Broken Wings (25 page)

The door beeped. Rye waited for the breakfast tray to appear. Instead, she heard
the whir of the lock. The door swung outward. A blue-uniformed pixie woman
beckoned to Rye.

“Out you come, Woods.”

Rye wandered out into the corridor. Voices and people and a large space were
momentarily strange and threatening. Another female guard waited on the other
side of the door.

“This way,” the guard said.

Rye followed. The other guard walked behind. They took her through several
barred doorways and along corridors that all looked the same except for the
number of doors in them. At one point, Rye glimpsed a room in which several
women in bright yellow inmate overalls moved and talked. The guards marched her
past. Finally, the guard opened a door with a window set in the upper part.

Rye stepped into a medium-sized room with a table in the middle. Two men stood
near the table. A paunchy middle-aged limoniad, with black streaks in the
typical earth brown hair of a meadow nymph, wore an expensive-looking suit. The
other man was a young sylph, who also wore an expensive suit rather than the
loose, flowing clothes generally favoured by his species. More government agents
come to question her. High-powered ones by the look of them. Rye’s heart, which
she didn’t think could sink any further, dropped at the same time the female
guard thunked the door shut behind her. The back of the guard’s head was clearly
visible through the barred window.

“Ms. Woods?” the limoniad said.

“Um. Yeah.”

“Won’t you join us? And take a seat?”

Rye didn’t have a choice. She wandered to the table. Before she sat, the nymph
offered his hand. It did not contain his mobile showing his credentials. Rye
awkwardly shook his hand with her left. His skin was smooth, his nails
immaculately manicured, and he wore three chunky gold rings.

“My name is Basil Summerbank,” he said. “This is my associate, Ash Vervain. I’m
pleased to make your acquaintance, Ms. Woods.”

“Um. Yeah.”

When they had all seated themselves, Mr. Summerbank retrieved a gold pen from
inside his jacket. Rye noticed the thin pile of papers on the table in front of
him. Young Mr. Vervain sat poised to make notes on a thick pad of blue paper.

“My associate and I are attorneys,” Mr. Summerbank said. “If you choose to
accept our services, Ms. Woods, we shall represent you for as long as you
require.”

“You’re lawyers? You’re on my side?”

“Yes. If you’d like. If not, we can arrange for the representative of your
choice to attend you.”

Rye had to look away for a moment. Caught unawares, the rush of relief
threatened to spill out of her as tears.

“Ms. Woods? Are you feeling unwell?”

“Um. No. I’m fine. Thanks.” Rye ran her good hand across her face. “Um. I didn’t
expect that you’d be – Yeah. I’d really like some help. But… um, I don’t have
much money. To pay you.”

“We have been engaged on your behalf by Ms. Flora Withe.”

He said more, but Rye wasn’t really listening. Flora hadn’t forgotten her. Flora
had absolutely no reason to do this, yet she’d thrown Rye a lifeline. The only
one Rye was likely to get.

“Ms. Woods? If you’re not feeling well enough to continue, we can return later,”
Mr. Summerbank said. “Have you been seen by an apothecary or doctor since you
left the infirmary?”

Rye tried to pull herself back together. “Um. No. I haven’t seen anyone. Except
you. You’re the first.”

“Uh huh.” Mr. Summerbank made a note with his gold pen. “I think we can arrange
to get you checked up. Now, Ms. Woods, are you aware of the proceedings being
moved against you?”

“Um. That agent guy said that Fairyland wants us extradited. Me and Holly.”

“Yes. A formal request for repatriation has –”

“Mr. Summerbank, where is Holly? What’s happening to her? No one will tell me
anything. Holly is my sister. My kid sister. She’s a minor. Sixteen years old.
Look, can you help her? Instead of me. She has to stay here. They can’t send her
back. You’ve got to do something. Please.”

“Miss Holly Woods is also subject to a repatriation request.” Mr. Summerbank
pulled a sheet of paper from his pile and slid it across to Rye. “She’s a very
pleasant young woman. Vervain here has initiated the process of filing an
application for refugee status for her.”

Rye glanced incredulously between the two men and the form in front of her.
“Already? You’ve talked to her?”

“Yes. I interviewed Miss Woods a few days ago, in the company of Ms. Withe.”

Rye stared at him. “She’s okay?”

“I think it’s fair to say that your sister is not unaffected by the current
state of affairs. But you need not concern yourself unduly, Ms. Woods. Holly’s
case looks very strong. She has some excellent references from her school. There
is every indication she will be a valuable and law-abiding citizen.”

Rye ran a hand through her hair. She couldn’t quite believe she was hearing so
much good news.

“Her brush with the police won’t have any detrimental impact on her case,” Mr.
Summerbank said.

Rye scowled as Mr. Summerbank told her about Holly being drunk in a carpet full
of kids drinking booze and smoking dreamweed. Rye wanted to give the kid a
shake. If she ever got her hands on her again – “Perhaps you’d like to read that
through,” Mr. Summerbank said. “If you agree with the application, we’ll need
your signature as Holly’s legal guardian.”

“Oh. Right.” Rye bent her frown down on the paper. “This will get her
citizenship?”

“If approved, yes.”

Mr. Summerbank offered Rye his pen. She had never held a gold one before. She
felt awkward trying to write her name with her left hand. The resulting scrawl
looked like the handiwork of an illiterate child.

“We’ll get that lodged immediately,” he said.

“How long will it take? Until she’s safe?”

“That’s hard to say. We’ll file for priority consideration in light of the
repatriation request.”

Rye nodded. “She has a good chance, you say?”

“That would be my assessment. There is another option that we have in Holly’s
case.”

“Yeah?”

“I was asked to broach this matter with you by Ms. Withe. She has made the offer
to adopt Holly, if other avenues fail, and only with your approval.”

Rye felt like someone had punched her in the stomach. “Adopt her?”

“Adoption by a citizen would confer that status on Holly.”

Rye ran a hand over her face. Flora adopt Holly? Sign over the responsibility
for Holly to someone else? It would be the ultimate acknowledgement that Rye
hadn’t been good enough to look after her. Holly had raved over the idea of
being adopted by Flora and enjoying the lifestyle that Flora’s money could buy.
Flora could give her everything Rye could not, even safety. That hurt.

“Ms. Withe was most adamant that this would be a last resort and only with your
complete agreement,” he said. “As I can’t see any possible reason why such an
application, with your consent, would fail, this guarantees that, one way or
another, Holly will evade extradition.”

Rye tugged at her hair as she frowned at the scarred table top. Holly would be
safe. That was the crucial fact here. For once, Rye had to forget her pride.
There was too much at stake. This wasn’t Flora trying to take the kid from her.
This was Flora making sure Holly would have the chance that Rye had worked so
hard for: a life free to do what Holly wanted. This wasn’t Flora slapping Rye in
the face with a thick wad of money, it was a stunningly generous offer.

“She… she would do that?” Rye said. “For Holly?”

“I have known Ms. Withe and her family for a very long time,” Mr. Summerbank
said. “Her offer is sincere.”

Rye frowned down at her lap and tried to blink back tears. She wasn’t wholly
successful. She roughly wiped her eyes. It was as if a grinding weight had been
lifted. Holly would be safe.

“Ms. Woods?”

Rye sniffed. “Um. Yeah. Look, I… I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe she’s
doing this. Yes. Of course, I’ll sign anything I have to for Holls.”

“I have the requisite paperwork here. It will be used only if it proves
necessary. But it would probably be best if we had it all ready to go should we
need to. Are you comfortable with that?”

“Yes. What do I have to sign?”

Rye felt a strange jolt when she saw Flora’s handwriting on the form. Rye was
never going to be able to repay her for this.

“Where is Holly now?” Rye asked. “Not in somewhere like this?”

“She’s staying with Ms. Withe. After your arrest and removal to the infirmary,
Holly called Ms. Withe from the police station. Vervain here attended Ms. Withe
on that occasion. The police agreed to allow Holly to be released into Ms.
Withe’s custody. When the repatriation papers were filed against Holly, Ms.
Withe stood as Holly’s guarantor and posted the necessary bond to keep Holly
from being sent to a juvenile detention facility for the duration of the
proceedings.”

Rye scowled down at her lap. Tears dripped from behind her fingers to spot her
yellow overalls. During that blank period, she had left Holly in police custody.
She had let her down even more badly than she had imagined. Rye had shattered
her life and Holly’s. Flora had picked up the pieces. Rye didn’t think she could
feel her failure any more keenly.

“Ms. Woods?” Mr. Vervain set a packet of tissues on the table near Rye.

She sniffed and grabbed a tissue. “Thanks.”

“Perhaps now we should turn to your case, Ms. Woods,” Mr. Summerbank said.

Rye blew her nose and listened numbly as Mr. Summerbank detailed the charges
against her.

“However, these are not our highest priority,” he said. “The government, Ms.
Woods, is staying those actions against you pending the result of the
repatriation request.”

“What does that mean?” Rye asked.

“It means that those charges won’t be pressed in the event that the courts grant
the Fairyland government’s request for repatriation,” Mr. Summerbank said. “Our
government has chosen not to hinder that action by instituting criminal
proceedings against you which might result in a delay to a possible extradition.
So, we need to concentrate our efforts initially in defending the repatriation
request. I assume, Ms. Woods, that that is the course of action you would like
us to pursue?”

“Yeah. I don’t want to go back. I’ll… I’ll do time in jail here. But I don’t
want to go back to Fairyland. Please.”

Mr. Summerbank nodded and consulted one of his papers.

“I have the formal request here,” he said, “and you’re welcome to read it. But I
can reduce the basis of their application down to three points. One, you are a
citizen of Fairyland who has never received permission to travel beyond the
borders of that country. Nor have you ever received naturalisation or other
permission to legally reside elsewhere. Is any or all of that correct, Ms.
Woods?”

Rye frowned down at her lap. “Yeah. It’s all true.”

“Have you ever applied for residence or citizenship?” Mr. Vervain asked.

“No.”

“Is there any reason that you didn’t?” Mr. Summerbank asked.

“Um.” Rye ran her hand through her hair. “I didn’t think I would get it. And I
didn’t think Holly would need it. I thought she’d become a citizen when she got
her wings and became an adult.”

“Do you have any particular grounds for believing that you would be refused
residence or refugee status?” Mr. Summerbank said.

“Um.” Rye bit her lip. Yes, there was a very good reason, but even now she
couldn’t admit it. “I’m… I’m just a labourer. I never had any education when I
grew up. I’m not the sort of person any country would want.”

Mr. Summerbank picked a page from his pile and slid it across the table to her.
“This is a copy of a statement from a Mr. Reed Bulrush, the head teacher in the
economics department of the Hollowberry Municipal School. He has endorsed your
aptitude and diligence in attending night classes over several years. Which also
demonstrates a commendable and desirable drive for self-improvement and
acquirement of skills useful to the broader community. And I have an affidavit
here sworn by a Mr. Radish Nuttal to the effect that you are a conscientious,
honest, and diligent worker.”

Rye frowned at him.

“We took these as background evidence to use in support of Holly’s application,”
Mr. Summerbank said. “We can use both, of course, in your own case. And if there
are others likely to furnish you with character references, that would help. Ms.
Withe has offered herself.”

On prompting, Rye suggested the owner of Pansy’s Fried Sandwiches, but flatly
refused to let the lawyers approach anyone from the construction company.
Working alongside the likes of Knot Knapweed, with his connections to Lichen
Street, would not be to her advantage.

Under questioning, Rye conceded that she had never had a bank account, credit
card, or paid income tax. On the other hand, she had never once had recourse to
a single piece of welfare aid from any government agency.

“Let’s move on to the second point in the repatriation request,” Mr. Summerbank
said. “That you kidnapped your sister, whom they name as Holy Word.”

“I did. I didn’t give her a choice.”

Rye explained how she had run away from the temple and gone back to the commune
farm specifically to take Holly with her. She omitted all reference to her
mother. Both lawyers asked her questions about the escape and what had led to
it. Rye could not tell them about Chastity or her punishments. Instead, she
mentioned the unpleasant living conditions at the temple and how becoming a bond
servant had meant she’d lost the right to own anything. In answer to their
questions, she admitted the humiliating truth that she had legally become a
non-person, and as such she would not have been allowed to apply to leave the
temple, let alone the country.