Page 46 of Lana Pecherczyk
“If only I’d used it to learn something more meaningful.” Blake’s joke fell flat, the self-deprecation tasting bitter on her tongue. Still, warmth bloomed in her chest at being believed capable of her mission, and having a purpose felt like solid ground beneath her feet.
“I wouldn’t call learning to sign meaningless,” Trix countered, eyebrows knitting together.
“Yeah.” Ada shifted the potted plant to her hip. “Don’t sell yourself short.”
“Oh!” Trix startled, reclaiming the plant with a nervous laugh. “I almost forgot. I made this for you.” She thrust it forward. “An appreciation gift.”
Blake carefully accepted the sapling and immediately tensed upon recognizing the pot, or rather, the vase. It was River’s stolen gift from the markets.
Trix’s smile wilted at Blake’s hesitation. “It’s not right, is it?”
“The vase?” She’d purposefully left it behind, refusing to accept stolen goods. But now that it rested in her palms, cool and familiar, she knew she wanted to keep it.
“I meant the eucalyptus.” Trix’s fingers fluttered anxiously around the plant. “I only had memories and a book forreference. I hoped the Well would fill in the gaps, but the leaves look wrong. I remember it smelling different when I visited Australia.”
“I don’t understand. You make trees?”
“Sort of. I can grow plants.” She waved her hand over the sapling, releasing that now-familiar ozone scent Blake associated with magic. Buds sprouted along the stem and unfurled into leaves before her eyes. “I made it with my gift. I thought you might be homesick. Since I can’t conjure kangaroos or Vegemite, maybe the scent of home will help.”
“You grew this?” Tears ambushed Blake, stinging her eyes and clogging her throat as she traced a leaf’s veins with her fingertip. “The detail is incredible. You’ve captured everything perfectly.”
She tried to hide how deeply homesickness had carved into her soul. But the dam broke. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and a choked sound escaped. Across the garden, River’s head snapped toward her, his brow furrowing.
“I fucked up, didn’t I?” Trix moaned. “I can take it back?—”
“No!” Blake clutched the plant protectively. “I mean … it’s perfect. It smells exactly like the eucalyptus tree from me old backyard.” From the house she grew up in. “Frommybackyard, I mean. I just didn’t expect…” She forced a watery smile and glanced between the two women, a foreign sense of connection unfurling in her chest. She’d never had girlfriends before. The other WAGs were competitive bitches, and there had been too many men in her life. “You cunts have been so good to me. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
Ada’s brows lowered. “Did you just call us the c-word?”
Chapter
Fifteen
Blake’s term of endearment felt like a live grenade with its pin removed.
Ada’s wary expression deepened as silence stretched between them.
Cultural differences had never felt so mortifying. What was an affectionate familiarity in Perth translated to nuclear-level offense here.
“She means it in a good way,” Trix rushed to explain, lips twitching with barely contained laughter.
“There’s a good way?” Ada’s eyebrows disappeared beneath her bangs.
“Ha ha.” Heat swamped Blake’s cheeks. “I guess you can say it’s reserved for only the closest or the worst of friends.” She paused. “You’re the first lot.” Another pause. “In case you?—”
“Got it.” Ada smirked.
“Thank fuck. I thought I’d put me foot in it again.”
Trix looked hopefully at Blake. “So you like it, yeah?”
At her vehement nod, Trix’s hands flew excitedly to sign for Aeron. “She likes it!”
His responding flood of sign language exceeded Blake’s vocabulary, but his pride in his queen radiated in the softening around his eyes and the slight forward tilt of his body.
River’s approach crunched gravel beneath his heavy boots, reminding Blake of their mission.
“I can’t magically heal or grow plants,” she told the girls softly, “but I promise I’ll do everything possible to find the right book to help you both.”
