Page 40 of Storm to Victory
“Legendary.” Merrik snorted. “That has always been more your thing than mine. I will settle for unassumingly competent.”
“You’re greater than you think you are.” Fieran dropped his hand as the low lights of the airship base came into view ahead. Airships hovered in the sky, keeping guard, while airship upon airship lined up at docks near the ground, waiting for refits or supplies. “I think you’ll make a few legends for yourself whether you want to or not.”
“That is not as comforting as you think it is.” Merrik reached around to hold out his hand over his shoulder. “Stay safe. Do not do anything too reckless. I am counting on Pip to get both of you back more or less in one piece.”
Fieran took Merrik’s hand and gave a firm shake. This was it. Moments from now, they’d part, likely until the end of the war, depending on how long it took Fieran and Pip to fight their way across Mongavaria after rescuing the prisoners.
Withdrawing his hand, Merrik faced forward again, tugging the flaps of his flight cap back into place as a burst of chatter filled the radio.
The aeroplanes of the Half-Breed Squadron swept into a formation of two columns, preparing to attack the guarding airships.
Fieran listened to the orders given back and forth over the radio, the sounds of the fighters going into battle. He was strangely detached instead of being at the heart of the action like he usually was.
Merrik directed his two-seater toward the front of the formation, and Aylia mirrored his movements until their two aeroplanes flew side by side.
Fieran glanced over at the other aeroplane, his dacha so bundled underneath flight cap, coat, and goggles that even his distinctive hair wasn’t visible. His dacha’s goggles swung in his direction, and Fieran gave a small wave.
Dacha nodded back before his magic sprang around his fingertips.
Fieran, too, drew on his magic, letting it pour from his chest to crackle around his hands. He reached over the side of the aeroplane and shoved his magic outward, stretching for the other aeroplanes.
Dacha did the same so that all aeroplanes were covered with each of them only using a portion of their magic.
The large guns below boomed, and the airborne airships turned toward them, their guns barking as well. The bullets burst against the dual shields of Dacha’s and Fieran’s magic, the fire from the ground as useless as always.
Fieran peered through the gunfire, blue magic, and smoke, searching the airships. He didn’t see any with a network of wires and a machine dangling below, nor could he feel any tugs on his magic. Hopefully Uncle Edmund’s information was accurate, and the machines hadn’t been delivered to this aerodrome yet.
If everything went well tonight, this aerodrome would be in tatters by morning, and the shipment of machines would bederailed by the mission of the squadron of fighters and bombers flying out of one of the aerodromes farther south in Escarland.
“Half-Breed, let us attack with everything we have.” Merrik shot another glance over his shoulder. “One last time with Laesornysh on board.”
“For Laesornysh!” The shout echoed through the radio as the rest of the squadron swept in behind Merrik and Aylia.
Fieran grinned as he let his magic build within his chest. He pressed the talk button built into the side of the aeroplane next to the spot where the wire from his flight cap plugged in. “For the Half-Breed Squadron!”
“For the Half-Breed Squadron!” the voices on the radio shouted.
As Merrik bore down on the first airship in line, Fieran unleashed the magic building in his chest and cast a bolt filled with power straight at it.
This airship didn’t yet have that deflecting magic placed on it, and the outer dirigible layer vaporized in a moment. Explosions burst within it, and it tilted downward in a groan of metal.
More blue magic engulfed a second airship, consuming it.
Merrik pointed the aeroplane between the two crashing airships, leading the Half-Breed Squadron into the center of the airship line.
Fieran poured his magic over the airships, sending wreck after wreck plunging toward the aerodrome below. Several of the airships tied to the docks caught on fire or crumpled as wreckage crashed into them. What wasn’t hit by wreckage, the squadron destroyed as they swept low over their targets before dropping their small incendiary bombs.
He’d forgotten just how easy it was to destroy a fleet that wasn’t protected by that deflecting magic or magic-stealing machines. Especially with his dacha doing half of the destroying.
At the far side of the aerodrome, Merrik wheeled the aeroplane around, losing altitude as he did so.
Once he leveled out of the turn, Fieran unbuckled his lap belt and wiggled about the confined space to pull one pack onto his back over his swords and situate the other across his chest.
Aylia and Stickyfingers executed their turns as well, maneuvering so that they were ahead of Merrik. Lije, with Pip in his second seat, followed Merrik and Fieran.
“Captain, Prince Edmund has requested that we target the final airship in line to the south. It appears to be taking longer to get into the sky than the others.” Sticky’s voice crackled over the radio. He and Uncle Edmund were flying in an older two-seater that didn’t have radio wires rigged for the second seat.
Merrik tilted the aeroplane to give them a better view of the aerodrome. Most of the middle of the aerodrome had been devastated. Fires burned in many of the buildings, and even as Fieran watched, one of the warehouses went up in a massive ball of fire. To either side, the undamaged airships were slowly rising into the air with the ones at the farthest end of the line seemingly waiting for those closer to the destruction to get off first.
