Page 30 of Fly to Fury
The magic came easily, even deep within the earth in a cavern carved by troll magic as he was. He had inherited Dacha’s magic, but he hadn’t inherited the elven weakness to stone and troll magic.
How uncomfortable must filling the magical power cells be for Dacha? Dacha was sensitive to both stone and troll magic. Aunt Melantha’s healing stone could mitigate the effects, but using his magic deep within the earth would quickly burn through her protections.
At a nod from Merrik, Fieran reached with his magic for the wire running over his head. His magic eagerly jumped along the wire, over the wall separating him from the machine, and down into the power cell.
Pip’s head bent as she took in the various gauges, her eyes dancing in the light of his crackling magic. Fieran would have liked to take credit for the wonder on her face, but he knew her look had more to do with the machine than his magic.
Oh, well. He’d expected as much. Besides, his magic was almost becoming old hat for her, considering how many times she’d seen him wield it both in practice and in battle.
At another nod from Merrik, Fieran withdrew his magic, stuffing it back into his chest despite the depths of his power begging to be unleashed.
Merrik flipped the switches again, walking Pip through shutting down the machine and disconnecting the filled magical power cell so that it could be removed.
Pip’s face fairly glowed, and as Fieran walked around theprotective barrier to rejoin them, she just about did a pirouette as she turned to him. “I’ve always wanted to do this! We studied the machine for filling magical power cells at university, and I briefly saw it during one of our field trips to the AMPC, but this is so much better.”
“Glad you’re enjoying this.” Fieran pushed his goggles onto his forehead, the better to take in her grin. “Let’s haul in a whole bunch of empties so we can get on a roll with filling them.”
Together, he, Merrik, and Pip hauled in as many magical power cells as Fieran thought he could fill. Then they set to work filling them, and soon Pip had taken over the primary running of the machine while Merrik supervised.
Fieran worked to keep his grin to himself. This might just have been his best idea yet. Well, except for the fact that he hadn’t gotten a chance to use teaching Pip the machine as an excuse for getting close to her.
Once Pip was fully trained—and if she could survive the certification test with Uncle Iyrinder and Dacha without freezing up—he and Pip could head up here by themselves. No Merrik to run the machine required. Not that he disliked working with Merrik. Far from it. But Pip…
Well, Pip was Pip, and even if he didn’t dare take the next step into a romantic relationship just yet, he would take all the time with her that he could get.
Chapter
Eleven
Fieran followed the massed pack of his pilots, including the elven pilots of Flight A. Despite a few grumbles here and there, the whole squadron had decided to participate in the mysterious activity that Pretty Face, Lije, and Stickyfingers had arranged.
It seemed the work day crafting their new, much-improved tents on their previous off-duty day had done much for their unit cohesion. Hopefully this activity—whatever it was—would build on their squadron’s growing unity.
Fieran might have to consider those three for future promotion and leadership roles, given the initiative and organization they’d shown in setting this up.
Although, he might want to wait until he’d seen what this activity was before he made too many decisions.
“What do you think they’ve arranged?” Pip trotted at Fieran’s side. For once, she wasn’t wearing her green coveralls or overalls and instead wore trousers and a white shirt. With her dark hair loose around her shoulders, she looked…
Well, she looked absolutely adorable in a way that madehim want to step closer and twine one of those glossy curls around his finger.
He shook himself and forced his gaze away from her. No romance. That was what they’d agreed.
“With those three, it is anyone’s guess.” Merrik’s smile tipped wryly. But his feet weren’t dragging. After all, Fieran had hauled him into much worse than whatever shenanigans Lije, Stickyfingers, and Pretty Face could come up with.
“I cannot believe you talked us into this.” Lt. Rothilion trailed after the last of his Flight, walking a few feet away from Merrik, Fieran, Pip, and Mak, who had also joined the squadron on this excursion.
“Flight A is a part of the Half-Breed Squadron as much as Flight B.” Fieran held Lt. Rothilion’s gaze as he spoke, hoping the elf lieutenant heard the conviction in his voice.
Their squadron needed more activities like this. They were working well enough while in the air and while crafting their new shelters, but the two halves of the squadron still kept mostly to themselves. Understandable, of course. They’d trained at different bases, and they’d been shoved rather haphazardly together when they’d both been sent to Dar Goranth.
But they needed to be one squadron the way the other two squadrons here at Fort Defense already were. There could come a point where that unity—or lack of it—would be tested.
“Here we are!” Lije announced from somewhere at the head of their gaggle.
Pip stood on her tiptoes, leaning back and forth for a moment before she huffed and fell back onto her heels. “I can’t see anything. Where are we?”
Fieran took a step to the side to get a better view and grinned. He should have guessed, given the interest thosethree had shown on their first tour of Little Aldon. “We’re at that photography shop. The one that does tourist pictures.”
