Page 54 of Wings of War

“I still can’t understand the appeal of flinging yourself into the sky in a flying contraption.” Pip dropped a hand to her tool belt. “I’d rather fix the aeroplanes than fly them.”

“I’d rather fly them.” Fieran chuckled. But as he tipped his head to the sky again, the chuckle died in his chest. He stiffened. “He needs to pull up.”

Pip refocused on the aeroplanes in the sky. The latest one was attempting to land, but he was coming in too fast and too steep when he should have been leveling out for a gentle landing.

Her stomach clenched, her breath catching. Pull up. Pull up.

“Pull up.” Fieran whispered an echo of her mental chant.

The aeroplane attempted to pull up, but it was too late. The flyer tipped to the side, its wing striking the ground. The whole aeroplane flipped and tumbled, even as the wings shredded on impact. The wreckage settled in a cloud of dust, the figure of the pilot limp inside the cockpit.

“No.” Fieran raced forward, his magic twining over his fingertips.

Pip wasn’t sure what he planned to do, but she sprinted after him, calling up her own magic.

The ground crew dashed after her, quickly passing her with their longer legs.

Fieran reached the flyer first, clambering over the wreckage to reach the pilot.

Pip was still a few yards away when Fieran’s head hung, his shoulders slumping, telling her all she needed to know. She slowed to a walk, her feet leaden as she crossed the remaining space to the downed aeroplane.

The ground crew shoved Fieran out of the way, swarming around the dead flyboy. One of them glanced over his shoulder, then pointed at the front of the flyer. “Pippak, secure the magical power cell. The last thing we need is that exploding.”

She nodded. At least the order gave her something to do. She headed for the crumpled nose of the aeroplane, keeping her head down to avoid seeing the pilot’s body. At the nose, the hatch was so mangled that she had to use her magic to pry it apart.

Once she had the hatch open, she inspected the engine. The magical power cell still glowed faintly blue, and it didn’t appear to be cracked.

There was no reason to waste time with a wrench, especially since they wouldn’t reuse these parts without a thorough overhaul first. She pressed her hand to the plate and bolts that held the magical power cell in place and poured her magic into the steel. The steel melted into her hand, flowing as if it were water instead of metal. With her other hand, she twisted the magical power cell to loosen it before pulling it free.

Fieran joined her, his jaw hard, all traces of humor vanished from his eyes.

She inspected the magical power cell before she held it out to him. “I don’t think this is damaged, but do you see anything concerning?”

Fieran took the magical power cell and turned it over in his hands several times. The magic inside leapt at his touch. Was that his magic inside the power cell? After a moment, he handed it back to her. “It isn’t damaged.”

His gaze trailed back to where the ground crew was working. Left unsaid was the fact that the aeroplane’s pilot hadn’t been so lucky.

Pip rested a hand on his arm. “Did you know him well?”

“He’s Stevens.” Fieran shook his head, his gaze falling back to her. “He has—had—the top bunk across the way. Next to Stickyfingers. He…” His voice trailed off, rough and strained.

Pip remained next to him, not sure what else to say. Perhaps there were no words for something like this.

Fieran lifted the black, wide end of the telephone and held it to his ear, the cord trailing to the large wooden box where the telephone’s receiver was mounted.

The operator’s cool, professional tone rang in his ear. “Operator. Where are you calling?”

“Treehaven House, Greenton, Escarland.” Fieran wasn’t sure if Dacha had returned to Escarland or if the family was currently in Estyra to celebrate Dacha’s birthday a few days ago. But Escarland was the easiest place to start.

It took several minutes for the operators at all the connecting hubs to plug in the correct wires and the telephone to finally ring through to Treehaven.

“Hello, Treehaven House.” Mama’s voice rang tinny through the line due to the distance, the crackle nearly obscuring her cheerful tone.

“Hello, Mama.” Fieran leaned more heavily against the wall next to the telephone. He quickly added, “Don’t call for the others. Just Dacha.”

“Fieran? Is everything all right?” Mama’s tone changed, though it was hard to absorb the comfort of her voice through the crackling telephone line.

“I’m fine. Merrik is fine.” That was all he was allowed to tell her.

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