Page 71 of Fly to Fury
How. Embarrassing. This was not how she imagined Fieran would tell her he loved her. She was never going to be able to face Fieran’s dacha ever, ever again.
Fieran’s voice grew quieter as his song turned into an increasingly soft “Love you, love you” over and over again. He seemed to be singing himself to sleep, his eyes closed, no longer aware of them.
“I…uh…I should leave Fieran to rest.” Pip popped to her feet. She didn’t dare look at Prince Farrendel again, not even to get one last reassuring glimpse of Fieran still alive and still breathing.
She scurried from the room, almost running into the table in the center of the other room in her near-blind panic.
Beside the outer door, Pretty Face and Lije turned to her, breaking off their quiet discussion. By the lack of smirks ontheir faces, they hadn’t heard Fieran’s drugged mutterings and singing.
Small mercies. It was already bad enough thatPrince Farrendel Laesornyshhad been present. It would have been embarrassing beyond belief if the flyboys had witnessed that scene as well.
“Is everything all right?” Lije searched her face.
Pretty Face cast a glance from her to the door beyond, as if wondering just what had happened. He shifted, almost as if he thought she needed protection.
What could they read in her expression? No doubt her face was still red as a strawberry.
But she wasn’t about to tell them what had actually gone down. “It’s just…hard. Seeing him like that.”
That was true, even if it wasn’t the reason for her hurried exit.
Lije nodded, and the set to Pretty Face’s shoulders relaxed before he opened the door and flourished a hand for her to go first.
Pip fled outside, breathing in a deep breath of the afternoon warmth. After all that had happened, she half-expected to find the closing darkness of night. It seemed almost an insult to the tragedies of the day that they still had hours of daylight and work left to slog through.
As she, Pretty Face, and Lije strode up the hill toward where Mak waited with Tiny and Stickyfingers, Pip glanced over her shoulder at the elven quarters as something else broke through the embarrassment of moments ago.
Fieran loved her. Loved her enough that it was his first thought upon seeing her while in a drugged state.
Sure, he had no idea what he’d told her. There was no telling how he’d feel once the drugs wore off and he remembered the full situation.
But for tonight when the nightmares of the day came crashing down, she’d cling to those words. She’d hope that maybe once he woke and healed, they could get back to the discussion—and the kiss—that had been interrupted by war.
By the time she, Pretty Face, and Lije reached the others near the road, Pip had schooled her expression as best she could. Mak shot her a look, but he didn’t pester her with questions.
Stickyfingers glanced between them. “How’s Fieran?”
“Drugged out of his mind.” Pretty Face rolled his shoulders with a shrug. “But he seemed as good as could be expected. His father was relaxed enough that I don’t think anyone fears he will worsen.”
“What about Merrik?” The lines in Lije’s forehead were becoming permanent as he kept his hands tucked in his pockets.
“They didn’t let us see him.” Tiny grimaced, his arms crossed. “They wouldn’t even let us in the hospital or tell us how he is besides that he’s alive.”
“I would’ve sneaked in to see for myself but…” Stickyfingers patted the crutches he had tucked under his arms. “I’m not sneaking anywhere until this is healed.”
As the bullet wound was just a through-and-through that didn’t hit the bone or artery, his injury had been bandaged so the elven healers could save their magic for those more grievously injured. In a day or two once those wounded were on the mend, Stickyfingers would be able to report to the hospital to have his injury healed the rest of the way.
“We’ll have to try again tomorrow.” Lije tipped his head in a decisive nod, as if that settled it.
Pip nodded as well, even though none of them were looking at her. Seeing for herself that Fieran was alive and healing had untwisted some of the ache inside her. But shewasn’t sure she’d draw in a decent breath again until she could reassure herself that Merrik was all right too. She’d seen the state he’d been in when his dacha pulled him from the wreckage of his aeroplane. Things hadn’t looked good.
Until then, she had work to do. Aeroplanes to put back together. Engines to fix. Magical power cells to replace.
There was nothing she could do to help Merrik or Fieran right now. But she could take care of the squadron. It was what Fieran would want her to do.
Chapter
Twenty-Three
