Broken Wings (6 page)

Flora slid her arms up Rye’s chest and shoulders until she touched wings. Rye
held her close so they touched naked body to naked body without even air
separating them. Flora kissed her.

“You… you don’t mind that I’m a fairy?”

“Of course not. You thought I might?”

“I tell people that Holly and I are of mixed bogle and brownie blood. Because
most people don’t like fairies. They think we’re all freaks and religious
nutters who should be shipped back to Fairyland.”

Admitting that she was not a legal resident, and the questions that would beg,
would involve another giant leap of faith Rye wasn’t prepared for. It was scary
enough that she’d revealed her species.

“Is that what triggered your bolt after our first time, at the club?” Flora
said. “And why you asked if we’d taken our clothes off? Because you thought I’d
discovered that you’re a fairy? And you feared that I’d have such an adverse,
prejudiced reaction that it would cancel out my attraction and liking for you?”

Rye shrugged. “It’s easier and safer to hide.”

“Well, I’ll certainly keep your secret. Of course I will. It’s obviously so very
important to you. But you don’t have to hide from me.”

The next Fifth Day morning, Rye found it hard to concentrate even on so mundane
a task as making breakfast. She had a date with Flora at ten o’clock. And sex.

“I’m away, Holls,” Rye called. “Remember that I’ll be late. I’m going to the
library after shopping. Okay?”

“Don’t forget the borage juice this time,” Holly called.

“I won’t.”

Rye hurtled down the stairs to the base of the apartment tree and ran toward the
market. She raced through her shopping. When she carried her bags to the
rendezvous, she found Flora waiting for her. As soon as Rye climbed in and
snapped the safety harness on, Flora hit the power. She speeded away. At Flora’s
apartment, they began undressing each other before they got out of the carpet.

Later, Rye sighed and eased herself up onto an elbow. They lay tangled together
on the floor in the short hall between the garage and the living room. Their
discarded clothes formed an untidy trail back to the carpet. Flora stretched
lazily and smiled at Rye.

“I suppose it’s too late for me to play hard to get?” Flora said.

“That’s okay. Cheap and easy is fine by me.”

Flora looked deeply offended, but ruined it by sitting up to loop her arms
around Rye’s neck and kissing her.

“Hmm. You taste good,” Flora said.

“You feel good. And smell nice. That hint of pine sap. It’s like bonking a
building site.”

Flora hit her and rose. She looked gorgeous as she stalked away. She paused
halfway across the living room and gave Rye a look that clearly indicated Rye
ought to be following her.

They settled on a sofa to feed each other bits of fruit. Rye soon discovered
that juice tasted much nicer licked off a dryad’s body. Sex on the sofa left
colourful stains on the upholstery.

After a long, hot, steamy shower, they reluctantly dressed.

“I’d better get home,” Rye said. “Holly will be forgetting what I look like.”

“Would I offend you terribly if I said that I hoped your school will have
another power cut?”

Rye smiled and pulled Flora close. That she, Rye Woods, could enjoy the
privilege of touching so beautiful, so sexy a woman was nothing short of a
miracle.

“I don’t have class this Fourth Day,” Rye said.

“Oh, goody. Can you come over?”

Rye frowned. “I want to. More than anything. But I mustn’t leave Holls. The kid
sees little enough of me as it is.”

Flora looked disappointed. Rye bent so that their foreheads rested together.

“Do you think they’d invent a whole new day of the week for us?” Rye asked. “One
that we can have just to enjoy ourselves in?”

“Fuck Day.”

“I’m betting it would be very popular.”

Flora slid a couple of fingers into Rye’s waistband and gently tugged. “Until
then, Fifth Day mornings will have to be our fuck days. You can make it next
week?”

“Even if I have to tie Holly in a chair and run all the way here carrying my
grocery bags.”

“We needn’t be quite that drastic.” Flora lost her smile. “This is going to be
the longest week of my life.”

“I’ll call.”

“It’s not the same. But please do.”

After a long, lingering, regretful kiss, Flora fetched her purse. Rye retrieved
her groceries from the cooler.

Rye asked Flora to stop the carpet at the street corner before her tree.

“You don’t want Holly to know about us?” Flora said.

Rye frowned out of the side window. Flora wouldn’t understand if Rye told her
that she didn’t want Holly to know she was gay. Rye did not want to explain
about Fairyland and her fear of getting sent back.

“She hasn’t seen me with anyone before,” Rye said. “Um. It’s complicated. I
mean, it could get complicated. Do you mind?”

“As long as you’re not ashamed of me.”

“What? No! Of course not. She thinks you’re the top of the trees. But I bet
she’d think you were a lot less stylish if she knew you were seeing me.”

Flora laughed. “I wish I’d had a little sister.”

Rye pulled her jacket collar up against the wind and strode to ward the school
gates. She wasn’t at all sure she really understood this new accounting module
as well as she had the economics one. She should read more. There were just not
enough hours in the day or days in the week. If she’d been able to take the
public transit carpet to work, she could’ve read on her way to and from the
building site. Mr. Bulrush had asked her again about the certification exam.
Rye really liked the idea of taking the proper exam, and saving herself some
courses, but the preparation would take even more of the time she didn’t have.
And the exam itself was likely to carry a fee.

A carpet pulled alongside her. She grinned and bent to see Flora.

“What are you doing here?” Rye asked.

“Cruising for some hunky dyke to pick up and grope,” Flora said.

Rye climbed in. Flora dimmed the windows and twisted around to get closer to
Rye. Their first kisses were like those of parched women slaking thirsts.

“Elm, I needed that,” Flora said. “Do you mind? I simply couldn’t wait to see
you again.”

When Flora dropped her off a discreet distance from her tree, Rye watched the
carpet lights until they disappeared. She sighed. Fey, it had been wonderful to
be with Flora for even just half an hour. It was going to be a long time to
Fifth Day. If only they could meet more often. Rye needed to do something about
transportation. She crossed the street to Cloudnut’s All-Purpose Store for a
newspaper.

Holly was in her room when Rye got home.

“It’s me, Holls,” Rye called as she went to the kitchen.

Evening work at new health bar. Must be friendly and well-presented.

Rye drew a pencil line through that ad.

Casual labour wanted for after hours cleaning. No experience necessary.
Evenings and nights. Flexible hours inc. Fifth Day. Good remuneration. Apply T.
Rivers, Asst. Personnel Supervisor.

Perfect. Rye drew a dark circle around the advertisement. In fact, it sounded
too good to be true. What was wrong with it?

The kettle whistled. Rye rose and went to pour boiling water onto the pan of
chestnuts.

“How was school?” Holly flopped into a chair at the table.

“Okay.”

“You always say that.”

“So do you. How did your day go?”

Holly wrinkled her nose and tugged the newspaper closer. “What’s that smell?”

“Probably the bracken,” Rye said. “It’s not as fresh as I thought.”

“No. It’s not cooking. It’s like perfume. Really nice perfume. That’s so
twisted. You haven’t actually started to use personal hygiene products?”

Rye glanced down at the front of her shirt. Crap. Holly must be smelling Flora’s
perfume. What could she possibly say? “Um. The only stink in this house is that
grunge you keep in the bathroom.”

“No, it’s not like anything of mine. Why are you looking at Help Wanted ads? You
didn’t finally tell Pansy where to shove her fried sandwiches?”

“I need another job.”

“
Another
job? What were you thinking of doing, letting people do medical
experiments on you while you sleep?”

“I can’t afford to save for a new broom on what I earn now.” Rye stirred the
bracken. It really was past its best. She’d not buy from that imp again. “I
should be able to find something to do on those Fourth Nights when I don’t have
classes. Or Fifth Day afternoons.”

Chair legs screeched on the floor. Holly stomped out and slammed her bedroom
door. Rye frowned. What was that about?

After dishing up dinner, Rye knocked on Holly’s door.

“Holls? Dinner’s ready.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Have you been eating junk at your friend’s house again?”

Music blared from behind the door. Rye returned to the kitchen and ate her
dinner in unsmiling solitude. She washed up but left Holly’s plate on the table.
She wished she had a beer, but she had not bought any for this week.

Rye carried a cup of tea and the newspaper into the tiny lounge, made her bed up
on the couch, and lay down to look through the job ads. She stared at the one
she had circled earlier.

“Shit.”

Rye scored a line through the ad. Assistant personnel supervisor. She’d be
expected to fill out all the official paperwork, including the citizen
identification number which she did not have.

After Rye finished reading through the chapter set in class, she snapped off the
light. Holly still hadn’t emerged from her room. Rye’s thoughts drifted in a
much more pleasant direction. Flora.

When Rye arrived home the next night, Holly was not in. Rye couldn’t even find a
scrawled note.

Rye unhappily set about making soup. After she finished adding the last lumps of
fennel root, Rye wiped her hands on her tea towel apron and sat to open her
mail. One bore the fancy crest of Holly’s school. Rye chewed her lip as she tore
the envelope. If the kid was in some kind of trouble – “Crap.”

Holly wasn’t in trouble, Rye was. School fees were going up an extra three
hundred next semester. How was she supposed to find that? Her work at Pansy’s
only just covered the current fee.

The door opened.

“You’re late,” Rye said. “Where have you been?”

Holly slammed her bedroom door shut and turned her music on loud. Rye silently
counted to ten before returning to her mail.

When Holly emerged to eat, she still wore her school clothes.

“If you spill food,” Rye said, “you’ll have to wear the stains to school.”

“If I didn’t go to that stupid school, you wouldn’t have to work all those jobs
to pay for it.”

“You are not leaving school. When you’re my age, you’ll be grateful for a decent
education. You might even thank me for sending you to that school.”

“Easy for you to say. You never went.”

Rye winced. That drew blood. “You’d probably enjoy it more if you got better
grades.”

“That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it? Well, I hate school. I’m not good
at it.”

“You used to be. If you tried –”

“I do! I’m stupid. Is that what you want me to say? I’m not smart like you. It
doesn’t matter how much you force me, you’ll never get my brains bulging out of
my head. And forcing me to stay at school forever isn’t going to make me like it
any more. It’s a stupid waste of time.”

Rye’s fists clenched. “You would’ve liked your life even less if we’d still been
in Fairyland.”

“I doubt that.” Holly shoved her half-empty bowl away and stood. “At least I’d
not be a freak who has to lie all the time.”

Holly stomped into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Rye dropped her spoon on the table. “Give me the power to endure.”

In the haven of Flora’s apartment on Fifth Day morning, Rye should have been
able, for a few precious hours out of a week, to devote herself wholly to her
own pleasure with Flora.

“By the Elm, you’re tense, considering what we’ve just done.” Flora knelt behind
Rye and kneaded her naked shoulders.

Rye grunted and grimaced at the flickering fire.

“Work?” Flora asked.

“Very hard work. It’s Holly. She’s being an impossible pain. She only speaks to
tell me how much she hates her life and hates me.”

“What’s her problem?”

“I wish I knew.” Rye reached for the mug of beer that she had only taken two
sips of before they had flung themselves together on the hearth rug.

“School? Boys?”

“I phoned the school. Her counsellor says that she isn’t having any problems.
Looks like it’s just me. And she’s not talking. She slams doors. Just when I
thought her adolescence couldn’t possibly get any worse, it does.”

Flora kissed the back of Rye’s neck and slipped around to sit in front of her.
She sipped wine.

Rye stroked one of Flora’s legs. “I wish fairies were one of those species that
shove the young out of the family nest at an early age.”

Flora laughed and put her other leg within Rye’s reach.

“What worries me,” Rye said, “is how angry she gets me. I’d never forgive myself
if I laid a hand on her, but it seems like she’s goading me to see how far she
can push. And sometimes it’s a close thing.”

Flora looked thoughtful as she stroked the edge of Rye’s wing membrane. Rye
watched the firelight playing across Flora’s body. No sculptor who chiselled and
sanded the palest, finest-grained wood could dream of creating anything close to
Flora’s smooth, curved perfection. For a breathless moment, Rye felt overwhelmed
by awe. That she, Rye Woods, should be here with Flora, and be allowed to touch
Flora, didn’t seem real. Rye forgot Holly and all her other problems as the
Almighty King and Queen of the Fey twitched aside the dirty curtains that
normally shrouded life and allowed Rye a peek of transcendent joy.

Flora’s fingers stilled and she looked up. “I have an idea. You can reject it
and you won’t ripple my pond. How about I try to talk to Holly?”

“You?”

“I know my credentials from dealing with teenagers aren’t extensive, but I do
have the advantage of never having to tell her to tidy her room or do her
homework. And I have a carpet that is astronomically stylish. Plus the
undeniable assets of my personal flair and irresistible charisma.”

Rye smiled. “You forgot modesty. I wonder if it would work?”

“How about I invite you two to dinner over here?”

“You can’t cook.”

“I can take us out to a restaurant for the eating bit.”

“No!”

Flora looked taken aback. “What did I say wrong?”

“I’m not letting you put yourself out of pocket because of my problems.”

“Out of pocket? I was only planning to buy the three of us dinner, not part
ownership in the place.”

Rye frowned down into her dark beer. She was sure she could not afford to pay
for her and Holly at any restaurant Flora patronised, nor did she own anything
of equal value she might give in return. Much as she would like help with Holly,
there had to be something else they could do that would not entail her becoming
obliged to Flora.

“Why don’t you invite me to dinner at your place?” Flora said. “We could – No,
wait, I have a brain wave. To get Holly on her own, why don’t I take her
shopping for the ingredients? Then you can cook the stuff when we get back?”

“That might work.” Rye nodded. No fairy could argue the fairness of one
providing food and the other the labour to prepare it. They could sit down to
share the meal on equal terms. “You wouldn’t mind?”

Flora sat up to loop her arms around Rye’s neck. “I’d be spending time with you.
I’d like to get to know your little sister.”

“Not this version of the Holly Hormonal Monster, you won’t. But I’d be grateful
if you’d try. I’m down to the last pea in my pod with her.”

“You could always thank me in advance.”

Rye smiled and let Flora take the beer from her hands.

“We really need someone who can work four nights a week,” the woman said.

“Oh. Right,” Rye said. “Um. Thanks.”

Rye hung up and crossed out another ad.

“Fey. You wouldn’t think it’d be this hard to find something. Just a few hours a
week.”

Rye tossed the newspaper in the bin and trudged into the bathroom. She leaned
against the shower wall and let warm water stream over her wings and body. She
felt so damned tired that she could fall asleep here.

Yet, she had another three-hour shift making fried sandwiches ahead of her
tonight. The thought of another job held very little appeal. But then, it
wouldn’t be forever. She just needed enough for a new broom. Her life would get
much easier when she could cut down her travel time.

Rye strolled out of the building site gates. She spied Flora’s carpet parked
down the street. Rye waved a hasty parting to Knot and the boys before jogging
away.

Rye dropped her workbag on the back seat and turned to Flora. “Wow. You look
great.”

“Why thank you. You’re making my hormones tingle, too, lover.”

“You didn’t dress up like that just to meet me?”

“Why not?” Flora steered the carpet up into the highest lane. “But on this
occasion, I’m on my way back from a busy afternoon. I had lunch with my father.
Then a meeting with my agent. And finally, I’ve just come from talking with a
gallery owner.”

“Don’t they expect you arty farty types to dress worse than me?”

Flora flashed Rye a mock threatening smile. “It’s a good job I have my hands
full. The next time you say arty farty, Rye Woods, I’m liable to throw something
at you. And for your information, I’ve never found that displaying my assets to
best advantage hurt my chances of dealing with anyone.”

“Works with me. I’m very much taken with your assets.”

Flora patted Rye’s thigh. “How is Holly?”

Rye grimaced and grunted. “The aggravation monster continues to stomp through my
life. You know what I need right now?”

“Sex.”

“I was thinking of a large shot of raw bark spirits. Your idea is better.”

Flora smiled.

When Flora parked on the pad outside the apartment, Rye took a deep breath
before getting out. Would Holly think it strange that Flora had given her a
ride?

“Holls,” Rye called. “I’m home.”

Rye ushered Flora down the few paces to the kitchen. Holly’s door was shut and
imperfectly muffling the jarring sounds of the latest crash music.

Rye put water on to boil. “I’ll fetch her once I’ve made tea.”

Holly emerged on a blast of noise as Rye poured. She shot Rye a petulant look
before slouching off toward the bathroom.

“Can you turn that down?” Rye said. “Ms. Withe and I can hardly hear each
other.”

Holly spun around.

“Hello, Holly,” Flora said.

Surprise shattered Holly’s sulk. “Ms. Withe? Wow. Is there any tea for me?”

Rye and Flora shared a look as Holly bolted to turn her music off.

“I was on my way from the Lightning Tree gallery,” Flora said, “when I spotted
Rye walking along. She’s very kindly invited me to dinner on Fifth Day.”