Page 57 of Wings of War

“Not at all.” Fieran tipped his head to her, a nod of respect.

As she settled in more comfortably, Fieran held out his hands, as if he were holding a pair of swords. He spun on his toes, swiping his hands as if slicing with a pair of swords. His magic scythed the air instead, a crackling, consuming arc of power. As he spun and flipped, the amount of power grew around him, flooding the nearby forest. A few of the smaller plants shriveled and turned to ash, but the larger trees remained unharmed.

A stray bolt of his magic lashed out, and Pip poured more of her magic into her shield, bracing herself. As strong as she was, she wasn’t anywhere near as powerful as he was. Her shield would likely disintegrate under the force of his magic.

His magic struck her shield. Instead of clashing with her magic, the bolt skittered over her shield like lightning running over an iron rod.

Fieran’s eyes widened, and he yanked his magic back, stuffing it back under control in a blink. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. That didn’t hurt.” Pip reached out a hand, pressing it to her shield. It didn’t seem weakened at all. Instead, it felt stronger, as if his magic was threading through hers. “It seems that since your magic is similar to electricity and mine is similar to iron—as similar as raw magic can be to either of those things—my magic conducts yours rather than being consumed by it.”

“I’ve never seen anything like this.” Fieran held out a hand toward her, though his magic remained a mere simmer around his fingers. “May I test it again?”

“Go ahead.” Pip pressed both hands to her magical shield and steeled herself.

Fieran released a larger blast of his magic toward her shield. Once again, his magic curled and sparked over hers, threading her shield with crackling bolts of his power.

One of the threads sparked against her fingers, and she yelped, yanking her hands back.

“Pip?” Fieran took a step forward, his magic winking out once again.

“I’m fine.” Pip shook her fingers. “I just shouldn’t touch my shield while it’s supercharged with your magic.”

“Sorry.”

“Not your fault.” Pip removed the shield beneath her so she was sitting on the ground and no longer touching any part of the shield. A wet rear end was worth it to further test the way their magic interacted. “This is fascinating. Here, I’d like to try something else.”

She took a moment to craft what she wanted in her mind before she unleashed another layer of her magic, creating a second shield, this one arching over both her and Fieran. Safe beneath her shield, that left Fieran pinned beneath two shields. “I don’t know how much of your magic I’ll be able to keep contained, but you’ll be able to unleash more without having to worry about it this way.”

Fieran grinned, holding out his hands in a sword stance once again. Magic burst from him, choking the forest between her two shields until she could barely make out Fieran through the crackling storm of magic contained beneath her shield.

She gritted her teeth, her magic feeling almost hot and slippery. It didn’t hurt, exactly. His magic skittered over hers rather than fighting. But the more magic he unleashed, the more she had to struggle to hold on to her grip on her magic.

Yet she was doing it. She was containing the magic of the ancient kings. She’d never heard of anyone doing something like this before.

Then again, she’d never heard of an elf with iron magic like hers. Even the dwarves with iron magic couldn’t create this shield of raw magic like she could because they wielded their magic differently.

Finally, Fieran halted, and his magic burst into sparks all around him, the sparks drifting down around him like embers on a breeze. He turned to face her, breathing hard, his hands down at his sides as if still holding imaginary swords.

In that moment, bathed in starlight and magic as he was, he had the look of an ancient elven warrior, despite his lack of long hair and swords. Perhaps it was something in his eyes, that wild warrior light sparking in those brilliant blue depths. Maybe it was the graceful, dangerous way he moved, different than the easy, almost careless stride he normally had.

Whatever mild attraction she’d had to him that first moment she’d met him had only deepened over the past months, and this certainly wasn’t helping.

But Fieran treated her as just a friend, and she wasn’t going to make things awkward in the group by crossing any lines.

Besides, as soon as they both finished their training, they would be at the mercy of the army. Who knew where they’d be sent, and the odds were low that they’d be stationed at the same base again. In only a few weeks, they’d go their separate ways.

Fieran dropped his hands, some of the warrior look to him fading. “We probably should head back.”

Pip swallowed and dropped her shields. She pushed shakily to her feet. “Yes.”

Time to collect her thoughts, collect Merrik, and return to Fort Linder and the coming war.

Chapter

Eighteen

Standing before the hangar, Fieran pulled on the leather cap, then his goggles.

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