Page 53 of Stalk the Sky

At least Fieran hadn’t been the only one causing trouble.

He let the conversation about the fighting bouts drift around him, watching as the talk perked up the rest of his men.

He’d have to tell them about the wreckage, and they’d take a moment to mourn before the storm lifted and the Mongavarians likely attacked.

But not just yet.

Chapter

Fifteen

Only a few hours before the fighting bouts were set to begin, Fieran sat with his back to the stone wall near the hangar mouth, hiding in the shadows as he stared into the pounding rain. After days of nearly nonstop rain, the airfield was nothing but puddles and squishy hummocks of grass.

Perhaps he should be catching a nap after the rough night. Or stretching out his tight muscles.

But he’d told the men about the aeroplane wreckage after lunch, and they’d raised a glass of troll mead to their fallen comrades, leaving two glasses untouched.

Perhaps it should have been three glasses. They still had no word on the missing elf pilot, but after this long, he was more than likely dead as well. Fieran hadn’t had a chance to know him as well as he knew the two pilots from Flight B, but the elf was still a part of his squadron.

With a whisper of boots on stone, Merrik walked around the aeroplane hiding Fieran from view. He slid down to sit next to Fieran, not saying anything. After a month here at Dar Goranth, Merrik’s hair was long around his ears, nearly long enough to brush his collar.

Fieran sighed and leaned his head against the stone behind him. “I thought I wanted to be in command. But leading is harder than I thought it would be.”

Especially when he took it in his head to do something especially reckless. Sometimes, the need to just let loose without a thought for the consequences was so strong he almost couldn’t help himself.

Almost.

Impulsiveness was no excuse for not thinking things through and controlling himself.

“Fieran.” Merrik heaved a sigh of his own, shaking his head. “Life has always been so easy for you. I do not know if you have ever been challenged in your life before now. You never missed a meal or had to worry about material things. You are smart enough that our university classes never truly tested you.”

Fieran grimaced at that. If he’d actually studied, he might have gotten perfect scores. But as it was, he did well enough without studying to graduate toward the top of the class. Why work for a few meaningless extra points?

Merrik continued, still not looking at Fieran. “Thanks to being the son of one of the owners, you got a job right out of university at the AMPC, a company with a waitlist of applicants. Most of those in our university classes would have begged on hands and knees for a job there, but you just took it for granted that you had one.”

“All things true of you as well.” Fieran winced as those words came out more defensive than he meant them to be.

“Yes.” Merrik didn’t flinch. They’d been friends long enough that perhaps he’d expected a bit of edge, pushing Fieran as he was. “But my parents were not born into wealth as your parents were. Not to say your parents didn’t face their own struggles. All our parents had far harder childhoods than we did.”

Also true.

Fieran was well aware that he had been rather blessed when it came to looks, intelligence, wealth, and the privilege of being born to royalty. No, he’d never struggled. But he’d never been given an opportunity to struggle. Everyone seemed to expect more from him because he’d been given so much, and yet he’d never found something hard enough to actually test his mettle and stretch his mind and skills.

As Merrik had said, everything was too easy.

Except perhaps morning practices with Dacha. Those were hard.

Basic training had come close to testing him. Yet even with how much the drill sergeants pushed him, he’d never reached his true limits. Did he even know his limits of physical and mental endurance?

“What do I do now?” Fieran slumped even more heavily against the stone behind him.

“You either break or you rise to the occasion.” Merrik glanced at something in the hanger before he lightly punched Fieran’s shoulder and stood. “Looks like someone else wants to talk with you.”

What? Who? Fieran wasn’t ready to speak with anyone else right now.

But then Fieran saw Pip standing there in the shadows of the aeroplane, shifting from foot to foot as if she hadn’t wanted to interrupt.

Never mind. Merrik was the absolute best wingman ever.

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