Page 90 of Swords of Soul and Shadow
“What’s done is done. We must find a way to fight back without the Crews.”
“I stole a Cerl hover in Nar,” Kase said.
Harlan froze, but only for a moment. A sardonic sneer blossomed on his face. “Of course you did.”
“I can fly it. I can take care of the flyovers.”
Harlan threw his hands in the air. “You can’t do anything against an entire fleet. Besides, you aren’t going anywhere. Not now.”
“But—”
“You’ve done enough.”
Kase threw his shoulders back, standing tall, ready to fight. “I’m the best pilot you have. You can’t afford to keep me grounded.”
Harlan poked him in the chest. “You’re theonlypilot we have, so no, I’m not risking your life just because you have an overinflated ego.”
All the air left Kase’s lungs. “What do you mean,only?”
Harlan stared into his soul. The hazel color shifted depending on the day, the lighting, and his father’s mood. Today, dark brown streaks stood out against the green. Danger. “It’s my understanding the Hover Colonel called in all pilots to fight the Cerls that night. Except the electricity died. The hovers and their pilots on the airfield strip were sitting ducks. The others fell out of the sky. Those who survived were killed by the Cerls or One World.”
“Yourunderstanding? Wouldn’t you know, being the Lord Kapitan?”
The muscle in his father’s jaw jumped again. “I took the fall when the secret about the Kyvena fire got out. While you were off turning yourself over to the Cerl commander.”
Kase blinked. “I don’t understand.”
The father Kase had known would’ve never done that. It was almost…noble.
“You ran, and the city wanted blood.” Harlan’s anger drained away, leaving him looking so tired in that moment that Kase could scarcely believe his father and the man in front of him were one and the same. Harlan leaned heavily on the scuffed table. “If the Cerls hadn’t attacked, I wouldn’t be here now.”
Kase said nothing. He wasn’t sure what that meant, exactly. Something in the back of his mind told him he should be thanking his father, but he couldn’t. The man in front of him didn’t deserve that kindness. Giving Kase a tea bag full of herbs and taking the fall, whatever that meant, wasn’t enough to erase past hurts or garner his respect.
Harlan clasped his hands behind his back. “However, when we surveyed a few of the refugees gathered here, we discovered that both Millicent Sarson and Heddie Koppen perished.” His voice was hard and flinty, like he didn’t quite believe the words he’d just said. “The remaining City Councilmembers and I are rationing food supplies and keeping the peace between the refugees while we figure out a way to mount a resistance against the Cerls, but if the cave-ins keep happening, we’re going to have to send people back to the surface soon. It’s hardly safer down here than up there.”
Kase couldn’t help the quiver in his voice. “And there’s no way we can fight back? Are we certain all the pilots are dead?”
“Without the Hover Colonel, I’ve been forced to rely on word of mouth and three traumatized greenies not yet called up, but the gaping holes in the airfields and wreckage of other hovers on the city outskirts do not leave much hope.”
Kase fell back into the small chair. Dead. Every last person. “And the ones on missions elsewhere?”
“We can’t be sure, but it seems you saw enough in Nar to guess.”
Kase worked his jaw, trying to tamper his grief. All the names and faces of those he knew flashed in his mind, but he couldn’t pause to think on any of them. Otherwise he might fall apart. “Greenies can fly well enough.”
Harlan sighed. “We can’t force them to fly. It’s practically suicide. One is Laurence Hixon, if that tells you anything.”
Kase winced. Hixon was the greenie that he’d fought in the duel all those months ago. So three greenies…but all untried washouts.
“Then you have no choice but to use me. The Cerl hover isn’t anything like I’ve flown before.” Kase pushed past his shock about the Crews. “It’s almost intuitive. The Cerls won’t realize I’m the one flying until it’s too late.”
“Absolutely not.”
Kase stood again. He gestured wildly with his hands. “It’s what I was trained to do, and if it helps turn the tide even a little, it’s worth it. I could do short flyovers, take a few out at a time, and—”
“No.”
“But—”
