Page 75 of Fly to Fury
Chapter
Twenty-Four
Pip’s stomach knotted as she, Pretty Face, Lije, Stickyfingers, and Tiny made their way to the hospital. Mak had offered to come along, but she insisted he remain behind this time to continue fixing the aeroplanes. If the Mongavarians realized that Fieran had crashed, they might attempt another aerial attack sooner rather than later.
She and the flyboys had waited long enough to eat breakfast that morning, but none of them had wanted to delay more than that to make another attempt to see Merrik.
The long wooden hospital building stretched along one side of the main headquarters area not far from the elven commanders’ quarters. The bustle surrounding the building did not seem as frantic as the day before.
The troll warriors standing guard at the door let them enter as far as the desk at the front. When Pretty Face leaned on the desk and asked if they could visit Merrik Loiatir, the clerk summoned an orderly, and they were led up a set of stairs to the fourth floor and into a long ward.
Identical metal-framed beds lined each side of the longroom, each of them with a wounded male human, elf, or troll. A few of the beds had curtains drawn around them for privacy while others had the curtains pulled back.
The many windows lining the room were open, letting in a fresh morning breeze that somewhat cut the scents of blood, urine, and stringent cleaners that filled the room.
Pip crowded closer to the rest of the flyboys as the orderly led them down the long aisle between the beds until they reached the bed all the way at the end of the room.
The curtain was only partially drawn, and beyond it Merrik lay on the bed, his face several shades even paler than his normal skin tone while his long hair straggled over the pillow and blankets. His eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling as if he slept.
Colonel Loiatir sat on a chair beside him, a book in his hands, though he stared off into space rather than at the words on the page.
The orderly paused by the curtain and cleared his throat. “Colonel Loiatir. Some of the men…er, members…of your son’s squadron are here to see him.”
Colonel Loiatir straightened, his gaze finally lifting to them as if he’d been yanked from a deep reverie. After sweeping a glance over them, he gave a nod, set his book on a nearby table, and rested a hand on Merrik’s shoulder. “Merrik. Some of your friends are here to see you.”
Merrik must not have been as deeply asleep as Pip had assumed, for he stirred at his dacha’s touch, his head turning and his eyes opening.
As Merrik’s gaze drifted past his dacha to lock on them, his eyes widened, something almost like panic, maybe even horror, twisting his expression. He shook his head. “No. No, I do not want to see them. No. Make them go away.”
Pip blinked, her feet rooting to the spot. What was wrong? Why would Merrik refuse to see them?
Colonel Loiatir sighed, patted his son’s shoulder, then stood. He strode to them, pulling the curtain the rest of the way closed behind him to block Merrik from their view. Or perhaps block them from Merrik’s view. She couldn’t be sure which it was.
Lines grooved through Colonel Loiatir’s forehead while dark circles ringed his eyes. With a burdened set to his shoulders, he seemed to have aged overnight in a way elves only did toward the end of their lives.
“What—” Pretty Face began, but Colonel Loiatir shook his head.
After a glance over his shoulder at the curtained area, Colonel Loiatir tilted his head toward the aisle the way they’d come. “Not here. Come.”
Pip hugged her arms to her stomach as Colonel Loiatir strode past them and led the way back through the ward. He only paused once he stood in the stairwell, out of sight of the ward.
“What’s going on?” Lije glanced from Colonel Loiatir to the door to the ward, hunching his shoulders as if to appear smaller. There was something hurt and confused in his tone.
Pip braced herself. Something must have been terribly wrong if Merrik didn’t want to see them, his friends. She should have let Mak come along. She really could use one of his hugs.
And then Colonel Loiatir told them, and his statement had Pretty Face muttering words under his breath that Pip had never heard from him before. Tiny faced the wall, pumping his fist as if to punch it before he halted himself just short. Stickyfingers clenched and unclenched his fingers on his crutches, his eyes just a bit too wide whileLije just kept shaking his head as if to deny what he’d just heard.
Pip blinked and swallowed, fighting a losing battle against tears that rose all too easily to the surface.
As the others turned to go, trudging down the stairs with even more burdened steps than the ones that had carried them there that morning, Colonel Loiatir held out a hand to her. “Miss…”
She turned, swiping at her face to try to conquer her tears.
“You saved his life yesterday.” Colonel Loiatir met her gaze, not flinching at the sight of her tears. “Without your help, I never would have gotten him out of his aeroplane before he bled out or the engine exploded. Linshi.”
He didn’t say it, but in the latter case, he likely would have died as well. He never would have left Merrik’s side to save himself.
All Pip could manage was a nod before she turned and followed the others down the stairs. It didn’t feel like she’d saved him. All she could see was him lying there. And after…
