Page 38 of Fly to Fury
“Regardless, we will be taking you straight to a healer.” Prince Farrendel’s tone left no room for argument, and Fieran shut his mouth.
The elven healer currently on duty at the hangar brushed past Pip and hurried to Fieran. As he pressed a hand to Fieran’s forehead—fingers glowing green with healing magic—the healer asked, “Where is he injured?”
“I’m not injured. I’m fine.” Fieran made an effort to straighten, leaning less heavily on Merrik and his dacha.
“It seems to be something with his magic.” Prince Farrendel tightened his grip on Fieran, as if he wasn’t about to release him to stand on his own.
The elven healer nodded and withdrew his hand. “I do not sense anything wrong, but it would be best to consult with one of the senior healers at the hospital.”
Fieran heaved a sigh—was that an eyeroll?—but didn’t protest again as Merrik and Prince Farrendel started walking again.
As they approached the hangar, Pip remained rooted to the spot, her heart squeezing even more painfully in her chest.
Fieran lifted his gaze, and his grin returned. “Did you see, Pip? The wires worked great.”
She wanted to shake him. If she’d known he’d do something crazy like that, she never would have rigged up the wires on the squadron’s aeroplanes.
Prince Farrendel’s gaze swung to her too, and her muscles locked. Opening her mouth, she tried to find a reply. All she managed was a squeaky wheeze.
“You remember Pip, don’t you? I introduced her on our first day here.” Fieran waved to her with the hand hooked over his dacha’s shoulder. “She’s the chief mechanic for my squadron. Her iron magic seems to really take to my magic, and I’ve practiced magic with her holding a shield for me.”
“Are you the one who has been holding the shield over this hangar during the recent battles?” Prince Farrendel’s regard settled more firmly on her, his silver-blue eyes studying her.
All she could manage was a stilted nod, her heart beating so hard in her chest it might just bruise her ribs.
“Actually, she should join us sometime for a morning practice.” Fieran’s grin was far too mischievous.
She widened her eyes at him. Was he trying to give her a heart attack? There was no way she could practice her magic withthePrince Farrendel Laesornysh.
Prince Farrendel made a noncommittal sound before he swung that disconcerting gaze from her back to his son. “Distraction will not get you out of a trip to the healer.”
Fieran sighed and stepped forward again. He wasn’t leaning on Merrik and his dacha as heavily as he had been a moment ago. “Fine. Let’s go.”
As he, Merrik, and Prince Farrendel set off again, Pip braced herself against the hangar wall, her legs going weak. Whether it was worry for Fieran or because Prince Farrendel had spoken to her, she didn’t know. Probably a mix of both.
“Pip!” Lije skidded to a halt next to her as Merrik, Fieran, and Prince Farrendel disappeared out the door on the other side. “Is Fieran all right?”
“Do you know what’s wrong?” Stickyfingers crowded behind Lije. The two of them must have been the first of the flyboys to land after the air battle.
“I don’t know what’s wrong. But Fieran insists he’s fine,just tired.” Pip forced herself to straighten. It wouldn’t do any good if she panicked and caused the whole squadron to freak out. “His dacha and Merrik are taking him to the elven healers as a precaution, but he’s probably all right.”
Lije nodded, though the furrow remained across his brow. Beside him, Stickyfingers clasped and unclasped his hands behind his back, as if he wasn’t sure what to do.
Pip couldn’t blame them. A part of her wanted to run after Fieran and insist on being there. Perhaps hold his hand while the elf healer gave a verdict.
But that wasn’t her place. They didn’t have that kind of relationship.
No matter how much she wished they did.
Fieran saton the wooden exam table, swinging his legs. His shirt was unbuttoned, and a senior elf healer pressed a hand over his heart. Green laced around the healer’s fingers, and the elf’s eyes had a distant look as he concentrated on what his magic was telling him about Fieran’s body.
Gripping the edge of the table, Fieran tried to ignore the squiggling feeling of the elven healing magic working its way through his body. His magic stirred at the intrusion of the foreign magic, and he had to concentrate to keep his magic locked tight deep inside him.
But the probing of the healing magic was a rather familiar sensation. He’d made many trips to a healer while growing up. Usually for doing something foolish and getting himself hurt.
Dacha paced along one side of the room where they’d been brought in the large hospital building to one side of headquarters. Most of the floors were large, open wards withcurtains to divide the beds if privacy was needed. But there were a few rooms for examinations built into the first floor.
Merrik leaned against the wall next to the door, his arms crossed and his mouth pressed into a tight line.
