Page 39 of Wings of War

Merrik turned his face to the sky for a moment, as if feeling again the breeze of flight on his face. “I did not think I would enjoy it, but…I do not know how I went my whole life without flight.”

Fieran’s grin faded as Merrik’s words registered. “You didn’t think you’d even like flying? And you still enlisted with me anyway?”

Merrik shrugged, not meeting Fieran’s gaze. “I could not let you enlist by yourself. We have always watched each other’s back, and I was not going to stop now.”

“Linshi.” Fieran found the elvish word for thank you coming out instead of Escarlish. There was just something extra meaningful in the elvish, especially for Merrik.

Lije bailed out of his aeroplane and strode toward them with a huge grin on his face and an extra bounce to his step. “That was epic.”

Fieran slapped him on the back, then the three of them strode toward the hangar.

As they stepped into the shadow of the hangar, Pip met them, though her gaze skipped over Merrik and Lije to land on Fieran. “I see you brought my flyers back in one piece.”

“Your flyers?” Fieran’s grin returned as he fell into step beside Pip. “I thought they were the army’s flyers.”

“Well, I’m the one keeping them functioning and in the air.” Pip gestured at the hangar, grinning back. Her curls were tied back in a high ponytail while her green coveralls weren’t yet stained with grease. “Me and the other mechanics, anyway.”

“Efforts I greatly appreciate.” Fieran didn’t want to think about falling out of the sky. Right now, he just wanted to ride the high of the flight.

This was what he’d been dreaming about for years. Flying.

He couldn’t wait to do it again.

Pip perched on the stool at the long, stainless-steel countertop in the soda parlor in Bridgetown and sipped her root beer float. The remnants of her chicken sandwich remained on the plate in front of her. It had been so huge she hadn’t been able to eat all of it.

“You going to eat that?” Tiny reached past Fieran and pointed at her plate.

“Nope. Go for it.” She slid her plate down to Tiny. The half-troll grinned his thanks, then picked up the remnants of her sandwich and dug in.

All around them, the soda parlor bustled with troll children getting sodas and elf families tying their bicycles up outside and coming in for a soda and sandwich to complete their day out in Bridgetown. A few people of all ages—trolls, humans, and elves—came in by themselves and got a soda, sandwich, or a piece of candy.

Even living at the far western edge of Tarenhiel where they interacted with the humans of Afristan and the dwarven kingdoms across the plains, Pip had never experienced a city like Bridgetown where trolls, humans, and elves mingled so freely.

She wasn’t even as short compared to many of the humans. She’d seen a few humans on the streets of Bridgetown who were shorter than her. Always an exciting moment for her when she was anywhere other than visiting her dwarf grandparents. There, she was one of the tallest people around.

Next to her, Fieran held up his bottle of raspberry soda. “A toast. To our first flights. May there be many more to come.”

Tiny, Stickyfingers, Pretty Face, and Lije all held up their glasses or bottles and clinked them.

Pip clinked her root beer float with Fieran’s soda. “And may all those flights land safely again on the ground.”

Perhaps it was her dwarf half, but she couldn’t quite understand the lure of the sky that drew these flyboys. She’d much rather keep her feet planted on solid earth.

“And to the mechanics who keep our flyers running.” Lije leaned forward to grin at Pip, even as he held up his soda bottle again.

The others echoed the toast, clinking their glasses again.

Fieran finished the last of his soda, then pushed his empty plate and glass away from him. He glanced at her. “Are you ready?”

Pip took one last sip of her root beer float. Her stomach was so full her skin ached from being stretched so tight and her lungs felt like they were crowded. She couldn’t possibly finish off the last of her float.

She pushed it away from her, then swiveled on her stool. She couldn’t touch the step bar, so she gripped the edge of the countertop and slid off the stool, taking the impact with her knees as her feet hit the ground.

Fieran held open the soda parlor’s door for her, and she nodded to him as she stepped through onto the busy sidewalk.

A few automobiles with shining fenders buzzed past on the stone street. Black, intricate lantern poles lined the street, the blue elven lights burning bright as dusk fell over Bridgetown.

Pip glanced both ways, then darted across the street, Fieran easily keeping up with her.

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