Page 13 of Winds of Death (War of the Alliance #4)

“It’s amazing.” Pip stopped to smell a few of the flowers as she followed Fieran through the greenhouse.

She recognized some of them, like roses, but others she couldn’t name.

She might be half elf, but she’d grown up surrounded by trains and mechanics.

While she could recognize and name trees, she wasn’t as familiar with other plants.

Fieran reached the outer greenhouse door and pushed it open, holding it for her while he stepped aside.

She strolled into the sunlight, the summer warmth feeling almost cool after the heat inside the greenhouse. Outside, the whole rooftop was one big garden with even more herbs and plants.

Fieran let the door swing closed and tottered off down a path that led around the greenhouse. “A few of the other roofs have been turned into spaces for various yard games, but Dacha and Uncle Iyrinder have been talking about trying to convert some of the other empty roofs into more green spaces.”

“That would be nice. Spots of green in all of this.” Pip gestured at the skyline of Aldon stretching before them, a patchwork of brick buildings, tiled roofs, and chimneys. “Not that I mind all the brick and stone the way some elves would.”

To one side, the city center had more green swaths, from the expansive back gardens of the nobles’ townhouses to the various public parks. Winstead Palace formed a large section of green amid all the brick, including a small forest, and the famous Kingsley Gardens created a patch of vibrant color.

“No. I don’t either.” Fieran turned into a small alcove formed by a rose-covered arbor shading a backless wooden bench. He lowered himself to sit on it with a stifled sound that might have been a groan, leaning the cane next to him.

Pip sat on the other end of the bench, leaving enough space between them that only their knees briefly bumped when she half-turned to face him.

This was it. She couldn’t put off this conversation any longer. Not that she wanted to linger in this slow misery of uncertainty, but she wasn’t sure she’d like the fallout either.

She hated this. Hated the person she became in moments like this. She could be so confident with a wrench in her hand, but the moment she had to deal with any kind of personal conflict, she quailed like a wilting flower.

Her chest tightened, and she stared at her hands in her lap, too cowardly to meet his gaze. “Fieran, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I distracted you. You were right. I shouldn’t have—”

“Shh. Pip.” Fieran gripped her shoulders, gentle and yet firm enough that she couldn’t help but peek up at him. His brilliant blue eyes held hers with an intensity she’d rarely seen from him. “It’s not your fault.”

“But I—” She couldn’t speak around the lump rising in her throat. She couldn’t break. Not now. Yet the tears building in her chest didn’t seem to be listening.

“No. No, Pip. Don’t blame yourself. Please.” Fieran’s thumbs rubbed the tops of her shoulders, a soothing motion that dragged her gaze back to him.

“But I demanded that conversation right then. I should have waited. I—” Her head was whirling, her chest caving in.

“And you wouldn’t have needed to demand that conversation if I’d handled things better from the start.

That’s my fault, not yours.” Fieran held her gaze, not a trace of a smile to his mouth.

“If anything, I was the one distracting you. As soon as I landed, I was back to standby. You were the one with actual work to do.”

“And I should have been doing it.” A tear trickled down her face, hot against her skin. “Not demanding a conversation.”

Fieran released one of her shoulders and brushed away her tear with the backs of his fingers.

“You couldn’t have known we were about to be attacked.

Our aeroplanes weren’t supposed to go back up until the next day.

Besides, we were talking for what, five minutes?

Maybe ten? How many aeroplanes would you have inspected in that time?

Keep in mind, you didn’t know an attack was coming. You wouldn’t have been rushing.”

She closed her eyes, mentally running through her inspection routine. “One. Maybe.”

Which aeroplane would she have inspected? In the chaos after the battle, she hadn’t heard if any other pilots had crashed because of mechanical failures. Perhaps no one knew, given how many had been shot down once Fieran had crashed. Had a pilot died because of her?

“And would you have had a chance to even fix any problems you found in your inspection?” Fieran’s tone remained comfortingly steady, keeping Pip from fully falling apart.

Pip swallowed, her throat rough. “No. I would’ve just noted problems but not fixed them. But I could have grounded any aeroplane that had a problem too serious to send back up.”

She’d never know if she’d sent a pilot into the air with a faulty aeroplane. That guilt tore through her chest, and she might have curled in on herself if Fieran hadn’t been holding her with one hand on her shoulder, the other now cradling her face.

“That aeroplane wouldn’t have been mine.

” Fieran’s thumb traced over her cheek. “My aeroplane was still on the airfield, and it wasn’t like the ground crews had been distracted.

Besides, even if you had inspected my aeroplane, you wouldn’t have caught a crack in the propeller unless it was visible to the eye.

You would’ve had to call over Mak or one of the elven mechanics for that, and that would’ve taken even longer.

Time we didn’t have. You did nothing wrong, Pip. Nothing.”

“Then why does it feel like I did?” The words were a rough whisper past the squeezing in her chest and throat.

Fieran gathered her into his arms, sliding her gently on the bench so that she was tucked against his side.

She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face against his shoulder, clinging to the comfort he was offering.

“We lost friends in the squadron. Our friend lost his leg. It’s natural we’ll feel guilty.

” Fieran spoke into her hair as he held her tight.

“But it’s a lie. My mama told me last night to take responsibility for what was actually in my control and let go of the rest. That goes for you too.

And you have far less to regret than I do. ”

Pip squeezed her eyes shut, two more hot tears leaking from the corners of her eyes to soak into the front of Fieran’s shirt.

Perhaps she wasn’t at fault. She’d done nothing wrong.

Yet that almost made it worse. It meant that even when she did everything right, she couldn’t protect her flyboys.

Her friends could still die. Fieran could still crash.

And there was nothing she could do to prevent it because war was terribly cruel like that.

No matter how hard they fought, how much magic they wielded, how brave they were in the face of the enemy, war would take and take and take, glutted on blood and death, never satisfied.

Yet war wasn’t an impersonal monster just gobbling up those caught in its unwitting control. War was controlled by those who had all the power and yet had to pay none of the cost.

What else could they do but keep fighting? If the Alliance lost, the Mongavarian Empire would expand into their borders. And that would bring nothing but pain to the people living in the Alliance kingdoms.

Pip tightened her grip around Fieran. “If I did nothing wrong, then you didn’t either.”

“Not according to the army, maybe.” Fieran’s sigh stirred her hair.

“But I still selfishly dragged Merrik into the Flying Corps without once stopping to ask him what he wanted, and it cost him his long hair and his leg. I was still rash that day, throwing myself and Merrik into that battle without even stopping to consider if there was a better way to go about it. I was the one to suggest attacking the gun emplacements, which provoked the Mongavarians to attack.”

“The generals rubber-stamped that attack. They knew the chances of retaliation.” Pip dug her fingers into the back of his shirt. “That’s not on you.”

“It still feels like it is.” Fieran rested his cheek on the top of her head.

“And I know there wasn’t time for me to wait for Mak or an elven mechanic to inspect my propeller.

It wasn’t like I would’ve known it needed checking, and there’s a good chance I might have been disciplined or worse for delaying while Capt.

Kentworth and his men were dying. But I still wonder… still think that if only…”

“We don’t know your propeller was damaged in your attack on the gun emplacements.

” Pip shifted, turning her head so that she wasn’t speaking into his shoulder.

“There’s a good chance your propeller wasn’t cracked before you went up the second time.

If that were the case, even having Mak inspect the propeller wouldn’t have made a difference.

You still would’ve crashed. It was all just a tragic accident of war. ”

“Yes, but if Mak had inspected it, then we’d know.” Fieran’s voice roughened, his arms tightening around her. “I’d know if there was something I could’ve done. If I could’ve prevented all of this.”

Then they’d both have a lot more peace.

Pip breathed in the scent of Fieran’s shirt before she exhaled slowly. She snuggled into the warm strength of his arms around her.

As she did, the painful tension inside her finally eased for the first time since she’d watched Fieran’s aeroplane fall from the sky. Maybe…just maybe…things would be all right.

After another long moment, Fieran shifted, making another of those groans of pain in the back of his throat.

Pip straightened out of his arms. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” Fieran’s gaze dropped away from hers, as he braced himself on the bench. His face went even more pale beneath the smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks.

“You don’t look fine.” Pip reached for him, but he scooted back along the bench until he was at the very edge. “Should I call Louise? Get you to the hospital?”