Page 27 of Fly to Fury
She needed to get a grip.
“No enemy aeroplanes this time?” She fiddled with the coil in her hands.
“There was. But the pilot took one look at us and hightailed it out of there.” Fieran huffed, as if that wasn’t a good thing. “As they all have lately. If they don’t run the moment they see our nose art, all I need to do is coat my aeroplane with my magic, and they flee.”
“Incinerating an entire squadron will do that.” Pip winced as soon as the words left her mouth.
Fieran’s eyes darkened before he looked away, his grin slipping.
Here on the frontlines, everyone joked about death and killing. It was just so much a part of life, especially for the airship crews and the aeroplane pilots who did the bulk of the fighting currently. It was either joke about it or collapse under the reality.
But at the same time, the weight of death still existed, even if they all tried to ignore it.
After a moment, the grin returned, and Fieran shrugged. “Yes, well, it has made for rather boring patrols.”
“I suspect the other squadrons are appreciating the break.” Pip tipped her head to where some of the pilots from Capt. Fleetwood’s squadron were trying to cajole Pretty Face into helping them with painting nose art on their aeroplanes.
“Capt. Fleetwood’s pilots are, at any rate.” Fieran’s posture relaxed again as he leaned more firmly against the workbench, facing outward. “More of his pilots are adding nose art. Not sure if it is because they actually want art or because they’ve realized they’ll be safer with it since the Mongavarians will assume they’re facing my squadron.”
“A little of both, I’d guess.” Pip forced herself to stop fiddling with the coil of wire. Instead, she held it up. “I have more wire ready. Want to help me install it?”
“Of course.” Fieran pushed away from the workbench, stepping back to give her room to hop down. “Whose aeroplanes are we up to?”
“Lije and Stickyfingers.” Pip strode toward where the ground crew had parked those aeroplanes. They’d already added the wire to Merrik’s aeroplane, followed by Tiny’s and Murray’s. “Mak got the insulators attached to their aeroplanes yesterday.”
The insulators were a bit more rudimentary than what she’d installed on Fieran’s aeroplane. She’d found an old rubber truck tire and was cutting it up into small tabs. After piercing a hole in it for the wire, Mak used his magic to attach the rubber tabs to the aeroplane.
She and Fieran strolled across the hangar, pausing a few times as various flyboys and pilots halted them to talk to Fieran.
At Lije’s aeroplane, Fieran set to work stringing the higher ring of wire while she worked on the lower wiring.
A few aeroplanes away, Mak and Merrik worked on Pretty Face’s aeroplane, attaching the rubber insulators using their plant growing magic. Her brother tapped out a rhythm and used a hammer in conjunction with his magic while Merrik simply pressed his hand to the wood.
“If your flyboys have time, we could speed up the process if they helped make more insulators.” Pip wiggled the end of the wire through the hole in one of the rubber tabs. “If even a portion of the squadron helped, we’d have a pile of these in no time.”
“The whole squadron would gladly help out.” Fieran leaned over to reach between the wings to thread his section of the wire. “We can add it to tomorrow’s project list.”
“You’re going to have a mutiny on your hands if you keep adding to the to-do list.” Pip found herself grinning upat Fieran, her hands falling still. With the way he was leaning over to reach the next insulator, his shirt pulled taut across his chest, his feet balancing on the wing and one hand gripping a wing support. Locks of his red hair had fallen over his forehead.
Her grin faded as he glanced down at her, his piercing blue eyes meeting hers. Their faces were still several feet apart, but she still found herself swaying forward at the crackle between them.
Then Fieran straightened, turning back to the wire he was stringing and clearing his throat. “I’m a captain now. I need to encourage productivity on our days off instead of using all the time for recreation in Little Aldon.”
What were they talking about again? Pip swallowed, her tongue drying.
“That sounds like something our dachas would say,” Merrik called from the next aeroplane over. Green magic wrapped around his fingers as he melded the aeroplane’s frame over a rubber insulator.
Pip jumped, her face flushing even though she and Fieran had done nothing but hold each other’s gaze for a charged moment. She’d forgotten that not only were they not alone but Merrik and—even worse—her brother were only a few yards away.
How embarrassing. Hopefully Mak hadn’t been paying attention.
“Our dachas are rather focused.” Fieran wiggled the wire through the rubber insulator at the very far stretch of his reach, not giving any indication that he’d even felt the moment the way she had. His ears weren’t even pink. “The squadron might grumble, but they’ll thank me when the first summer storm rolls in and our tents are more than just old canvas and rickety poles.”
Pip gave a slight shudder. She, Aylia, and the other female elven pilots were bunked with a few female mechanics for the airships in a wooden barracks to the side of the hangar claimed by the airships. As the wooden barracks had been funded out of the airship budget, the barracks were sturdy, weathertight, and had real glass windows. Compared to that, Fieran and the flyboys’ tents were especially sad.
“While you work on the tents, I’ll get started on more wire and insulators.” Pip ducked under the wing and crouched, balanced on her toes, as she strung the wire.
“Actually, Merrik and I are headed into the mountains in the morning to fill magical power cells, and I was hoping you’d come along.” Fieran jumped down from the wing, his boots coming into view as he landed on the floor. “You could learn how to run the machine, if you’d like. It wouldn’t hurt to have another person trained on it, and you have all the proper certifications.”
