Page 18 of Storm to Victory
After strolling to the mansion, Fieran stepped inside the marble-floored, mahogany-paneled foyer, the grand staircase rising before him. In the nearest parlor, Tiny sprawled on one of the couches, snoring uproariously as he slept. A few others lounged on the other couches or even the soft carpet on the floor, also sleeping soundly after the long day of flying.
Very few of the elven pilots were around, but the rush of water through the pipes sounded throughout the house. The elves must have beaten the humans in the race for the showers.
After turning down the corridor that held the rooms for the upper staff, Fieran found Merrik pacing back and forth in the modest hallway. Merrik had replaced his prosthetic limb with the straight-shafted peg leg that strapped to his knee, letting him rest his stump and his magic.
“You’re restless.” Fieran slouched against the wall. All he wanted to do was get to his room, take a shower, and crash for an hour before supper. “I was expecting you to be headed for the showers or relaxing like the others.”
Merrik sighed and leaned against the wall a few feet away. “I know. I should. But…” He sighed again, his gaze dropping to the floor. For a long moment, he didn’t speak, as if gathering himself. “I was worried during her first week on the front lines. But we were so busy flying up and down the border that I could set my worries aside. Today, I saw the battle she faced. And I just…I need to know she is all right. I know it is foolish. If she were injured, you would have been informed. I need to trust that she can take care of herself. I just wish I could see for myself.”
Fieran squeezed his eyes shut and let his head fall back. If Pip were the one fighting, it would eat him alive not to see her at the end of the day to reassure himself she was all right. He remembered all too well the fear gripping him when Pip had gone into battle to retrieve those machines a few weeks ago.
Pip wasn’t a trained warrior like Adry was, although Pip’s magic still meant she could take care of herself amid everything from battles to bombings.
Adry was a warrior. Trained by Dacha and wielding the magic of the ancient kings. It would take a lot before she was hurt. Yes, Fieran was worried about his little sister facing battle, but it was easier for him, given that he knew the strength of magic she wielded. Not to mention, Dacha was with her. Fieran knew exactly how far Dacha would go to protect his children.
Fieran suppressed a sigh. The last thing he wanted to do was fly more today after all the hours they’d spent in the cockpit.
But this was Merrik. And Adry. And Fieran would do anything for the two of them.
He pushed away from the wall. “Then let’s commandeer an aeroplane, go AWOL, and steal Adry away from her commanding officer.”
That familiar thrill at doing something impulsive glowed in his chest. Incandescently warm and heady and crackling like his magic.
Merrik gaped at Fieran, his mouth working slightly.
With a shake of his head, Fieran stuck his hand out to Merrik. “And before you break your brain trying to figure out if your love for Adry outweighs your love of common sense, remember, I’m the highest ranked officer here at our temporary aerodrome. I’m pretty sure I can authorize a scouting mission whenever I want. If we want to land near the front lines to consult with one of the generals, who’s going to stop us? Dacha certainly isn’t going to stop Adry from leaving her post for a few minutes to talk to you.”
It would probably be more than talking, but Fieran wasn’t about to say “kiss you” out loud.
His grin spreading slowly across his face and into his eyes, Merrik gripped Fieran’s hand and let him pull him upright. “I suppose I will let you drag me into something reckless. Again.”
“Admit it. You don’t mind this kind of recklessness as much as you pretend.” Fieran’s grin was so wide it hurt, buoyed as he was by that thrill.
“I am not going to confirm or deny anything.” But Merrik, too, was grinning that way he always did when Fieran was about to drag them into something fun.
This time, they likely weren’t going to get into trouble, and that dimmed the excitement somewhat. Besides, Fieran had turned over a new leaf. Nothing reckless that would endanger others. Since this wouldn’t do that, it was perfectly fine.
“I’m flying. Grab your leg and a camera. You can snap a few photographs on our way over to cover our butts if anyone questions us.” Fieran patted Merrik’s shoulder before he headed outdoors once again.
The two-seater biplanesoared over the darkening fields and roads that stretched between their small haven and the battlelines. The front lines had been pushed miles deeper into Mongavaria over the course of the day, but now both armies were busy digging in, fortifying their positions with trenches and earthworks.
Fieran flew high over the new lines, tipping the aeroplane so that he could locate where Dacha and Adry were holed up and give Merrik a chance to take a few photographs. The low light wasn’t ideal, but the long shadows would reveal features that would be hidden in pictures taken in better light.
He sensed the crackle of magic before he spotted the faint blue glow embedded into the ground far below. Dacha or Adry must have placed an alert around where the two of them were camped.
Luckily, there was a nice open farm field only a few hundred yards behind the Alliance lines at that point. Perfect spot to land an aeroplane and still be able to take off again afterward.
Fieran circled once before he lined up on the farm field, easing the scout aeroplane lower. The wheels touched down, then bumped over the rough rows. Something squished and spattered up onto the aeroplane. Was that a pumpkin? Great. This aeroplane was going to be splattered with pumpkin guts by the end of this trip.
The aeroplane rolled to a halt at the far end of the field, its nose pointed toward the front lines.
Fieran unbuckled his lap belt and peeled off his cap and goggles. Yet Merrik was already scrambling out of the aeroplane, his boots hitting the ground before Fieran had so much as levered himself out of his seat.
A leather- and armor-clad figure was already dashing toward them, her red-gold hair flying behind her. “Merrik!”
Merrik dodged several large pumpkins and swept her up into his arms, holding her close as she pressed her face against his shoulder.
Fieran hopped to the ground, his boots sinking into the soft soil of the field. Great. He was going to have to wash his flight boots after this.
