Page 71 of Wings of War

“I just need a moment.” Pip braced herself against the end of the beam, willing away the haze of weariness blurring her vision. Her throat and lungs ached from choking on the acrid smoke. Her eyes burned from the smoke and her unshed tears.

Something sparked nearby. Then a wave of Fieran’s blue, crackling magic slithered over the debris and lined each street and building, snuffing out the fires and consuming any smoldering rubble in the vicinity.

“Fieran.” She wasn’t sure if he was close enough to hear, nor did she have the strength to raise her voice to anything over a weak call.

Moments later, he stepped from the haze and smoke, a tall figure in army green, a few bolts of his magic curling around his hands.

Pip pushed away from the beam and ran to him, not even stopping to think before she hugged him. He was alive, he was here, and she just needed to be held for a moment, safe and secure in this city of destruction, despite the fact that they didn’t have that kind of relationship.

His arms came around her, strong and secure. It didn’t matter that they were just friends, and he wouldn’t mean anything by this beyond comfort on the worst night either of them had experienced.

Before she knew it, she was sobbing, and she didn’t even care. She couldn’t have even said why. Perhaps the stress. The things she’d seen that night. The sheer relief that both she and Fieran had survived. The fear for the friends who might be alive or dead.

He held her tight, his grip shaky and trembling around her.

She wasn’t sure how long she cried as they stood there like that amid the rubble of the city they’d both loved so much.

Finally, she gathered herself, sniffling her tears into silence. Swiping at her face, she pushed away from Fieran, not daring to meet his gaze. “Linshi.”

“Tiridari.” He returned her elvish thank you with a you’re welcome in the same language, though the meaning was less trite in elvish. He gestured toward the rubble-strewn road ahead of them. “We should keep going.”

It was all they could do.

As dawn blushed soft on the eastern horizon, Pip was stumbling with fatigue, both magical and physical. Beside her, Fieran, too, tottered as he put out fire after fire by consuming it with his magic. His freckles stood out even more pronounced as his already pale skin took on a gray pallor.

The morning light revealed just how devastating the damage was to the city. Everything looked so foreign to the Bridgetown she had come to know and love.

Instead of the bustle of a vibrant city, now there were weary people, wandering in mute shock, digging through the rubble, or standing beside still forms laid out on the ground, sobbing for the loss of loved ones.

Several of the monuments and statues she’d laughed over with Fieran were now chipped or missing chunks. The statue of King Rharreth on the corner was now missing its head.

In their favorite park, all the trees were cracked and broken, their trunks flopped over into the streets under the force of the blast. The soda parlor where they’d spent so much time was now a smoking crater, the bricks blackened, the stainless-steel countertop a twisted thing in the debris.

Pip just halted right there in the debris-covered street, too weary to even cry.

Fieran stood next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and tugging her close.

She leaned into him, soaking in his warmth, not caring if both of them reeked of sweat and smoke.

Marching boots echoed off the buildings a moment before a squad of soldiers appeared out of the haze. Their uniforms were far too clean compared to those she’d seen throughout the night, digging through the rubble or patrolling the streets to keep law and order.

Fieran snapped to attention, saluting the lieutenant leading the way.

The lieutenant saluted in return, sweeping a gaze over Fieran and Pip. His eyes were softer, more compassionate, than the hard control she usually saw in the army officers. “Are you from Fort Linder?”

“Yes, sir.” Fieran stared over the lieutenant’s head.

Pip tried to pretend she wasn’t using Fieran as a prop to keep herself upright.

“You’ve been relieved. Reinforcements have arrived from Fort Freilan.” The lieutenant gestured behind him to the clean and bright-eyed soldiers. “Report to the command post on Outpost Museum Hill.”

“Yes, sir.” Fieran saluted again before spinning on his heel.

Pip nearly toppled over with his sudden movement, and she staggered a step to regain her balance.

Fieran turned back toward her, reaching out a hand as if he wasn’t sure how to help.

She waved off his help, forcing her leaden legs to move once again. She might be tired, but she was still perfectly capable of walking the rest of the way to the hill.

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