Broken Wings (23 page)

“Hello there!” He waved a small green claw at her. “Good morning, ma’am. Do I
have the pleasure of talking with Ms. Rye Woods?”

Rye frowned as she bent to pick up her last shopping bags. “Who is asking?”

He pulled out a card striped with the colours of the rainbow and offered it to
her despite her not having a free hand. “Spike Spignel, ma’am.
Rainbow s End
magazine.”

Magazine? The scowl she skewered him on sprang from a mixture of disbelief and
dread.

“Our readers take an avid and natural interest in the lives of celebrities,”
Spike said. “Your relationship with Flora Withe would –”

“Fuck off.”

Rye stepped past him, dropped her bags on the hall floor, and turned to shut the
door. Spike threw his shoulder against it.

“Ma’am! I’ve got a great offer for you. If you’ll –”

“If you don’t get out of my doorway, I’ll knock you out.”

“
Rainbow’s End
would like –”

Rye shoved the door and knocked the little gremlin back. She thumped the door
shut and slid the bolt into place.
Fey.
Someone had seen that photograph of
her and Flora and not only managed to identify Rye but had found where she
lived. What else had they discovered about her?

Spike knocked. “Our readers would like to know the story of you and Flora Withe!
Ma’am? If you give
Rainbow’s End
an exclusive interview –”

“Fuck off! Leave me alone.”

“Two thousand pieces, ma’am!”

Rye frowned. Two thousand?

“Ms. Woods? Oh. Hello, Miss. Do you know Ms. Woods?”

“Rye?” Holly said. “Yes. She’s my sister.”

Rye slammed the bolt back and yanked the door open. Holly stood looking down at
the journalist. Rye stomped out and grabbed the gremlin’s jacket.

“Listen to me,” Rye said. “You leave me and my family alone.”

“Rye?” Holly said.

“Go inside,” Rye said. “Shut the door.”

“But what –”

“Do as I say,” Rye said.

“Ms. Woods,” Spike Spignel said. “I enjoy face to face interviews, but this –”

“Shut up,” Rye said. “You listen to me, you annoying green fuck. You go away.
You do not return. You do not try to contact me or any of my family again. Do
you hear? Or should I punch you another ear hole in the front of your head?”

“Really, Ms. Woods. There’s no need for any unpleasantness.”

Rye dragged him to the railing and lifted him. “You want to talk? Okay. Let’s do
it at the bottom.”

“Aah!” Spike grabbed for the railing. His skin paled to an unhealthy grey-green.
“Ma’am! Ms. Woods. Please!”

Rye let him drop back onto the landing. “If you don’t want to go that way, use
the stairs. Want me to help you down them?”

Spike backed away. “Look, Ms. Woods,
Rainbow’s End
can –”

Rye reached for him. Spike scuttled away and tripped down half a flight of
stairs.

Rye stomped back to her door. She saw Holly at the window. Several neighbours
watched. A tall, skinny pixie youth took a smoke from his lips and raised a fist
in salute to Rye.

“Slick, bud! Very slick.”

Rye ignored him. She bolted the door and leaned back against it. She felt like a
noose was tightening around her neck.

The phone rang.

“I’ll get it,” Holly shouted from the living room.

Rye strode the few paces to snatch up the handset first.

“Hello? Am I speaking to Ms. Rye Woods?” a strange female voice asked.

“Who are you?” Rye asked.

“I’m Violet Orris. I write for
The Weekly Spore
magazine. I was hoping to talk
to Ms. Rye Woods about interviewing her for –”

“Go away and don’t ever call me again. Do you hear?”

Rye hung up.

“Who was that?” Holly asked.

“Wrong number.”

The phone rang again. Rye grabbed the cord and yanked it out of the wall. Holly
stared. Rye brushed past her on her way into the living room. She pulled the
shade across the window. Her wings were so defensively tight that the muscles
across her chest ached.

“What’s going on?” Holly said. “Who was that man?”

Rye could feel part of her mind shutting down, just like before one of her panic
attacks. But she couldn’t do that. She needed to think things through. It might
not be as bad as she feared. That reporter had been interested in the sleaze
about her and Flora, but he’d made no mention of her being a fairy.

“Rye? You’re acting way too strange. Are you on something?”

“Um. It’s just some stuff.”

“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed. I’m so used to seeing you threaten to toss
guys off the tree that I can’t think why I’m mentioning it.”

“Look. Just give me a minute. I have to think.”

“Are you about to have a heart attack or something?”

That gremlin had offered her two thousand pieces. With that, she would be able
to afford an ident number for Holly from Knife the goblin. But if she talked
about her and Flora, the additional exposure would be putting her in that much
more danger of discovery by the government. Still, if Holly had a number, she’d
be safe. Wouldn’t she?

What a shitty thing to do to Flora. And the priestesses would use her confession
of a homosexual affair against her when they dragged her back to Fairyland. It
would be there in print with glossy photographs. Whatever other punishments
they’d dish out for her having fled the country would be nothing to trying to
cure her of eleven years worth of evil.

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Holly asked.

“Crap.” Rye banged the heel of her hand against her forehead.

Holly would not be safe. If the government people got around to checking out
Rye’s immigration status and shipping her back to Fairyland, they’d be able to
smell out a fake ident number.

“Rye? What’s going on? Who was that guy? Why did you freak out on the phone?”

“I have to keep you safe,” Rye said.

“Safe? From what? That runty gremlin guy?”

Rye slumped on the sofa. She could imagine the next headline: Flora Fucks
Illegal Alien. Nothing Rye might do could stop it. The darkness pressed in all
around her. She could see no path out. She had ground to a standstill. The trap
had sprung shut on her.

“Rye? I’m beginning to imagine all sorts of tragic shit.”

Rye sighed and sagged. “I’m all out of ideas. I’ve failed you.”

“I don’t understand. Failed what?”

Rye felt a hundred years old and so very weary. “You can’t apply for those
scholarships. I’m sorry.”

“'What?'” Holly glared down at Rye.

“You don’t have a citizen ident number. Because you’re not a citizen. I’m
sorry.”

“What the fuck?”

“I thought you’d be safe when you got your wings.”

“Safe? What do you mean?”

“I thought you’d get your citizenship when you became an adult,” Rye said.
“That’s how it works in Fairyland. But it doesn’t work that way here. None of
our relatives in Fairyland can claim you back once you get your wings, but what
I didn’t realise was that you don’t get your citizenship here then. So, you’re
not really safe from deportation. I only found out the other day.”

Holly set fists on her hips and scowled. “You didn’t bother asking before? I
wasn’t important enough?”

“I thought I knew the answer. And there are some things that I find hard to do.
Like talk to immigration.”

“Hard? You find it hard? What about me? It doesn’t matter to you that I can’t
get a scholarship and do what I want for the rest of my life?”

“I suppose I should have told you before.”

“Fucking right you should’ve told me!” Holly shook her fists. “How could you let
me think everything was okay? You promised me!”

“I know I did,” Rye said. “And I tried. I really did.”

“I don’t believe this! You’ve ruined my life!”

“I thought you’d be safe when you got your wings.”

“I don’t want fucking wings! I don’t want to be a fucking fairy freak! I want to
be normal! I want to make something of myself. Not like you. But you’ve ruined
all that, haven’t you? I hate you!”

Holly stormed into her bedroom and slammed the door. She screamed with rage and
frustration. Something heavy thumped against the wall. Her music blared into
loud life. Rye slumped face down on the couch. So this was what it felt like
when your world shattered around you.

Rye didn’t know how long she lay there. Holly’s music blasted through songs.
Blank hopelessness played through Rye’s head. Someone knocked on the door. Rye
ignored it. She got up and walked into the kitchen. She grabbed a jug of beer
from a grocery bag and dropped into a chair. Life 1, Rye 0. Okay. But the game
wasn’t over. She and Holly weren’t in Fairyland yet. There was no evidence that
anyone had identified them as fairies.

After Rye finished her beer, she frowned at Holly’s bedroom door and sighed. She
had to talk to her about this.

“Holly?” Rye pounded the door. “Holly? We need to talk.”

“Fuck off.”

Rye shoved the door open. Holly lay curled up on her bed. She hugged Mr. Bumble,
a faded old stuffed toy which she’d had since she’d been a little girl. Rye’s
heart hurt. She lowered herself to the side of the bed and saw that Holly had
been crying. When Rye leaned across to turn the music volume down, Holly didn’t
object. Rye stroked Holly’s shoulder. Mr. Bumble’s black button eye stared up at
her.

“I never meant to hurt you, Holls,” Rye said. “Never that. I’m sorry.”

“I’m scared.”

Rye brushed blue-black curls away from Holly’s face. “We’re not going back. I’ve
been thinking. Nobody from immigration or the government knows about us. I’m
sure of it. So, I think we can make it right.”

“How?”

“Well, I talked to this woman in the Immigration Service. There are different
ways they can make you a citizen.”

“Like what?”

“You can be a refugee,” Rye said. “Apparently that’s common with fairies.”

Holly sat up. “So, why don’t I become a refugee now?”

“Well, it’s complicated. We’d need to hire a lawyer.”

“Fey. How could you afford that?”

“I’ll find a way,” Rye said. “I’ll cook more dinners. Don’t worry about that for
now. But even with a lawyer doing the application and stuff, it’ll take time.”

“I need to send those scholarship forms in!”

Rye sighed. “I know. But you can send them in next year, can’t you?”

Holly looked horrified. “Next year? Another year at that limping school? No
way!”

“Maybe I’ve tried to protect you from this stuff for too long. Think about the
alternatives. Would another year at school be worse than the rest of your life
back in Fairyland?”

Holly scowled down at Mr. Bumble. “That reeks.”

“Yeah. Welcome to adulthood.”

Holly flashed her a resentful glare. “What are the other ways I could become a
citizen? Would they be faster? And cheaper?”

“Um. What did she say? You’re not old enough to get married.” Rye straightened
one of Mr. Bumble’s antennae. “And no one but me likes you enough to want to
adopt you. So, I guess you’re stuck with me and with school for a year.”

“I could get someone to adopt me? I could ask Daisy’s mum. Or Flora! Yeah, I bet
she’d adopt me.”

Rye was surprised how much that felt like a stinging slap in the face. “We’ll
get a lawyer. Get your application in. Then you’ll be safe and have your ident
for next year’s scholarships, okay? You don’t have to be afraid of anything.
Okay?”

“Can you imagine how scathing it would be if Flora adopted me?”

“Can you forget Flora and pay attention? I’m trying to tell you that we’re going
to be okay. But if the absolute worst happened, we could run away again. So,
there’s no need to fret.”

“Run away? But that wouldn’t solve anything, would it? We’d just be illegal
aliens in some other country.”

Rye shrugged. “If we had to, we’d do it. That’s all I’m saying.”

“This reeks.” Holly frowned. “But, then, who was that guy? The one you
threatened to throw over the railing?”

Crap
. “Um. Just a guy.”

Holly leaped off the bed and strode into the hall.

“Holly! Wait!” Rye darted into the hall to see Holly at the front door. “Don’t
go out!”

Holly picked the rainbow striped card off the floor. “Spike Spignel.
Rainbow’s
End
magazine? That’s one of those trashy gossip magazines. Why would a
journalist leave his card under our door?”

“Um.”

“Shit!” Holly’s eyes snapped wide. “They’ve found out that we’re fairies. That’s
why you’re all so panicked about us getting sent –”

“No! It’s not that.”

Holly scowled. “Then what is it? The only interesting thing about you is that
you’re a fairy.”

Rye bit her lip and ran a hand through her hair. It failed to spark any
inspiration.

“Flora,” Holly said.

Rye’s heart sank. “Um.”

“It’s because you know Flora. She’s famous.”

“Um. Yeah. They… they want me to tell them things about Flora. They found out
somehow that we were friends. I don’t understand how that would be interesting,
but… but they’re offering me money to do it.”

Holly’s face twisted with disgust. “What dregs! How could anyone think – Rye!
You’re not! You wouldn’t do that to Flora?”

“No,” Rye said. “I sent him away. They started calling, too. That’s why I pulled
the phone. Look, I think we would be best lying low and letting them forget us.”

“You expect me to stay locked up in here all day? But shouldn’t we be out doing
something? Like getting a lawyer?”

“Holls, please. One day won’t kill us. Will it? Please.”

Holly looked unconvinced, but she slouched back into her bedroom and turned her
music up. Rye pulled her bedroom door shut.

Rye sat at her desk and looked over her notes for menu plans. She found it
impossible to concentrate. For all her assurances to Holly, she could not shake
the feeling of a noose. She still had not told Holly the whole truth. She had
not admitted that her own application for refugee status would founder because
she was a wanted criminal.