Page 61 of Fly to Fury
The king and prince turned to her, and she quailedbeneath the two sets of burning eyes. The elven guards stepped forward, as if she might be a threat.
But she had to speak. For Fieran.
With sobs filling her chest, she gasped for breath, barely managing a few halting words. “He said…said…get his dacha.”
King Weylind and Prince Farrendel still stared at her, as if they expected more. Somewhere behind Pip, tires crunched on gravel, an engine rumbled, and a voice shouted, “King Weylind! General Laesornysh!”
What else could she tell them? What else was there besides the faint thread of hope that she clung to? Surely he wouldn’t have sent her away if he hadn’t been planning something. He would have used his last moments for a goodbye, not a mission.
“He was going to try to land. I don’t know if he had a plan for…crashing. But maybe…I think…” She hardly dared voice more of her desperate hope than that. Would it be treason if she voiced a speculation to elven royalty, only for it to be proven wrong?
Prince Farrendel met King Weylind’s gaze once more.
King Weylind released him, stepping back. “Go. I will rally the army and follow.”
Prince Farrendel took off at a sprint. Pip whirled just in time to see him jump on the running board of an open-topped army truck and yank a rather confused human soldier out of the driver’s seat. Even as the soldier sprawled on the ground, Prince Farrendel settled into the seat, worked the gears, and stomped on the gas.
The truck’s tires spun, spitting out dirt and gravel, as the truck roared into motion. It tore through a section of grass as Prince Farrendel spun it through a drifting turn before the truck raced at full throttle down the hill toward thefrontlines, the elf prince’s hair streaming behind him with the wind.
King Weylind was already striding forward, yelling orders first at the human soldier who was just picking himself off the ground, then at the elves clustered near him.
Another elf that Pip hadn’t even noticed stepped out of the shadows. “Merrik? Is he all right?”
Pip blinked, her brain taking a second longer than it should have to recognize Colonel Iyrinder Loiatir, Merrik’s dacha. “I…don’t know. He was with Fieran when…”
When Fieran crashed. Close enough that Fieran had been yelling at him to get back.
Colonel Loiatir shifted, glancing from her to King Weylind as if he wasn’t sure what his duty was at the moment. “Will you be all right? I should—”
The sound of an aeroplane coming in far too low overhead yanked her gaze up to the sky once again.
The aeroplane’s wings were engulfed in flames, black smoke pouring from the engine compartment and obscuring the nose art, even if the aeroplane had been close enough to see it.
But she didn’t need to see the art to identify it. Green magic spread over the wings, trying to stifle the fire even as the pilot fought to remain in the sky. None of the elves of the Half-Breed Squadron had gotten into the air yet, and that was a Soarwing, flown by the pilots of Flight B.
“Merrik.” Pip spun and raced back the way she’d come.
Colonel Iyrinder quickly caught up with her, then passed her, his longer legs carrying him at a sprint up the hill and through the shelters. He disappeared inside the hangar, and Pip dashed after him.
Merrik’s stricken aeroplane flashed overhead, the engine’s whine sounding off.
Pip dodged around the remaining aeroplanes inside, not stopping as mechanics shouted questions at her.
She skidded on the slick cement floor before she reached the hangar door on the far side, ducking under the wing of an aeroplane blocking the opening.
Outside, aeroplanes spun up while four more aeroplanes lined up, two by two, at the end of the airfield, waiting to take off. Even more aeroplanes waited behind those to hurtle into the sky to join the battle.
Colonel Loiatir was already racing alongside the waiting aeroplanes, running as if he intended to catch up with his son’s aeroplane before it even touched down.
Pip sprinted after him, her breaths coming hard and gasping.
Merrik’s aeroplane dropped lower, skimming above the airfield. If he crashed, he could block the airfield, making it impossible for more aeroplanes to take to the sky until the wreckage was cleared.
Perhaps he realized that because at the last moment, he veered his aeroplane to the right, setting his aeroplane down in the weeds to the side of the airfield.
She tried to reach out with a shield. Tried with everything in her to prevent what she knew in her bones was about to happen.
But everything was happening far too fast. She couldn’t correct quickly enough to take into account that last moment change in direction, and her shield flared to the left, even as Merrik’s aeroplane dove toward the weeds.
