Page 48 of Tail Me No Lies
The ground grew uneven. He overcorrected, tilting too far to one side. Ruth’s arms tightened around him. The cycle hit a bump, sending them airborne. Nox hung in the air, his thighs squeezing the cycle and holding onto the handles.
The cycle landed with a bone-jarring thud. Ruth’s grip on him slipped and she was gone.
Nox slid to a stop, his heart in his throat. He dumped the cycle on the ground, unconcerned about damaging the vintage machine. He had one focus. Ruth was on the ground. Bleeding.
“Ruth!” He fell to his knees.
“I’m fine. I’m fine,” she said. She sat upright, her hands upturned and resting on her knees. Her palms were bloody. “I landed on my ass. Good thing I have plenty of padding.” Her laughter sounded strained and weak.
“I am not amused.” He inspected her damaged hands. Scraped and bleeding, bits of grass and dirt clung to the injury. “You need a medic.”
“I need soap and water. Maybe a soak in a hot bath.”
“I failed to heed your warning and now you are suffering. This is my fault.” His chest hurt. Physically hurt. What was this unpleasantness at seeing Ruth suffer the consequences of his actions? He didn’t like it and had a suspicion that this was guilt. Impossible. He knew of the emotion in theory but never had reason to experience it on a personal level. All his actions had been justified.
Until now.
“We’re both at fault. I got on the bike without a helmet. That’s on me. Frankly, I’m lucky that a bruised butt and some scrapes are the worst of it.”
He nodded. “You will never leave the house again without a helmet.”
“I don’t want to say you’re overreacting, but can you help me up? I’m going to feel it tomorrow.”
Nox did better. He lifted Ruth into his arms and carried her back the entire way home, despite her insistence that she could walk. She was incorrect. She protested that he should not leave Agatha abandoned on the side of the road. He’d come back later and fetch the cycle. He refused to set Ruth down until he could place her in a hot bath filled with soothing oils and salts. While she soaked, he carefully cleaned her injuries.
This was his fault. She suffered because of his cavalier whim. He loathed himself for hurting Ruth.
Never again.
* * *
“Here we are,”Nox said, turning off the engine.
“And no disasters.” Ruth climbed off, keeping one hand on Nox’s shoulder for support. “You were right. It was fun.”
“Do not tempt fate.” Nox watched Ruth for any signs of pain or lingering stiffness. Bruises had blossomed on her behind. For a solid week, she moved stiffly, though she never complained once. Too stubborn to complain. For two weeks, he noticed that she lowered herself carefully when sitting and that she preferred a cushioned pad on a hard seat.
Since the accident his carelessness caused, he banished the hypercycle back into storage. Clearly, the vehicle was there for a reason; it was too dangerous a mode of transportation.
One day, Ruth produced two helmets of the same vintage as the hypercycle but in good condition. She announced that he was going to take her on a ride to the southern field and he did not have a say in the matter.
With her satchel over her shoulder, Ruth entered the agripod. He followed. Waist-high grain was planted in neat rows of long, narrow containers. Sunlight filtered through the dome. The tops of the stalks had turned a light golden brown, though the base remained verdant.
She crouched, her head disappearing from view. Nox was not concerned. They had done this before both in the agripods and open-air fields. Ruth would take samples of the soil and clippings from the plant, and uproot entire specimens. She would walk the fields, selecting plants at random until she filled her satchel.
He did not mind waiting, even as the sun traveled across the sky to shine directly in his eyes. If anything were to happen, he’d rather be sweaty but close than comfortably cool and far away.
A shout came from deep in the agripod.
Nox rushed down a row, heading toward her shout. Frustrated, he pushed through the grain, the stalks lashing against his face and arms. “Ruth! What has happened? Speak to me.”
Ruth popped up, holding a stalk in one hand, a clump of dirt clinging to the roots, and a scanner in the other. “It’s beautiful.” She shoved the stalk toward him. Bits of dirt crumbled. “Look!”
He took the stalk, unsure how this was any different from the thousands of stalks that surrounded them. “It is very nice,” he said at length.
“There’s nothing wrong with it.”
“Yes. It appears to be…nice?” He had no idea what feedback she sought.
