Page 26 of Fly to Fury
Chapter
Nine
Pip stood off to the side as Fieran strolled into the hangar, his stride still strong even after a battle and his long patrol.
Before she had a chance to approach, Fieran was swarmed, both by the members of the Half-Breed Squadron and pilots from the other two squadrons. Capt. Fleetwood pushed his way through the group to slap Fieran on the back. The other captain, Capt. Kentworth, remained where he was, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a glower on his face.
Pip turned away, shoving aside the disappointment. It didn’t matter. She’d talk to Fieran later. It wasn’t like she expected him to greet her first every time he landed.
Just as well that she didn’t get caught up talking to Fieran. She had work to do.
As the ground crew worked to push the squadron’s aeroplanes back into the hangar, Pip approached the nearest aeroplane and started her inspection, cataloguing the damage. Several bullet holes in the canvas. One of the wingstruts had some damage. The engine itself needed wires replaced.
After making notes on a paper on her clipboard, Pip moved on to the next aeroplane, falling into a familiar rhythm. Occasionally one of the other mechanics would interrupt her with a question, but she soon had them sent off to their tasks.
Pip had her head in the engine compartment of Fieran’s aeroplane when she heard that familiar steady stride coming up behind her. She didn’t withdraw from the aeroplane and instead spoke without looking. “What did you do to this aeroplane?”
“Fought a dogfight.” Fieran sounded far too cheerful.
“Yes, but I’ve seen your aeroplane after battles before. You burned the guts out of it this time.” Pip wrenched the nut off to free the wiring harness.
“We’ve never faced a solely aeroplane dogfight before.” Fieran was likely rolling his shoulders in that easy shrug of his. “And we then flew a rather long patrol afterwards.”
“Well, I’m establishing a few protocols.” Pip finally withdrew her head from the aeroplane. Mak had nicely made her a tall enough ladder so that her feet were already firmly standing on the top. “No aeroplane goes back into the sky without a thorough inspection.”
“That sounds serious.” Fieran tucked his thumbs into the pockets of his trousers, looking far from serious with his short red hair tousled, his flight jacket over an arm, and his goggles pushed onto his forehead.
“Very serious. Yours isn’t the only one with wires about ready to short out. Then there’s this.” Pip reached over and grabbed one of his propeller blades. “You can’t see it, but Mak checked the wood with his magic. There were hairline stress fractures in the propeller after taking so many bullethits. If Mak hadn’t fixed them with his magic, your propeller would have cracked eventually. Yours wasn’t even the worst one. Tiny’s propeller had a visible crack. It was only a few hits away from giving out.”
The grin fully dropped from Fieran’s face as his jaw worked. “I hope someone back home invents a way to prevent the bullets from striking the propeller soon.”
“I agree.” Pip released the propeller and instead tapped the wire running over the body of the aeroplane. “How were the new shielding wires?”
“They helped. A lot. I didn’t have to use as much concentration to hold the shield over my aeroplane.” Fieran rocked back and forth from his heels to his toes. “How hard would it be to install similar wires on all the aeroplanes of the squadron? I think they would make it possible for me to actively shield the other aeroplanes. Or, at least, those closest to me. It wouldn’t have been nearly so difficult to prevent my magic from incinerating Merrik’s aeroplane if his aeroplane had been rigged like this.”
She’d seen the scorch marks on bits of the canvas of Merrik’s flyer. Fieran had come rather perilously close to taking Merrik out of the sky. The fact that Fieran’s aeroplane didn’t have those same marks proved the wires had been effective.
“Not that hard. Once all the aeroplanes are fixed, I can start on the wires.” It would give her something to do the next time the squadron was on standby.
And considering how bored Fieran had seemed while on standby, he might offer to help.
Pip rana wire through her fingers, infusing it with her magic. She sat cross legged on her workbench, her back against a spot she’d cleared of tools in the pegboard. A coil of magic-infused wire rested on one side, the spool of magicless wire on the other.
She tried to pretend she wasn’t glancing at the hangar doors. She wasn’t watching for Fieran and the flyboys to return. She definitely wasn’t listening for the crackling of the radio set on a workbench in the corner.
Outside, aeroplanes touched down on the airfield, rolling to a stop before they headed toward the hangar.
Pip ducked her head and told herself to focus on the wire. Focus on calling up her magic and weaving it into the wire, strengthening the metal all the way to its core.
As she finished the last of the spool of wire, a burst of laughter from the doors drew her gaze again.
Fieran strolled into the hangar, his flight jacket thrown over his shoulder, his goggles shoved onto his forehead, and his red hair sticking out beneath his flight cap. The other flyboys surrounded him, some clapping him on the back, others laughing.
After a few moments, he wandered in her direction, leaning his hip against the workbench.
“How was the patrol?” Pip gathered the finished coil of wire, trying not to look at Fieran. He was too flight-tousled for her heart to take at the moment.
“Boring.” Fieran heaved a sigh as he peeled off his goggles and cap, leaving his longish red hair spiked in some areas, flat in others. The look should have made him appear ridiculous, but all it did was make Pip itch to run her fingers through the strands.
