Page 2 of Fly to Fury (War of the Alliance #3)

“Yeah.” Pip’s shoulders slumped still further. She swung her legs, her gaze on the hangar rather than on him. “I guess it was foolish to think I could rig something like this. Surely if it were possible, your dacha or Lance Marion would have invented it by now.”

“Maybe, though they’ve had the army and manufacturing industry demanding dozens of items leading up to the war.

Nor do either of them have the experience fighting with aeroplanes that we have.

You’re not foolish for the attempt.” Fieran wanted to touch her.

Rest a hand on her knee since he couldn’t reach her shoulder.

Or, better yet, put an arm around her and hold her close.

But he’d refused that privilege. So instead he turned to the aeroplane and inspected the wire running along the side. When he touched it, he sensed the hum of her iron magic reinforcing it. His magic leapt in his chest, as if it was as attracted to her magic as he was to Pip as a person.

Her idea was far from foolish. He did his best to protect his men in battle, but it was hard enough stretching his magic over his own aeroplane without incinerating it. For the others, he usually created a stream of magic they could shelter behind.

“Actually…” Fieran let a trickle of his magic out and sent it along the wire.

It eagerly leapt along it, following the th read of Pip’s magic.

He stretched his magic more, letting it curl around the aeroplane with the wires as anchoring points.

“It’s not quite what you had in mind, but what if actively controlled magic is the key?

I can hold this far easier than I can coating my aeroplane directly. ”

Pip straightened, the spark returning to her eyes. “Could you protect the whole squadron like this?”

“I don’t know.” Fieran cut off his magic, the crackle vanishing into sparks that fizzled out.

“I haven’t been able to coat anyone else’s aeroplane directly.

As you said, it’s too fiddly, especially during battle.

There isn’t time to do anything before we leave tomorrow, but once we arrive at Fort Defense, you can start by rigging something like this on my aeroplane.

Merrik’s too. Once we get the configuration right and test if I can hold it on someone else’s aeroplane, then you can add it to the rest of the squadron. ”

Or, at least, Flight B. Fieran wasn’t sure how many of the elves of Flight A would be open to it. Aylia certainly would, as would the warriors who held his dacha in high regard.

The other stuffier ones…they’d follow Lt.

Rothilion’s lead. While Fieran and Lt. Rothilion had called something of a truce after Fieran saved the elf lieutenant’s life—and Rothilion had chosen rather inexplicably to remain in the squadron—Fieran still wasn’t sure where they stood or how far Rothilion would back him.

Pip hopped from the engine compartment to the top of the ladder, then climbed down to the floor. “Do you often use Merrik as a test subject?”

“What am I being used as a test subject for?” Merrik’s voice echoed in the hangar a moment before he stepped around the tail of the aeroplane, coming from the direction of the stairway and the lifts that led deeper into Dar Goranth .

In their time at Dar Goranth, his chestnut hair had grown back to nearly a proper elven warrior length, and it now lay down his back over the olive green of their uniform. With his pointed ears, pale complexion, slim build, and long hair, one would never guess Merrik was only half-elf.

“The utterly casual way you ask that answers my question.” This time, the glare Pip sent Fieran’s way was more exaggerated than real. “Just what have you put poor Merrik through?”

Merrik snorted as he halted on the other side of the ladder from Fieran. “All of the broken bones I have ever gotten have been your fault.”

“Hey, they weren’t all my fault. Or only my fault.” Fieran crossed his arms, fighting his grin. “It’s more like the two of us are Louise’s test subjects. How many bruises did we each get trying to rig the zip line back home while she and Bennett took notes?”

Bennett, Uncle Lance and Aunt Illyna’s oldest, had taken after his father when it came to having a head for inventions. Since he was closer to Louise’s age than Fieran’s, Fieran had never been as close to him as he was to Merrik.

“I seem to remember you broke your nose.” Merrik gestured at Fieran’s face.

Right. Face-planting into a tree did that. Good thing there was always an elven healer a short trip into Aldon away.

“There are times I’m surprised you survived childhood.

” Pip shook her head before she turned to Merrik and gestured at the wire.

“I’m trying to rig a way to use Fieran’s magic to better protect the squadron.

I can’t seem to get it to work hooked up through the magical power cell, but Fieran thinks he might be able to actively wield his magic along the wires. ”

“But it will take some testing.” Merrik gave a decisive nod that was agreement to the testing plan as much as it was a general agreement with the idea.

Fieran worked to keep his smirk hidden as he regarded Pip. “I’m sure my dacha would be very impressed with the idea.”

Pip’s face washed pale beneath her light brown skin, her eyes widening.

Merrik’s grin took on a mischievous glint as well. “Uncle Farrendel would probably want a demonstration.”

At the mention of Dacha’s name, Pip’s whole body went rigid. She might have even stopped breathing.

He wasn’t sure if teasing Pip about her hero worship of his dacha was a touch mean or a necessary tool to help her work through her paralysis before they arrived at Fort Defense, and she came face-to-face with her hero.

“Breathe, Pip.” Fieran gripped her shoulders, giving her a slight shake.

Pip shuddered as she dragged in a breath.

Then she covered her face with her hands.

“I can’t believe we’re going to be stationed at the same military base as your father.

” She peeked through her fingers at him, her voice almost desperately hopeful.

“It’s a large defensive fort. Maybe I won’t even see him? ”

“I’m his son. If you’re near me, I doubt you’ll be able to avoid running into him a time or two.

” Fieran rubbed his thumbs over the tops of her shoulders, the canvas of her coveralls rough beneath his skin.

He shouldn’t appreciate the strength of her muscles or think of how right it felt offering her comfort.

They weren’t in a relationship—because of him—and this moment was supposed to be about comforting her, not about his attraction to her.

“Besides, is avoiding him really what you want?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Pip’s voice rose on the last word as she dropped her head into her hands again. “Ugh. I’m going to make such a fool of myself in front of him.”

“It’ll be fine. You’ll see.” Fieran forced himself to drop his hands to his sides. “I’ll make sure I’m with you when you meet him.”

He could keep that promise easily enough. Besides, Dacha would be just as tongue-tied as Pip. Fieran needed to be present for both of their sakes.

It would be good to see his dacha again. Not to mention once again have access to telephone calls home to actually speak with his mama and siblings.

A pang shot through him at having to leave Dar Goranth. He hadn’t expected he’d come to love this rugged northern island as much as he did.

Yet he had no one left to say farewell to here.

Aunt Melantha and Sontar had returned to Kostaria along with the first ships filled with the wounded from the Battle for Dar Goranth.

Both Rokyd and Lucien had healed from their wounds and shipped out on their new assignments a few days ago.

Sathrah’s airship had returned to its patrol along the coast. Uncle Julien and Aunt Vriska had also left, though Fieran would likely see them again at Fort Defense.

Time for Fieran to ship out as well. He would miss Dar Goranth’s windswept shores and restless seas. But he was ready to return home to Escarland to fight at his dacha’s side. Well, over his dacha’s head.