27 A Good Sister Wouldn’t #2
After a few minutes, Spie stopped in a small glade, beneath the protective canopy of a massive red oak. She inhaled deeply, flooding her lungs with the crisp, calming, resinous smell of the woods.
“If you wanted to lure me somewhere more private, you could’ve asked,” Temmi panted, skirting around Spie to brace one hand against the red oak’s wide trunk, the other on a knee.
Spie laughed, moving to join Trash Girl by the tree trunk. She clapped the other woman on her shoulder. “Gods, I love it out here. It feels like the whole empire falls away.”
Artemis pulled herself to standing. She slapped at a bug on her arm. “I don’t know; I might prefer the empire to being eaten alive by insects.”
Spie laughed and raised both eyebrows. She pitched her voice low, suggestively. “You must be pretty tasty.”
Trash Girl flushed all the way to her ears.
“Also,” Spie said, forcing herself to look away before she tried to deepen that flush, “this is the best place on the grounds to birdwatch.” She lowered herself to sit between two gnarled roots and patted the space beside her.
“I thought, after you said you wanted to move your family someplace with birds, that you might enjoy seeing some birds up close. I know you’ve probably seen some flitting around the manor, but this is a better view.
I’m not an expert, but I did a little research on which types are native around here.
One common variety is called an Arthurian swallow.
It’s black with red wingtips and a crown that looks like flame.
You think that was the kind Ollie watched on the documentary?
They’re common to most temperate regions of Expan, including the outer territories.
” Spie glanced up to see Artemis staring down at her, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.
“What?” Did Spie do something wrong? The bird thing was lame, wasn’t it? Of course it was. Spie was terrible at this whole thinking about other people’s needs and wants thing. “It’s dumb, isn’t it? We can go back.” She started to stand up.
Artemis shook her head. Her hair was frizzing at the temples. “Go back? Are you kidding? This is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
“Oh.” Spie ducked her head to hide a blush of her own. “Well, don’t be weird about it, Trash Girl. They’re just birds.”
“To you, maybe,” Artemis said, lowering herself to the ground, opting to sit with her back to the trunk, her legs pulled up to her chest. “But to me? Two months ago, I thought I’d live and die without ever seeing one.”
Spie stared at Artemis, feeling something protective surge up inside her. She hadn’t realized until that moment the true breadth of the divide between them. She wanted to bridge it, wanted to understand, wanted to—
“Okay, so—” She scooted back so she was level with Artemis and tried to force her pulse to relax.
Their shoulders brushed, sending a pleasant shiver down Spie’s arm.
She pointed into the canopy across from them.
“There’s an Arthurian swallow nest up there—see that little bowl shape of twigs and leaves? The mom is flitting around inside it.”
Spie turned to watch Artemis search the trees. Her face was so close, her lips inches away. A slight dip of Spie’s head was all it would take to close the physical distance. The metaphorical one . . .
“Oh!” Trash Girl’s mouth broadened into an unrestrained grin. “I see her! She’s so fucking cute! Ollie would love this.” She threw out a hand to grab Spie’s arm in unselfconscious excitement.
Spie’s arm burned from the contact; her traitorous heart pounded in her chest. “Maybe we could send him a picture?”
Trash Girl jerked her gaze to Spie. Her grin melted into an expression of earnest surprise. Gods and nebulas, the woman couldn’t hide her emotions to save the world.
“You would do that?”
Spie raised one shoulder nonchalantly. “Sure. I’ll have my accountant send it to him with a message from you?”
Artemis blinked dumbly. “Yes, holy nebulas, yes. Um, tell him that I miss his fucking guts and that he better not be acting like a depressed asshole for Mom, and that I’m okay, and that I’m not going to come home until I win the whole thing.”
“Easy enough,” Spie said, then lowered her gaze to where Artemis still had her arm in a vise grip. “I will need my CB, though...”
“Oh, shit, sorry.” Trash Girl pried her fingers off Spie’s arm.
Spie connected her CB’s neural link to her visual field and pulled up the retinal camera.
She focused on the bird hopping about in its nest, blinking once to zoom in, blinking three times to capture the image.
It immediately populated in the air above her CB.
She took her device out of discreet mode so Artemis could see it.
“I’m not a photographer, but I’d say that isn’t half-bad.” Spie disconnected her neural link to better inspect the picture.
“It’s perfect,” Artemis said. “Ollie’s going to love it.”
“Great. I’ll send it to Haz right now.” Spie drafted a quick bridge to her accountant, including Trash Girl’s desired message.
“Done.” She lowered her arm back to her side, shoulder once again brushing the X-er’s.
At the open look of gratitude on Artemis’s face, inconvenient butterflies battered Spie’s stomach.
“You— Um—” Artemis cleared her throat, her face burning even more crimson.
“Thank you for doing that.” She relaxed her knees away from her chest. “It means more than you can ever know. Ollie and I have never been apart this long. Even when I was in lockup, he’d visit weekly.
I hear him in my head constantly. I wish he could be here.
He’d be obsessed with everything—would probably beg Blessing Stone to let him into the producer’s room. ”
“You’re a good sister,” Spie said softly. Then swatted at an encroaching fly. “Coming all the way out here for him.”
“He would’ve done the same for me in a heartbeat. I might be older, but it was never just me protecting him. It was always both of us protecting her—our mom.”
“You never really talk about her,” Spie said. “When I was in your apartment, waiting for you to come back, I tried to make conversation but—language barrier. I definitely got the impression she didn’t like me much.”
“She doesn’t like anyone.” Temmi laughed humorlessly.
“And she’s a hard person to know. She’s X-er through and through that way.
I don’t think she knows what to do with me and Ollie most of the time.
I don’t think we’re X-er enough for her.
She’s never said it, but I wonder if she regrets having us.
I have so few memories of her being happy.
But she’s been sick for so long now, and our lives have been so hard—I think maybe she feels guilty.
I know she doesn’t want to be a burden. She ignored her health for years, worked constantly, until it got so bad she almost died.
Her doctor said if she didn’t quit, didn’t start getting serious about treatment, she’d be dead in three months.
But did she quit? Nope. That’s when I left school.
Figured if I didn’t find a way to get a solid paycheck, she’d kill herself before she ever asked for help.
I’ve spent every year since trying whatever I can to keep her alive. ”
“That sounds exhausting,” Spie said. She found Artemis’s hand with her own. Squeezed.
Artemis exhaled, closed her eyes. Then reopened them. “I should miss her more than I do. Is it terrible that I don’t? I’m not saying I don’t miss her, at all; it’s just—I mostly feel relieved not to have to worry about her right now. That she’s taken care of.”
With her thumb, Spie gently rubbed the back of Artemis’s hand.
“I’m definitely not the right person to give advice on mother-daughter relationships.
Gracelin is a piece of work. But I don’t think it’s fair to judge ourselves based on feelings we can’t control.
Not missing your mom doesn’t mean you don’t love her. ”
Artemis nodded. “You’re a good sister too, you know. For what you’re doing for Nicky.” Her gaze dropped once to Spie’s lips before flitting quickly away, returning to the swallow across the glade.
Guilt grounded the butterflies in Spie’s gut.
She withdrew her hand from Artemis’s and scooted a hairsbreadth away so that their shoulders no longer touched.
A good sister wouldn’t be feeling the things she was feeling right now.
Scratch that. A good sister wouldn’t actively put herself in such intimate proximity with Artemis knowing she was feeling the things she was feeling right now.
But this moment wasn’t about romance; it was about friendship. And there was nothing wrong with being friends.
Silence stretched between them. The swallow in the tree took flight, trilling a pretty song as it banked across the glade. Selfishly, Spie yearned to extend this moment into—what? There could be nothing between her and Artemis beyond the friendship she justified their connection to be.
“Do you think you could do something else for me?” Artemis asked.
“Name it,” Spie said, too quickly, too tenderly. She cleared her throat.
“Since you have internet access, do you think you could see how I’m faring amongst viewers? You said being a villain isn’t a bad thing, but—I’m curious, I guess.”
Spie tapped her CB. “Easy. I’ll just run a quick search and—” A list of search results for Artemis Ialan populated in the air between them.
Artemis Ialan accosts Her Highness on X72!
Is Artemis Ialan even human?
Artemis Ialan’s favorite curse words.
Artemis Ialan and her special X-er powers!
Exclusive interview with Artemis Ialan’s ex-boyfriend, Scot Meridan.
Trash Girl gaped at the fifth link. Spie herself couldn’t stop a tickle of curiosity at the headline, but she doubted viewing it was a wise decision. But Artemis was already leaning forward, swiping her hand at the air.
“It only responds to my touch,” Spie said. “Here—” She tapped on the link, knowing it was a bad idea but doing it anyway. Which more or less summed up the majority of her life’s decisions.
A video populated in the air and immediately began playing. An interview between a popular Expanese talk show host and a boy with long, thin blue hair and a long, thin pale face. Spie paid attention to the video but paid more attention to Artemis watching the video. Gauged her reaction.
The host leaned forward in a comfortable armchair and addressed the blue-haired boy. “Scot Meridan, you’ve recently become quite the popular man, haven’t you? Can you tell us why?”
Scot shrugged one skinny shoulder. “People are suddenly talking about my home planet. Naturally, they’re curious about my people. But there aren’t a lot of X-ers on the Prop. Makes me rather sought-after in the current climate.”
His accent reminded Spie of Trash Girl’s. The same rough consonants and slightly butchered vowels.
Artemis looked like a person staring down their worst nightmare.
Spie hit Pause. “Maybe we shouldn’t watch this—”
“Fucking hit Play right now.”
“Your funeral.” Spie resumed the video.
“But that isn’t the only reason, is it? Come now, young man; don’t be demure with me. You knew—nay, dated!—one of the stars of this season of Love Galaxy . And not just any star, the infamous, villainous Artemis Ialan. Tell me, was she always, how can I be diplomatic about this—”
“Tactless?” Scot provided.
Spie hated him immediately. Across from her, Artemis’s eyes bugged.
“What you have to understand and what so many viewers don’t is that Artemis is young and uneducated.
She has a storied history of delinquent behavior—a juvenile record, even.
When we were together, her mother was grateful to have me around as a good influence.
I did everything I could to help Artemis, but.
..at some point, people have to help themselves, you know?
Honestly, considering where she came from, I think she’s doing incredible on the show.
I just don’t think it’s fair to expect anything more from her.
It’d be like expecting a monkey to do complex arithmetic. ”
“That’s very insightful, Scot. We’re lucky to have you with us—”
“And we’re done with this.” Spie shut off her CB.
Artemis’s breath hissed loudly through visibly clenched teeth. She stared blankly at the air where the projection had been, looking liable to commit murder.
“Hey, so, how do we think we’re doing?” Spie waved her hand delicately in front of Artemis’s eyes.
Was Spie half-expecting to get bitten? Absolutely.
But sometimes, that was what a person needed to do, and Spie was happy to sacrifice her fingers.
“If you want me to hunt him down, I’m happy to.
Captain Glossen can certainly arrange an ‘accident.’”
Trash Girl’s lips peeled back. She jumped to her feet and shouted, “FUCK”, so loud that more than a few birds took flight from nearby trees.
“Yep, yep, get it out.” Spie rose to her feet, taking a step back to allow Artemis some space. Also, maybe she didn’t actually want to get bitten after all.