Broken Wings Read Online Free PDF Page A

pushy if I invited
myself in for a drink?”
    “Um. I only have plain stuff.”
    “Marvellous. They served nothing but exotic non-alcoholic punches at that
gallery. My tongue is ready to disown me.”
    Rye smiled. She felt an air of unreality when she opened the door and led the
way along the short hall to the kitchen.
    The apartment stifled. The tree’s heating system was on the blink again. Rye set
her bags on the table and peeled off her jacket. She wished she could remove her
shirt, but settled for rolling up her sleeves.
    “Can I do anything to help?” Flora removed her sunglasses. She wore only light
makeup on her creamy skin. Even in the dingy setting of Rye’s kitchen, she
looked gorgeous.
    “Um. You did. You saved me twenty minutes walk. Sit down. I’ll put the kettle on
and tidy this stuff away.”
    “Couldn’t you shop somewhere closer?”
    “I suppose so.” Rye set pots of pollen and honey on a shelf. “But the stuff is
fresher at the market. And cheaper. You never get kowhai flowers like this at
the hypermart. They put something on them to make them stay yellow longer in the
store. This is what they should look like. Taste much better, too.”
    One of Flora’s green eyebrows twitched. Her interested stare sharpened.
Uncomfortable, Rye turned away to put her vegetables in the bottom bins.
    “Holly not home?”
    “She’s shopping,” Rye said. “She has to decide what to spend her prize money
on.”
    “You don’t go together?”
    Rye smiled. “She’d rather ask the doorpost about clothes than me. To be fair,
she’d get better advice that way.”
    Flora laughed.
    Rye grabbed two mugs from the cupboard. They were thick and mismatched. Still,
if Ms. Withe had not baulked at entering an apartment in Hollowberry, she
probably wouldn’t run screaming at cheap, ugly crockery. Rye gave herself the
mug with the chip in the rim. She hesitated over biscuits. Her willowy guest
looked more like the body-sculpting-at-the-gym type than the sort to eat junk
food. On the other hand, Rye wanted something sweet, and Ms. Withe need not eat
if she didn’t want to. Rye surprised herself by shaking a few biscuits onto a
plate rather than just plonking the jar on the table.
    “Holly seems a very nice young woman.”
    “She was,” Rye said. “Before adolescence. I’m hoping she will be again when she
comes out of it.”
    Flora smiled. “Do you two live here alone?”
    “Us and the damp patches. There’s no room for anyone else.”
    Flora drank half her tea like she really needed it and then helped herself to
one of the biscuits. Rye noticed she didn’t wear a ring, bracelet, earring, or
tattoo that might indicate she was married. Still, there were so many different
species, races, and religious groups that Rye didn’t pretend to know all the
possible symbols to indicate that someone was in a committed relationship. For
all she knew, dryads might marry several husbands at once and have children by
planting acorns.
    “Do you have any children?” Rye asked.
    “Me? Oh, no. But I hope to, eventually. Five or six, perhaps. Or seven.”
    “Good luck.”
    Flora smiled. “Maybe I’ll change my mind once I realise what’s involved. As an
only child, I have some rather romantic notions about large families.”
    “You’re welcome to borrow Holly for a few days as a cure.”
    Flora chuckled. “Have you been looking after her long?”
    “Eleven years. Not that I’m counting.”
    Flora’s green eyebrows soared. “You can’t have been much older than Holly is
now.”
    “Nineteen. It was the best thing I ever did. No matter how pissed she gets me, I
don’t ever regret it for a second. More tea?”
    “Yes, please.” She sat back in her chair. “Look, let me be honest. I was coming
to see you for more than just a cup of tea.”
    “Oh?”
    “I could’ve called, but I got the impression that the phone isn’t your best
medium of expression.”
    Rye blushed at the same time she self-consciously grinned.