

“Rye! I’ve admitted my idiocy. Okay? What more do you want? I realise I fucked
up.”

“Language!”

“Sorry. Look, I was only trying to help.”

“By getting yourself arrested?” Rye said.

“No! Fey. I don’t know why I bother trying.”

Holly stood. Rye grabbed her wrist and tugged her back down.

“Okay,” Rye said. “You talk. I’ll listen. Just make it good.”

Holly glowered. “I thought I was helping. I thought those burrower kids would be
able to sell me an ident number. They gave me a drink. One thing led to another
–” She shrugged. “I didn’t expect to end up with the grunts. Or to get you into
so much trouble. I’m… I’m sorry. Okay?”

Rye had a hundred things she wanted to say, the first being that everything was
not okay. But Holly had apologised. She said she realised that she had made
mistakes. Would there be much point ramming it down her throat?