War Bird

16. Just What They Make It.

As I approach the Medical Bay I can hear loud voices coming from Miss Ever's office. One is Miss Ever and the other... well I can't quite place it but I recognise it. It’s a man. An angry one, by the sounds of it. I walk up to her door, wondering whether to knock or not, when the door opens and I am hit bang-on in the face by someone's shoulder. After what just happened, I am still unsteady on my feet and I tumble backwards, landing painfully on my arse.

"Agh!" I roll over and rub my backside, as if that's going to stop any bruising.

"Oh, get up!" The man who walked into me says, offering an arm.

"Thanks for the sympathy, dickhead," I say as I use his arm to haul myself up off the floor.

"Charming mouth on this one." 

"Thanks, I grew it myse-" I stop. It's him. The Hawk with the Green Eyes who'd checked on me yesterday. "You're so tall." The words are out before I can stop them and I shake my head. Smooth Marla, real smooth.

"Feeling better I see." He chuckles.

"Yeah, loads, ta, I mean, thank you."

He looks me up and down, his nose wrinkling, and I remember I'm still covered in stinky poultice goo. Worse, it's making my top cling to every lump and bump. Piss.

"Captain Finlay." He extends a hand and I shake it. "Firm grip you got there." He raises a thick eyebrow.

"Speak for yourself."

Captain Finlay is clearly knackered, his tanned skin pale under that dark stubble. Those eyes are still green and lively though, crinkling like he's involving me in a secret joke. There's something about the way he stands, the way he holds that lean body all tense and ready like he could rip your head off without breaking a sweat. But he doesn’t scare me, in fact, he’s the first person to somehow make me feel instantly safe and I don’t know why that is. He's in the standard-issue trousers all the Hawks wear, but he's removed his jacket to reveal his vest, which is splattered with blood and dirt. There is a bandage tightly wrapped around his upper arm and his neatly cropped dark hair is all mussed up on one side by a fat plaster. His smile makes me think of home.

"Very well,” he says and I notice he's still holding my hand. "And what do they call you?"

"I’m Marla True,” I say and he drops my hand. "What? What's wrong?" 

"Nothing." He turns back to Miss Ever, avoiding my eyes. "I should be checking on my boys."

"Are your boys the ones in the Private Healing Rooms?" I say.

"Yes. Why?"

"I've just come from one of them. It's Grace. She wants a meeting." I look at Miss Ever. "She said you'd understand why."

"Of course. Tell her I'll schedule one immediately."

"We don't have time for meetings!" Finlay snaps. "I need you and your girls to be nursing what’s left of my team back to full health." He cracks his knuckles, ignoring Miss Ever’s wince. “We need to get back up there.”

"My Nightingales are-"

"Yes, trying their utmost, you already told me that!" He wobbles as if he's about to collapse, but he stretches an arm and steadies himself against the wall. "You didn't see what I saw. We didn’t even make it to the house, you hear? That family are still hiding, waiting for the inevitable-” His voice goes hoarse and he clears his throat. “We need more than elbow grease and a prayer to stop our people being wiped out."

"I understand, but we're learning more and more with every day." Miss Ever stretches her hands out, calming him.

"Learning more with every victim, I should say!" He jabs a finger at her. "Which is bully for you, you're all safe in here, but every day out there I'm losing men!"

"What did you see up there?" I ask him. He whips his head around. He'd forgotten I'm here.

"Why do you care?"

"Um, because some bitch in a bad mood magicked me here and if I'm going to die a crappy, mystical death I'd like to know now."

"Were you brought up in a gutter?" Finlay sneers. "Because the language you use is disgraceful." 

He might be possibly the best looking bloke I've ever clapped eyes on, but no one talks to me like that, for no real reason. If he wants to hear ‘disgraceful’ language, then I’ll happily give him some. I open my mouth to tell him exactly what a prick he is but he flaps his hand at me and turns back to Miss Ever. 

"Have your ridiculous, pointless meeting. But we need a plan that works." He flicks a look back at me. "One that involves only the best personnel so we can send that goddamned Traitor to the coldest hell dimension we can find." He bends, thigh muscles straining against his trousers, and picks up his bloodied jacket and hat. "Keep me apprised with regards to my men." He stomps out. I don't even get a backwards glance.

"What's his problem?" I ask Miss Ever. 

"He's the youngest Captain in the Hawks," she says, patting her hair. Their argument has obviously shaken her. "Not yet nineteen. If you knew his family... well, let's just say he has a lot to live up to. He's lost at least a third of his men these past few months alone."

"I get it, OK? Shit's going down, you're having to tie these men to the beds to keep them from attacking the Nightingales-" 

MIss Ever drags me into her office, her face tight. "Bite your tongue Miss True!" She whispers furiously. "I don't want my patients hearing things like that!"

"Right, right, I'm sorry." And I am. I might not want to be in this place but I don't want to make things worse for those who lie here bleeding.

"Very well, thank you. Now tell Grace we will meet in the boardroom in half an hour."