Chapter Twenty Two In Which a Door Is Closed #2
The small, windowless cargo hold had two small fold-out jump seats, equipped with what appeared to be two sets of jury-rigged seatbelts. Zada and Daphne sat and belted themselves in.
They were about to embark on something entirely new, but Zada still had unfinished business.
“Daphne,” said Zada as they settled in, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
Daphne blinked. “For what?”
“The way I cut you out of my life,” said Zada. “I never should’ve done that. And I never should’ve done it that way. You deserved better.”
“I did,” said Daphne slowly. “But so did you. I think I never let myself realize how much easier it was for me to stay out of trouble. I mean, just look at what happened to us. You were Counseled and all I got was a stern lecture from my grandfather. The people at the top think they should get away with everything, and that consequences are for everyone at the bottom.”
“I won’t argue with that.”
Daphne stretched in her harness to bump shoulders with Zada.
“It’s absurd. If anything, they should be under more scrutiny, but instead they go about breaking their own rules while they play with the lives of everyone under them.
It’s not fair, none of it is. And you deserve so much better. You deserve everything, Zada.”
“I don’t know about everything,” said Zada, but looking at Daphne, she was starting to believe the truth of it. She did deserve everything. They both did.
Daphne turned to her. “I should probably tell you something.” The fingers of one hand worried at the fingers of the other and there was the slightest shake to her voice. She was nervous, Zada realized.
“Only if you want to.”
“I want to,” Daphne said. “I owe you an explanation. Why I was so intent on looking into Heartsong.”
“I understand,” Zada said. “Your mother. I don’t blame you for that.”
“But I should have been honest with you from the jump,” Daphne said. “The truth is, my first inkling that the Heartsong program might be rigged actually came when I was fifteen.”
“Really?” Zada searched her memory. She didn’t remember Daphne acting any differently back then.
“It was right after we jellied the fountain,” Daphne told her.
“I was home on break. Grandfather gave me his usual speech about what a disgrace I was, how I needed to get my act together before I ruined everything, and then, uh.” Daphne’s hands stuttered to a stop.
“He told me something new. He said that if I behaved, he would personally see to it that you and I would be matched.”
“What? Why would he think you would want that?”
Daphne smiled ruefully. “Because Helena Neale had been spying on me. And she may be a ridiculous person, but she knew a crush when she saw one.”
“So all along,” Zada began, and Daphne nodded.
“All along,” Daphne said, “I was head over heels for you. I tried to get over you when we stopped being friends, but clearly, it didn’t take.”
“I wish I’d known,” said Zada. “Maybe I could have been honest with myself sooner. About how I feel about you.”
The ship took off then with a sharp lurch. The sudden momentum jostled them both and knocked Daphne right into Zada, who held her around the waist.
“And how do you feel?” said Daphne, twisting to see her, the beginnings of a smile on her lips.
Zada gave her a squeeze. “There is nobody else on earth I would flee the city with. I love the way you see the world, and I love how you move through it. No matter what happens, no matter where we go, I’m so glad we’ll be doing it together.”
The smile became a dazzling grin. “Likewise,” said Daphne. “And look at you, making passionate speeches like it’s what you were born to do.”
“What can I say,” Zada said. “I’ve always been a romantic.”
The ship intercom chimed. “Cockpit to cargo bay,” said Sister Patience. “We’re on the way out of the tunnels. New Ionia is in our dust, so it’s safe for you to come up here and catch your first glimpse of life on the outside.”
Zada unbuckled her harness and waited for Daphne to do the same. They carefully made their way to the door at the front of the cargo bay. It slid open automatically, and they walked down a long hallway to another door.
Daphne pressed the entry button to this one.
The doors opened again, and then they were standing in the cockpit.
Sister Patience and Sister Justice sat at a console, with a huge window above them that currently showed nothing but darkness.
The engines whirred away, a comforting hum in the background.
“It’s not much to look out until we hit open air,” said Sister Justice. “But sit tight.”
“Can’t wait,” said Daphne, and she took Zada’s hand.
Zada turned to look at her. You came back for me, she thought. And I would do the same for you in a heartbeat.
She realized then there was no reason not to kiss her. The nuns were occupied and they wouldn’t mind. All of the people ready to ruin Zada’s life because of who she wanted to kiss—they were gone. Zada and Daphne were free.
When Zada reached for Daphne, no music played. There was no sense of fate inextricably tying them together, and no guarantee that they would find perfect bliss with each other forever. But with every fiber of her being, Zada wanted to try.
“Hey,” said Daphne quietly.
“Hey,” said Zada, bringing their lips together. They kissed and kissed, until the outside world sprang into view, and they caught their first glimpse of the new life waiting for them, away from every creature comfort they’d been told their whole lives that they needed.
The land was lush and beautiful, and it was almost impossibly green.