Page 61 of Stalk the Sky

More, they would be going into battle tomorrow. Already, the rain outside the hangar had slackened from a drumming to a more gentle patter. By the time dawn broke, the storm would too.

To one side, a troll communications officer fiddled with a telephone that he was installing next to the radio. As the high frequency aeroplane radios didn’t connect with the low frequency radios in the communications room, a troll officer would be stationed here during the battle to pass messages back and forth.

“Hey.” Fieran’s voice came from below.

Pip peered down, finding Fieran leaning against the tail of his aeroplane and looking far too relaxed for someone who would go into battle in the morning. “Hey, yourself.”

Ugh, her voice didn’t come out nearly as nonchalant as his.

“It’s late. You should get some sleep.” His gaze sharpened on her, his eyebrows quirking upward.

“I need to finish inspecting the aeroplanes.” She internally winced as she heard the near desperation in her own voice. “Besides, you’re the one who needs sleep more than I do.”

He was going to war in the morning. She would be here, safe and sound, listening to it all go down on the radio and helpless to do anything. Some of her flyboys might be killed, and even keeping their aeroplanes in top condition wouldn’t prevent that.

Fieran gave her a slightly sterner look, holding out an arm as if for a hug. “Come on. You’ve inspected all the aeroplanes three times today already. They are pristine.”

Pip gripped the edge of the wing as she stepped down from the tippy top of the ladder. Once she was a few rungs down, she released the wing and descended the ladder more quickly. As her feet touched the ground, she turned to Fieran.

She wasn’t sure if that arm was truly an invitation or just a gesture for her to come down, but she needed a hug and her brother Mak wasn’t here. Stepping closer, Pip wrapped her arms around Fieran’s waist and rested her head against his chest, much as she’d done in the aftermath of the Battle over Bridgetown.

Whatever he’d meant, he wrapped his arms around her readily enough, without stiffening or flinching or drawing back as if the hug was unwelcome.

The gesture was simply the comforting hug of brother and sister. Surely. She didn’t mean anything by it, despite the way her heart thumped harder. Her proximity to Fieran told her far too much about the strength of his muscles while the whiff of his minty soap clinging to him sent her head spinning.

Surely he didn’t mean anything more than the offered comfort, despite his solid warmth and the way he held her as if she belonged in his arms.

“The sneak attack on Bridgetown was awful.” Pip closed her eyes, not caring that she was talking into Fieran’s shirt. “But knowing an attack is coming is awful too. We have time to dread it.”

For a long moment, Fieran just held her, not speaking. Which was concerning. If even Fieran was at a loss for words, things were dire indeed.

“And just…just keep my aeroplanes pristine, all right?” She couldn’t help the way she hugged him tighter. “None of this coming back with a wing half-ripped off.”

He huffed a breath into her hair. “I’ll do my best. And you be careful too. If the enemy airships get past us, they’ll bomb Dar Goranth, and I know you’ll use your magic to stop them.”

Of course she would. It would mean that she wouldn’t exactly be as out of the line of fire as either of them would like. But she couldn’t just sit by and watch while the base was bombed.

Fieran’s hand lightly ran up and down her back, sending tingles down her spine. The longer she stood there, held in his arms, the more her breath caught in her throat.

“Fieran…” Pip tipped her face up, only to find that Fieran had bent his head closer to hers.

His gaze flicked over her face as if drinking her in. His hand paused on her back, his fingers splaying as if he was preparing to pull her closer yet. He leaned still closer, as if he was iron and she was the magnet.

Pip tangled her fingers in the warmth of his uniform shirt, standing on her tiptoes. She’d never been kissed before, but this…this felt like a moment for kissing.

“I think I might like you.” The confession tripped out of her unbidden, breathy in the shrinking space between them.

Fieran stilled, then blinked. After a long, agonized moment, his hands shifted from her back to grip her shoulders. “I like you too.”

Those words would have been something to treasure, if he hadn’t already been gently putting space between them, his grip on her shoulders light but firm as if he was consciously placing a barrier between them.

His gaze dropped from hers. “But we can’t. I can’t.”

“Oh.” Pip took another step back, and Fieran let his hands drop back to his sides. She resisted the urge to shiver at the loss of his warmth. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…I misinterpreted…”

Great. Now her voice was choking up, tears burning hot in her eyes. No way was she going to burst into sobs in front of him.

She should have just taken the comforting hug and not crossed that line of friendship. Things had been just fine. And now she’d gone and ruined it by admitting her feelings.

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