Page 59 of Swords of Soul and Shadow (Gate Chronicles #3)

He cursed loudly, but not loud enough to drown out the quaking of stone as one of the hovers dropped some sort of electrobomb on a part of the outer city to the west. Holy shocks.

He needed to get into that hover. He needed it faster than he could make it to the other side of the city.

By the time he did, everyone below would be buried under rubble.

His only chance had been taken from him, and he would never get to say goodbye to anyone.

It was his curse to sit and watch as his world crumbled around him.

He turned and shoved Eravin. “This is your fault. If you hadn’t told them about Loffler, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

For once, Eravin’s eyes were missing their cold undercurrent. He shook his head. “This wasn’t the plan!”

His shouts got lost when another hover blazed directly over their heads. Kase dropped so hard on the top of the wall that he nearly knocked himself out. His head buzzed from the impact. Eravin landed beside him, the whites of his eyes showing and staring directly behind Kase.

Kase pushed himself to his knees, his body protesting the movement. He turned and nearly blacked out once again.

A Cerl airship. Guns out. Pointed directly at his heart.

He was about to die. How kind of the pilot to give him a chance to say his last rites.

He glared at the cockpit, determined to face his final moments with as much bravery as he could muster. Stubborn to the end.

Only the ship was…

Empty.

No one was flying the ship.

Kase’s breath caught in his chest. It was his hover.

The one he’d stolen. How was that even possible?

He laughed, the relief stealing away the panic.

He lunged toward it, and miraculously, it popped open the top, hovering close enough to the wall for him to climb aboard.

Kase patted the side almost like a hunter would his loyal hound.

It was only slightly absurd, but after everything Kase had seen, he didn’t question it.

Eravin watched, shock elongating his features.

Kase turned back and held out a hand. “Come on.”

Eravin’s face turned nasty. “How dare you accuse me of working with the Cerls when one of their machines welcomes you with open arms!”

Kase gritted his teeth before shouting, “Just trust me!”

It was a harsh echo from three years prior, when he’d stood outside Eravin’s door…and his friend had shut it in his face.

Eravin didn’t take Kase’s proffered hand. Kase was unprepared for the sting of rejection it brought.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked. “About your mother. It wasn’t my intention, and if I could go back and change it, I would. But I’m trying to save the city and everyone in those tunnels now. I’m trying to do better. I’m sorry if you can’t bring yourself to forgive me.”

When Eravin shook his head, his jaw firm and unyielding, Kase closed the cockpit.

The truce might be over, but Kase had a job to do.

The ship rumbled, almost like a purring cat.

It was pleased. Kase smirked. It was almost as if the hover had missed him.

He was still struggling with the idea that the contraption had known Kase needed it and had come to find him.

He filed that terrifying information away for later analysis.

He strapped in and tugged the strange blanket across his legs.

The hover beeped a melody at him, and the steering control warmed under his palm. Kase gripped it tightly in response. The ship really was like a loyal pet. Maybe Eravin’s hesitancy was justified. He shook his head to clear it. He needed to get the thing up and flying ten minutes ago.

He found the blaster trigger—just aim and squeeze—at the top of the steering control.

Of course, it would be much easier if a second pilot was in control of that aspect, but alas, he had no choice.

Kase flipped a switch, and the hover responded with a loud, comforting hum.

With that, Kase was off, leaving Eravin on top of the wall, the gust from his take-off a parting gift.

Kase whipped through the skies after the other hovers, watching another drop a bomb onto a gaping maw in the landscape. He pressed hard on the pedals, his body going cold as he sped toward the threat. He squeezed the trigger twice as the bomb exploded.

Too late. Kase felt the punch in his gut.

His shots skewed wide, but whatever advantage he’d had before was gone.

They now knew he was a rogue airship. Kase cursed and whipped the ship around as the other turned and fired.

Without really meaning to, Kase rolled the ship left in a daring barrel roll.

He’d thought about it, but he hadn’t actually done it—he hadn’t moved his hands.

The shots missed, and Kase nearly puked from the pressure.

The ship. It had…it had just done what he’d thought.

Holy stars-blasted shocks.

Kase didn’t have more time to analyze what had just happened as another hover joined the fray. Kase had spotted seven originally; the others wouldn’t be far behind.

As a third joined, Kase stopped thinking through his actions and simply started doing, his instincts taking over, the ship responding with tenacious fervor.

He veered right, then left, then flipped over a hover.

He squeezed the trigger and fiery blue bolts lanced from his ship, spearing the enemy and bringing it down in a torrent of wind and fire.

Kase flew faster and higher than he ever had, his skin icy-hot, pressure bearing down on him as he climbed.

But the hover sensed when he was about to black out from the gravitational forces thrust upon him and readjusted itself without him lifting a finger.

They worked in perfect tandem as the ships below him teamed up to corner him in the sky.

Kase wouldn’t have that.

He whipped around and fired. The enemy hover dodged but clipped its partner’s wing. Kase’s throat and lungs burned as he gasped for every breath. The enemy hover listed sideways, smoke leaking from the hit.

Got ya!

Kase took advantage and sent his blaster bolts into both. He didn’t stop to see if they recovered or not. They would be on his tail in minutes, if not seconds, if they had—but three more hovers had appeared on the horizon, and Kase didn’t have time to focus on potentially defeated foes.

The ensuing firefight was something out of the storybooks, Kase and his hover the poets of the skies.

They whipped in and out, rose and dove, rolled and flipped.

They fired when another hover was in range.

It was as much a dance as it was a poem.

They tangoed in the air, giving and taking.

The rush of adrenaline was ablaze in his veins as he rolled and righted himself before firing at the tail of the final hover.

It erupted in flames, losing altitude in seconds and exploding on the city wall below.

Kase scanned the horizon, fear, exhaustion, and elation warring for a hold on his body and mind. Adrenaline still thrummed in his veins, and he was ready for anything they shot at him.

A blink on the horizon. Gold glittering in the midday sun.

Dragon.

Skibs.

Kase gripped his steering control. The hover hummed. He was ready. He could take on the dragon.

But could he fight Skibs?

He’d done it in the Gate chamber, and he’d lost. Hallie had been there to save him, but there was no one to save him now.

The beast’s great wings thrust up and down. It lifted its great head into the air and roared. Kase winced and recoiled against the guttural, piercing cry. Fire exploded from its maw, devouring the clouds hundreds of feet above.

Kase nearly dropped himself out of the sky. The hover kept him steady.

He’d just gotten close enough to barely glimpse Skibs on its back when the dragon turned and flew back toward the horizon.

Sweat ran rivers down his face, soaking his collar. The hover’s buttons sparkled and flashed in quick succession before humming once more.

With a shaking hand, Kase reached forward and patted the hover’s dash. “Good boy. You scared him off.”

Well, it did feel like a loyal dog. Kase had never had one before, but he thought he preferred a pet hover anyway—especially this one.

He searched below, lowering his hover to inspect the damage. Patches of blackened ground greeted him. Scraps of defeated hovers littered the road and caught city outbuildings on fire. Gaping, ravaged holes marred the surface. Bile rose in Kase’s throat.

Near the tree line, a crowd began to amass, bubbling up from one of the holes. He drove his hover toward them. His hands shook harder as the adrenaline started fading, the strain and the terror catching up to him. The blanket had slid from his knees during the firefight. The hover had drained him.

By the time he set the ship down onto the grass, he was shaking all over. The shock of it all, of his victory , rocked him to his core.

Had he saved them? Had he been enough?

He swallowed as he switched off the ship. Cheers met his ears.

Too much. The wave of sound made it feel as if he’d plunged underwater.

He fetched the blanket from the floor, warmth seeping back into his stiff, aching fingers.

Kase looked out the cockpit window at the gathering, the muffled words of the Jaydian anthem sung loud and off-key, but full of hope and joy.

He popped open the windshield and stood.

They probably didn’t realize for whom they cheered, that it was the criminal who had burned their homes three years prior.

They didn’t know that he was potentially the reason for today’s attack, that those who’d died were on Kase’s conscience.

But whether they knew or not, the triumphant joy was intoxicating. His eyes ached with unshed emotion. Regardless of whether the attack was his fault or not, he’d stopped it. He’d taken down at least seven hovers all on his own.

Maybe this was the start of his repentance. Maybe he could be forgiven.