Page 21 of Magick and Lead
It was the primary source of the petrol that fueled our planes and automobiles. And since travelling to Maethalia, I’d learned it was a sacred land for them, too, one of the only places in the world where dragons went to roost. The island was crucial to the power of both nations. And so, the brutal war over therocky, barren stretch of land had persisted year upon weary year, taking countless lives in the process.
Once, I had imagined being the one to end the long war with some incredibly heroic act of killing. The older and more cynical I became, the more likely it seemed that I’d die there instead, one more pilot brought down in flames, one more corpse clapped in the Boneyard’s eternal embrace.
Now, all of it seemed foolish. Ludicrous, even. Why should I die here? Why should anyone, when there were so many good things in life to be enjoyed?
I thought of Essa… just a flash, before pushing her out of my mind again.
Instead, I forced my mind to the young men and women down there in the muddy trenches. One of them was my little brother, Joey, whom I hadn’t seen in over two years. They were the reason I couldn’t just turn wing and head back to base. Because their lives were on the line—and they were counting on help from the skies to keep them alive today.
But there was no more time for deep thoughts. Dorhane was coming up fast.
Our mission had two parts. First, we were to split off to the north of the island and do some reconnaissance. Supposedly, there had been unusual naval activity off Rograd Point. Then, we were to loop back and approach the island from the east, where we would rendezvous with Blaize’s squadron to provide air support for a planned offensive along the front.
“Here we go,” I muttered, dropping altitude for approach. Already, I could see activity on the rocky point, light glinting in unusual colors. Dragon scales.
Shit.
I’d anticipated we might face golenae today, but not dragons.
Perhaps I could skirt the northern edge of the peninsula from a distance and avoid being spotted…
But no. Already the dragons were launching, their wings beating as they lifted one by one into the air. At least two dozen of them. I cursed under my breath.
Just a few months ago, I’d have been grinning ear-to-ear at the chance to take on these dragons and their riders. But now, as they winged toward us, all I could think of were Parthar’s big, fiery orange eyes. Perhaps because of the proximity of these dragons, I could feel Parthar better than I had in weeks. I could almost hear him.
I’m here, Charlie. Come find me.
The connection with him swelled in my chest, like the rising of some powerful emotion, and I set my teeth on edge, trying to keep it at bay. I couldn’t fight these dragons. Not like this. Not with Parthar inside me, watching through my eyes. Not when these were probably Essa’s friends and comrades, sent to guard the sacred hatching grounds. Maybe she was even among them, I thought, hoping and dreading it all at once.
But though there were dragons of many hues winging toward us, I saw at a glance that none wore Othura’s silvery gray scales. Still, Pocha, Dagar, and Lure might be there. Or other riders who were allies with Essa and were necessary to keeping the golenae at bay.
No… I couldn’t fight them. Couldn’t risk harming them. Instead, I banked right, toward the southern end of the island, and the planes following me all banked, too—though I could imagine their grumbling as I deviated from the plan.
We’d just meet up with Blaize’s squadron. Mow down some Lacunae and golenae, head back to base, and call it a day.
Except when I looked back, the dragons were following us—and gaining.
“Come on, dammit. We’re leaving the hatching grounds alone,” I muttered. “We don’t want to fight you.”
I hoped perhaps Parthar would be able to relay my thoughts to the riders. But the telepathic communications between dragons and riders were quixotic, and my connection to Parthar was tenuous at best. Even if he did somehow relay my message to the riders behind us, I wasn’t sure if I knew any of them. They’d have no context to understand an ace communicating with them via dragon. And so, they continued, still coming, still gaining.
Ahead, smoke rose from the cratered earth, and the crackle of gunfire rose on the wind. I spotted Blaize’s squadron, mere dots at first against the blue of the sky. But the dots weren’t all planes, I saw as we neared. There had to be at least a hundred golenae there as well, gray monsters of all shapes and sizes, darting about and harrying the planes as they tried to avoid their attacks and hit their targets on the ground.
Damn…
As I watched, a new wave of golenae rose from the ground—most of them shaped like huge bats. As Blaize’s squadron took evasive action to avoid them, their formation deteriorated into chaos.
So much for an easy trip back to base.
I heard a roar behind me and looked back just as a bright burst of flame torched the two rearmost planes in my squadron. The dragons had caught up to us.
Snarling with frustration, I banked and dove. With my thumb, I released the safety on my cannons and straightened myself out until my flight path was in line with the trenches below. We needed to get the hell out of here, but I wasn’t leaving until I’d at least lit up a few Lacunae first. When I was lined up, I opened fire. Clods of dirt flew, and shouts came from below as my shots hit home. Behind me, my squadmates opened fire, too, unleashing a thunderous sound and lashing the ground with their fire until one wall of the trench collapsed.
But we couldn’t stay at this altitude for long. Already, I could see serpentine tendrils of black rising from below us and to our left, behind enemy lines. The mages of the Gray Brothers were working their dark magick. Fly too low, and their void power could touch you and wreak unpredictable havoc. Make planes go haywire. Make pilots go mad. I pulled up, banking right again. Another of the dragons caught one of my squadmates from behind, grabbing the plane’s upper wings in its talons and riding it down until it hit the earth in an explosion of dirt.
Suddenly, a huge golena was in front of me. I didn’t know where the hell it came from or what it was supposed to be—it was like a massive, winged crocodile, its jaws wide open as it streaked toward me. I lit it up with my cannons, but the shots barely seemed to have an effect. It streaked toward me on a collision course. I tilted slightly right, pulled up a little—and squeezed the trigger on my cannons again. Bracing myself for a crash-landing in its savage jaws. But at the last second, my bullet found one of its eyes. The thing’s left wing went limp, and it tumbled from the sky. I was about to breathe a sigh of relief—when the monster’s tail lashed upward once as it fell and clipped my right lower wing.
The plane shook from the impact and I looked over to see that the front of the wing had been smashed. It would still fly, but its speed and maneuverability would be compromised.
