Page 95 of Magick and Lead
But if they did see her. If the squadron spotted her, caught up to her, opened fire on her…?
No. It was too large a risk to take.
I would burn it all down. I would throw it all away. For Essa, I would do it a thousand times over.
And so, I squared up behind Blaize’s tail, adjusted my flight path until he was squarely in my crosshairs….
And fired.
It was just a quick burst, enough to rip a few tatters in Blaize’s lower right wing—but it had the desired effect. He immediately took evasive action, diving and banking left, and since he was the leader, the whole squadron followed. I, on the other hand, banked right, making a 180-degree turn until I was heading back south, toward the base. And I pushed the throttle to the max.
Now they had a choice. Continue on their planned flight path north—or turn and follow me. It didn’t take a genius to guess which path Blaize would choose. And when I looked back, my assumption was confirmed.
Blaize and the whole squadron fell in behind me, their engines louder than rolling thunder, and over their din, I heard the crackle of a machine gun as the first tracer rounds whizzed past my wings.
Here we go…
I jogged right. Dipped. Climbed and then barrel-rolled left. I could almost feel Blaize’s irritation as he tried to match my motions and get a bead on me.
Lucky for me, the rest of the squadron wasn’t about to open fire on the iconic Silver Wraith... not yet, anyway. But I couldfeel them there, the presence of all those planes, all those guns, bearing down on me. If they did decide to open fire, I’d be shredded, burning, and falling in a heartbeat.
Go, Essa. The path is clear. Cross to Maethalia,I thought. But I could tell she didn’t receive the message.Dammit.
Blaize kept trying to blast me out of the sky, his gun thundering, tracers sizzling past. And I kept dodging, sweat slicking my forehead, my hand aching on the stick, my heart thudding in my ears, my mind reeling with the knowledge that if I made one wrong move, if Blaize’s guns caught me with a solid hit, I was a dead man.
We were nearing the base again, and beyond it, the gray skyscrapers of Ironberg. And?—
What the hell was that?
To my left, out in the ocean, almost lost in the hazy distance, it looked like hundreds of dots on the water. For a second, I thought I was getting spots on my vision from all the drastic maneuvers I was pulling. But no. I blinked, and the dots were still there. Dim yellow lights. They were real. I dropped altitude and squinted out over the water. As the distance melted away, I saw that the dots were in fact lights on ships. There had to be hundreds of them—thousands, maybe.
What the hell was this?
I should be heading back to base, landing to face court martial—before Blaize could shoot me out of the sky and kill me. But something wasn’t right. As many flights as I’d made over the ocean, I’d never seen so many ships. And so, I banked left, heading further out to sea, still jogging left and right all the while to dodge Blaize’s gunfire, which had grown sporadic now as he sought to conserve ammo.
As the first ships drew near, I dropped altitude, trying to get a good look. The moonlight lent just enough illumination for meto make out ships. They had high prows, silver-timbered hulls, and an array of triangular sails in a strange configuration.
They were sylph barges, and they were a hell of a long ways north from their home ports in Koratain. It wasn’t unusual to see sylph ships in these waters. The sylph were known as the merchant people, and they traded freely throughout the world. Some said that the only winner of the war between Admar and Maethalia were the sylph, who profited handsomely selling arms, steel, and provisions to both sides. But this wasn’t just a few trading ships. It was thousands.
As I passed over a ship now, I saw that its deck was laden with crates. That also wasn’t unusual. Except as I watched, one of the crates burst open. I tilted, banking to get a better look, and saw something crawling out of the box. Red eyes, gray wings. A golenae. As I watched with growing horror, the other crates began bursting open, too. I looked out across the sea to the next ship. The crates on its deck were cracking like eggs as well, revealing more golenae.
Sophi in heaven…
It was Issastar all over again. The same devastation that had befallen Maethalia was about to happen in Admar. I had to warn Peckham, had to—a burst of gunfire erupted from behind me and I felt the plane around me vibrate as the shots found their target.
Blaize, you dumb son of a bitch. Can’t you see I’m the least of your worries right now?
But it was too late. Smoke billowed from my engine. Half blinded by it, I banked, pointing the plane back toward McNally airbase, and pushed the throttle.
When these golenae arrived in Ironberg, there’d be a bloodbath. Civilians. Women. Children. Everyone. Millions. I had to get there first to warn Peckham, so he could sound the alarm and evacuate the city. That, or die trying.
43
ROHREE
Out of the forest they came. Lacunae on sleek black horses, their dark armor glinting in the starlight. Deranged, brainwashed commoners bearing rusty swords, pitchforks and scythes. Ravens, flying from tree to tree above, giving raucous calls as if to say,here they are. Attack!
Behind them came a wave of golenae, their glowing red eyes unblinking, their misshapen bodies lurching among the trees. And amidst all of it, she could feel the power of the witch. Her energy seemed to steal the air, leaving Rohree breathless.
