Page 55 of Stalk the Sky

Fieran met her gaze, then dropped his hands, the battle light snuffing from his bright blue eyes. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have let so much of my magic loose.”

“It’s all right.” Pip swiped a sweaty strand of her hair behind her pointed ear. “It was good practice for me too. Each time we practice together, I’m able to hold back more of your magic.”

“Still, I’ll try to be more aware of not pressing quite so close to your limits next time.” Fieran strode toward her, his shirt showing a few patches of sweat that stuck the fabric tighter to his chest.

Pip swallowed and focused her gaze squarely on his face. In her defense, his chest was a bit more eye level for her than his face. Well, more like his abs were face level for her, but she was not going to think about his abs. Which were undoubtedly well-defined beneath his shirt.

Nope. Not doing it. Focus on something else. Not his abs. Not his muscles.

Pip cleared her throat. “I wonder if it would be possible to create a shield for Dar Goranth by combining our magic.”

There. Something scientific and logical. Not at all charged like the moment before.

“Like the Wall?” Fieran fell into step with her. “I think my uncles and my dacha considered making several smaller Walls around principal cities. But it was eventually discarded because the Wall can make taking certain goods in and out rather tricky. A good thing along the border, but not as convenient inside of Escarland or Tarenhiel.”

“Yes, sort of. But I was thinking one that could be turned on and off rather than just going off when triggered.” Pip gestured between the two of them, her heart rate calming with the more comfortable discussion of inventions and magic. “A large wire infused with my magic could be set up or buried around Dar Goranth. The wire could then be hooked up to a bank of magical power cells with your family’s magic. When there was an attack, a switch could be flipped to turn it on. If I got the shield right, the shield could direct your magic—or your dacha’s or your sisters’ depending on the power cell—as an extra layer conducted through it.”

“Hmm. That could work.” Fieran’s eyes glazed slightly, and he tromped right through a mud puddle as if he wasn’t paying enough attention to avoid it. “It wouldn’t be as strong as the Wall or able to actively ward off bombs like I can do in person.”

“No, it wouldn’t. Nor could it withstand heavy bombing like what the Mongavarians did to Bridgetown.” Pip resisted a shiver at the memories. “But it would be able to take a few hits. If a shield like that could buy a military base enough time to fight back or protect a city long enough for the nearest military base to send help, then surely it would be worth it.”

“It’s a good idea.” Fieran sighed and shook his head as they neared the hangar mouth. “We won’t be able to implement it until after this storm breaks. And then…”

“And then we’ll probably be under attack, and it will be too late regardless.” If only she’d had the idea weeks ago when they’d first arrived instead of just now. But she and Fieran hadn’t had the chance to practice their magic together as he’d been busy drilling his pilots and she’d been spending long hours building—then repairing—aeroplanes. “Maybe it’s something to bring up once the attack is over. For next time.”

Assuming they all survived this first attack, when it came.

“Yes.” Fieran shot her a weary smile as they stepped out of the rain into the hangar once again. “You’ll make me rather redundant.”

“I highly doubt that.” Even if she could implement a shield for Dar Goranth, the base would still need a warrior to defend it.

Would the military transfer Fieran elsewhere, if he was no longer needed to actively defend Dar Goranth? Worse, what if they decided she needed to remain to supervise her shield?

It almost made her want to keep the idea to herself. Even though there was no guarantee that she and Fieran would continue to be transferred to the same bases. Perhaps they’d stay at Dar Goranth for the entire war. Or they’d both be transferred elsewhere. Maybe they’d die in the coming attack.

There was no certainty in war.

Once she and Fieran were inside, she released her shield outside to avoid dumping rainwater on their heads.

Fieran grimaced down at his boots. His boots were wet, and his trousers muddy all the way past his knees. “I’d better change into my Not-Knot boots before the fighting bouts begin. I’m bound to be challenged at least once before the night is out, and I don’t want to start the fight looking like something a mountain lion dragged in.”

“Will people really challenge you?” Pip’s stomach twisted.

“Yes.” The smile dropped from Fieran’s face, his tone grim. “I’m my father’s son. There’s going to be more than a few warriors who will want to test their mettle against me.”

Great. Yet another thing to worry about.

Pip sat wedged between Fieran and Aylia along one of the upper tiers of benches in the fighting arena. Unlike the movie night, all the seats were available, and they were even more packed.

It seemed as if every troll on base—and a good number of those from the docked warships and airships—had swarmed the place. A whole contingent of dwarves had plunked themselves in a section in the back while Lt. Rothilion and some of the other elven pilots besides Aylia had actually put in an appearance.

The only semi-cleared space in the whole seat area was the front box where Queen Melantha and Prince Sontar sat. The entire arena of spectators stood and saluted when the troll queen entered, and the trolls had sent up such a howling cheer that Pip had promptly tucked in the moss earplugs Fieran had suggested she take along.

Down in the arena, two trolls bashed at each other with axes. While the blades were dulled, the two of them were bound to have some nasty bruises by the time the fight was over.

Fieran hadn’t put his arm behind her like he had during the moving picture, but they were wedged so tightly against each other that they were touching from hip to knee and at their shoulders.

Not that she minded, exactly. But she was far more aware of every time he moved than she was of the fights taking place below. And Fieran moved a lot. He never sat still for more than a second or two at a time.

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