Page 33 of Wings of War

“This is Donkyn, but everyone calls him Tiny.” Fieran gestured to the troll.

Tiny nodded to her, then spoke in a voice that was both a little rough and surprisingly high pitched, given his breadth. He used the trolls’ dialect of elvish. “Elontir, Pip.”

“Elontiri, Donkyn.” She responded in elvish, glad for the excuse for the smoother words to roll off her tongue. She could speak Escarlish just fine, but there was just something about elvish.

Grinning, Fieran pointed at the beanpole young man. “That’s Elijah, but he goes by Lije.”

Lije waved, though he glanced from her to the nurse sitting on his lap as if he still wasn’t sure what to do with his hand once he was done waving.

“The flirtatious one over there is Pretty Face.” Fieran indicated the all-too-handsome young man.

Pretty Face grinned and winked at her.

“And this here is Stickyfingers.” Fieran nudged the one young man who had been left standing. The young man was only about half a foot taller than her, which made him on the shorter side compared to the other young men. “Stickyfingers is harmless, but don’t let him get too close to your valuables.”

Stickyfingers gave her a smile, which showed off his slightly brown and crooked teeth. But the smile itself was genuine. “I don’t pickpocket friends.”

“That’s not as reassuring as you think it is.” Lije grimaced, side-eyeing Sticky around the nurse sitting on his lap.

The other young men, nurses, and secretaries took to introducing themselves and each other, and that took most of the drive to Bridgetown.

By the time they rumbled across the stone-paved streets of Bridgetown, those in the truck had started to form groups with various plans for touring the city.

Todd pulled the truck into one of the parking spots along a side street. He opened the window again. “Listen up. I need to have this truck back by 19:00. So if you aren’t back here by 18:00, you’re going to be left behind in Bridgetown. Got it?”

With a few murmurs and sarcastic replies, everyone piled out of the truck.

As the others drifted off, Pip glanced between the groups of others and where Fieran gathered with Merrick, Lije, Tiny, Stickyfingers, and Pretty Face. Should she stick with one of the groups that had some of the other nurses and secretaries? She had gotten to know the other girls, but she wouldn’t call herself friends with them yet. She stood out, as the only non-human and the only mechanic.

But she couldn’t exactly call Fieran a friend either. Did she really want to be the only girl in a group of guys?

Probably, as long as that handsome one, Pretty Face, didn’t get too annoying. Nor Stickyfingers make a try for her money. Then again, if they did, that was what her head-bashing wrench was for.

Fieran gestured to her, flashing that genuine, friendly smile. “Pip, are you coming?”

With one last glance at the group where Chelsea had looped her arms with those of two of the flyboys, Pip hurried to join Fieran. “Where are we going?”

“We were just deciding that.” Fieran waved as he spoke, including the full group. “Any place in Bridgetown you’ve always wanted to see?”

“The Outpost Museum.” The words popped out before she’d even thought them through.

Fieran stiffened, the smile dropping from his face. Merrik gave a soft snort, turning slightly away.

“Yes, I’ve always wanted to see that museum!” Lije’s eyes widened.

“A museum?” Pretty Face’s lip curled. “We’re on leave for the first time, and we’re going to spend our day in a museum?”

“Maybe girls would like you more if the space in your head behind that pretty face wasn’t so empty.” Pip raised her eyebrows at Pretty Face. Teasing him came rather naturally, like he was just another one of her fellow mechanics at the western rail terminal or at the hangar.

“Ooh, ouch!” Stickyfingers bumped Pretty Face’s shoulder.

“Good one.” Lije grinned at Pip, holding out his hand for her to slap, which she did.

Pretty Face stroked his chin, as if contemplating that. “Perhaps you’re right. I need to be more than a pretty face. I should practice a few more cerebral pursuits. Be the complete package of looks and intelligence.”

“Sure.” Pip drew out the word.

Despite his protests about the museum and comments that were somewhat less than appropriate at times, Pretty Face was here with Fieran’s group. He could have gone off with one of the clusters of flyboys and nurses. He could have drifted away into Bridgetown by himself to get into whatever mischief he desired.

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