Page 83 of Stalk the Sky

Fieran tried to let that settle into his chest, the way those similar words from his dacha had after the Battle over Bridgetown.

Did his dacha wrestle with this guilt each time he fought? With their powerful magic, perhaps it was inevitable to feel they could have done more. A curse of being Laesornysh.

But if carrying this weight was what it took to protect the Alliance, his family, his friends, and his flyboys, then Fieran would carry it gladly.

Chapter

Twenty-Four

Pip tightened the last bolt holding the ginormous cable to the junction box. After one last tug to make sure it was snug but not reefed too tight, she stuck the wrench in her belt. “All right, how is the power cell looking?”

“All set.” Fieran extricated himself from the power station attached to the junction box. Four large power cells—the size normally used for powering the surface warships—were wired into the junction box, much as they would be in an engine.

“Then we’re ready for the first test.” Pip dusted off her hands.

Fieran grinned, then led the way from the solid stone bunker that housed the power station and junction box.

At the top of the stairs to the surface, a troll warrior stood guard, and Pip nodded to him as she climbed out of the bunker. She stood at the edge of a cliff overlooking the harbor along one of the points that stretched to either side of Dar Goranth.

In the past two weeks since the battle, most of the wreckage had been cleaned up and repairs were already underway to the buildings. With so much to do, Pip had been surprised the base’s commanding officer had fast-tracked her idea.

Then again, the attack was probably the reason he’d responded to her idea with such eagerness.

The troll warrior swung the massive stone door shut, sealing everything safely inside. He then returned to his post in a sheltered spot next to the bunker.

Fieran waited a few steps away along the rocky headland, half-turned back to her.

Pip picked her way over the rocks, falling into step beside him. “I hope this works.”

“It will. You designed it.” Fieran’s grin remained bright on his face and in his blue eyes.

It was good to see him grinning again after the weight he’d carried in the aftermath of the battle.

“You helped a lot with that. I couldn’t have done it without your knowledge of magical power cells.” Pip dropped her gaze, not quite able to hold his gaze with that extra warm way he was looking at her.

They’d been able to rig something to refill the power cells she’d drained during the battle easily enough. Her magic and the way it conducted his magic prevented the usual problems of incineration and explosions that normally made filling power cells a tricky thing without the proper setup.

Working on that had led to pursuing this idea and, thankfully, helped her and Fieran regain some of the camaraderie they’d had before all that little confession, almost kiss awkwardness.

Just friends. That was what they’d agreed. That still didn’t stop her heart from beating harder around him or banish all thoughts of being held in his arms.

After the war. That sounded like such a long way off.

After strolling along the harbor—stopping briefly to wave at the dwarves hard at work in the dry docks to repair the ships damaged in the battle—they stepped into Level 1.

Commander Druindar and Captain Gradrah met them just inside. Captain Gradrah rested her gaze on Pip. “Mechanic Detmuk-Inawenys, is the shield ready for testing?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Pip stood as straight as she could. She still felt far too tiny surrounded by Fieran and the two troll officers.

Captain Gradrah nodded, then spun smartly on her heel. She marched toward a room that had been a storage closet to one side of the communications room. It had been turned into the breaker room for the base shield she’d just finished installing.

Commander Druindar, Fieran, and Pip followed. They left the double doors open, giving a view into the harbor.

At the tiny room, they found a whole bunch of the other troll commanding officers. Everyone was so packed in that Pip couldn’t even see the large lever-style breaker she had installed in the control panel.

The troll officer she’d worked with in the past week, training him how to operate the system, called out over the hubbub, “Test One commencing.”

The bystanders quieted. Pip shifted from foot to foot. It was even more nerve-wracking, standing there unable to see anything but the broad shoulders of uniformed trolls.

---