Page 58 of Fly to Fury
“Captain!” A shout rang through the radio, cutting through the rest of the cacophony.
Fieran cast about, looking for the reason for the warning.
It wasn’t directed at him.
An Alliance aeroplane was tumbling from the sky, the wings on fire. Even as he watched, it plowed into the ground, erupting into a fireball laced with blue magic as the magical power cell exploded.
Capt. Kentworth. He’d been a thorn in Fieran’s side, but no one should have to die like that.
There was no time to mourn. No time for anything but fighting and killing.
Fieran swept his aeroplane upward, lashing out with his magic at two more Mongavarian aeroplanes before they could chase down one of the remaining aeroplanes of Capt. Kentworth’s squadron. These aeroplanes weren’t shielded, and his magic sliced through with such ease that he nearly took out one of Capt. Kentworth’s remaining pilots before he reeled his magic back under control.
“Half-Breed Squadron reporting in.” Pretty Face’s voice crackled through the radio.
“Some of us, anyway.” Stickyfingers sounded somewhere between grim and cheerful.
“The rest are coming,” Lije added, a note of determination to his tone.
Three aeroplanes, their noses decorated with bright artwork, roared into the battle.
Fieran cast out with his magic, but there were too many other aeroplanes in the sky, both friend and foe. He couldn’t shield Pretty Face, Lije, and Stickyfingers. At least, not until they got close enough.
In the distance, the guns of the airships boomed as the two lines of airships clashed, erupting with fire and smoke.
Three more Mongavarian aeroplanes chased after one of Capt. Kentworth’s men, and Fieran swerved his aeroplane to overtake them. Below, the Mongavarian lines flashed by as his aeroplane carried him farther over the empire’s landscape.
Fieran pressed the trigger, and his machine gun bucked.
Then he heard it. Not the familiar tink of a bullet ricocheting off the metal reinforcing the propeller. But acrack.
For a moment, everything seemed fine. His propeller kept spinning. His aeroplane kept flying.
Then one of the three propeller blades spun away. Broken and unbalanced, the whole propeller sheered off and whipped backward, shredding through both the upper and lower left wing, taking out struts and shredding canvas. The wings didn’t instantly tear away, but it was only a matter of time.
“Fieran!” Merrik shouted over the radio, the agony in his voice matched by that in the voices of the others as they, too, yelled his name.
After taking his hand off the control column long enough to peel off his goggles so that the glass wouldn’t shatter into his eyes on an impact with the ground, Fieran braced himself in the cockpit as he fought to ease his aeroplane into a turn without putting more strain on the damaged wings. His flyer was staying in the air by sheer momentum alone, just gliding rather than powered by the engine.
Slowly as a drunk turtle, his aeroplane turned until the nose faced the Wall and the far-off safety of the airfield.
Could he make it? Or would he be forced to put his aeroplane down behind enemy lines?
“How can I help? What can I do?” Merrik sounded more frantic than Fieran had ever heard. His aeroplane drew level with Fieran’s, coming far too close. He must be feathering the engine to slow his aeroplane to match Fieran’s slowing speed. “Maybe I can grab your aeroplane with my magic. Like I did with Rothilion.”
“No, don’t! Stay back! I’d just drag you down too.” Fieran fought the rudder and stick, attempting some semblance of control over his dying flyer. With most of the lift coming from the undamaged wings, his aeroplane kept trying to flip.
With his aeroplane as crippled as it was, the left wings could give way at any moment. If they did so while Merrik’s aeroplane was attached to his, the wreckage of Fieran’s flyer might damage or destroy Merrik’s before Fieran could cut himself loose.
“Fieran?” Pip’s voice came on the radio. Wavering, as if she were on the verge of tears. “What’s happening?”
“Propeller broke. Damaged my left wings.” Fieran gritted his teeth as he wrestled to maintain control and tried to ease his aeroplane lower. Another section of the upper left wing broke off.
He wasn’t going to make it. The border was too far and his aeroplane too damaged. The wing likely wouldn’t even hold for a landing here on the Mongavarian side.
“Pip, listen to me.” Fieran eased his aeroplane another few feet lower.
“Yes?”
