Page 12 of Wings of War

Dacha made a noncommittal murmur of agreement, his gaze fixed on the letter. He would be the most interested in the official paperwork side of things. “What does the king have to say?”

Pip wedged her grease-stained finger beneath the pristine white flap of the envelope and peeled up the seal. Once open, she dug out the thick piece of paper and unfolded it, quickly scanning it. “It basically repeats what that official said, though it adds that if I agree, I’m to report to Aerodrome D at Fort Linder outside of Bridgetown in a month to begin training with the latest aeroplanes with the Escarlish Flying Corps. Since I know Escarlish, I’ll be training with the EFC, though I’ll technically be on loan from the TFC. Once trained, I would be sent wherever I was needed at any of the aerodromes across all three Alliance Kingdoms.”

The letter also listed her accommodations and pay. The pay was comparable to what she was making now, though living in military barracks would be a downgrade.

Why was she even considering this enough to compare living quarters? She had no reason to even think about taking up this offer.

It wasn’t like she had any strong feelings one way or another about the possible war with Mongavaria. Here at the far western side of Tarenhiel, the Mongavarian Empire seemed so far away. Even if war broke out, it would change their life here very little, except that demand for dwarven iron would go up and a few of their workers might leave to volunteer.

Dacha nodded, his mouth still in a grave line. “I see. I do not think we can dismiss this lightly.”

Muka gave a harrumph. “The offer might have come from the king, but you are under no obligation to agree. In the event of war, our railyard will be more important than ever. A war will demand iron from the dwarven mountains at a prodigious rate. All our workers will be exempt.”

“Perhaps, but I am not sure Pippa will be included in that number.” Dacha’s gaze settled on her in a way that held an added weight. “Certified mechanics are rare. Especially ones with magic like hers who also have a degree from Hanford University. The king or his officials might deem Pippa to be more useful elsewhere. A mechanic without her degree could do her job here just as well.”

“I could find myself drafted into a war effort regardless of what I choose now?” Pip swallowed and stared down at the letter in her hands. The king had always seemed so far away. It seemed unthinkable that he had such power over her life that she could find herself drafted into the war against her will.

At least if she went willingly now, the Mechanics Auxiliary was currently considered a civilian contractor unit. She wouldn’t be officially in the army, even if she would be more in the army than a regular civilian.

“Perhaps. I do not know if it will come to that. We may not even go to war, as likely as a war looks at the moment.” Dacha’s gaze dropped to the letter in her hand rather than continuing to meet her eyes.

“Nor does that mean you have to go now.” Muka tapped her fingers against her hammer. “If there is a war and if you’re drafted into these auxiliary mechanics, then we can worry about it.”

Pip nodded, folded the letter, and tucked it into one of the large pockets of her coveralls. “You’re right. No reason to leave now.”

Then why did her heart sink at that?

Pip nestled into a crook of the branches that formed the roof of her family’s home on one side of the western rail terminal. At this time of night, a cold breeze wafted up from the Milnissi River, stirring her hair and bringing with it the thick, wet scents of mud and algae. A liquid sheen of moonlight skimmed across the water’s surface, while in the distance, a train’s whistle carried on the breeze.

She tugged a blanket tighter around her shoulders. Her hair remained slightly damp after her shower, and the temperatures were rapidly falling as the night deepened. At least her clean coat and coveralls kept most of her protected from the cold and the jabbing sticks of the roof.

With a grunt, Mak clambered up the last few feet of the wall and leveraged himself into the nook beside her. “Thought I’d find you up here, Pipsqueak.”

Pip rolled her eyes and elbowed him. The childhood nickname—both a play on her name and a reference to her stature—was somehow both endearing and annoying. It would be nice if her brother stopped, but she also didn’t know what she’d do if he did. “I’m just getting a bit of fresh air. That official sure was something today, wasn’t he? All pompously expecting I’d leap at the chance to get out of here. But I’m not going to go. Don’t worry.”

Mak nodded, drawing up one of his long legs and resting his arm on his knee. “Actually, I think you should go.”

“What?” Pip swiveled to better face him. “Why?”

“Your magic is too great to be wasted out here.” Mak shrugged, pulling out a piece of wood and one of his carving knives. “That’s why you went all the way to Hanford University, after all. I’ve never seen you quite as happy as when you were studying there.”

“I’m happy here. This is home.” Pip gestured at the railyard.

“Oh, sure. It will always be home. Doesn’t mean you have to stay forever.” Mak tapped his knife against the piece of wood, starting a rhythm. “After all, Muka left home for Dacha. You are free to pursue your magic or mechanics or whatever you wish. We’ll be sad to see you go, but we also want what’s best for you.”

“But I can’t leave you short-handed. And do you really want me volunteering to be part of a war, if war does come?” Pip scrubbed her hands on the front of her coveralls.

“Well, I don’t really like the idea of you caught in a war. You’re my little sister, after all.” Mak grinned and leaned his elbow on her shoulder. “Emphasis on little.”

Pip groaned and shoved his arm off her. “Mak.”

His grin dropped. “But Dacha was right. You might not be given much of a choice. I might not either. Trained mechanics will be scarce, and if there’s a war, the officials might not care about leaving this particular railyard shorthanded if young and trained mechanics are needed elsewhere.”

Pip swallowed, her heart aching at the thought that both her and her brother could be drafted into the war.

If the war came. It was all the rumors in the papers, but that didn’t mean it would actually happen. The papers were known to hype up the smallest thing.

“But even beyond the war, I have another reason for thinking you should go.” Mak gestured from her to their perch. “You want to go. You wouldn’t be up here so torn if you didn’t. You would have flat-out refused. You’re as stubborn as Muka.”

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