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With a great groan of tortured metal, the flaming airship began falling from the sky, bits of fiery debris floating downward.

Merrik gritted his teeth, his heart pounding in his ears. A hole in his leg. A head dizzy from the drain of his magic. A dead aeroplane that he had to wrestle to the ground and hope he didn’t crash. Again.

Except this time, his choices were to dive, risk losing control, and crashing or to stay his current course and risk having a burning airship crash on top of him.

Somewhere behind him, Fieran would be in the same trouble. Would he and Fieran crash again, this time fatally?

Adry. She’d lose both of them, and it would destroy her. She wouldn’t grieve. No, she’d get angry, and in that anger she would tear into Mongavaria with a vengeance that would be terrible in its destruction. Only her dacha could hold her back, and he’d likely be right there with her in his own grief.

Merrik swallowed, his chest tight, his hands shaking from both the tension and the magical exhaustion. The blistering heat of the blazing airship pressed down on him, the groaning, tearing sounds growing far too close.

Something large moved into the corner of his vision. He shot a glance at the aeroplane next to his. Fieran, also trying to outrun the crashing airship.

Wait one blasted second…Merrik whirled back and gaped. Fieran’s aeroplane was wreathed in blue magic, its propeller whipping the air in a steady hum of power. Had Fieran never lost power like Merrik had?

Fieran, of course, was grinning. He gave a slight wave before his aeroplane swooped closer, their wings nearly touching. The blue magic leapt from Fieran’s aeroplane to Merrik’s, the bolts crackling over the network of protective wires strengthened with Pip’s magic.

Yet even the protective magic wasn’t enough to stop a chunk of debris from crashing through Merrik’s left wings. His aeroplane wobbled, and he wrestled with the control stick to prevent the wobble from turning into a death spiral.

What was Fieran planning to do? The protective shield of his magic was helpful, but not enough to save him if the airship crashed onto his head. Unless Fieran planned to incinerate the whole airship—something he could do at full magical strength, but he likely didn’t have nearly enough magic now—the thin layer of protection wouldn’t save Merrik.

The heat grew, burning like an intense sunburn on the back of his neck. They had only minutes, if that, before the airship crashed into them.

Fieran’s magic leapt from the protective wires, coating the machine guns and glowing somewhere deep inside the aeroplane’s fuselage in a way it didn’t normally. Then the engine gave a shudder. It lurched into motion, the propeller giving a few lazy spins before catching and whirring faster and faster.

What the…Merrik braced himself as his aeroplane lurched forward, under power once again. His sluggish mind struggled to whirl back to life along with his aeroplane’s engine. Was Fieran powering his aeroplane?

He must be. Likely, he was directly powering his own aeroplane as well.

As the two of them shot into the clear blue sky, the burning and blackened hulk of the airship plunged past, the air currents tossing both of their aeroplanes as the heat collided with the colder breezes. Flying as close as they were, only their skill kept their aeroplanes from crashing into each other.

Once both of them regained control, Merrik met Fieran’s gaze across the distance and gave him a nod of thanks. That had been far too close.

Fieran’s grin had faded, though a faint quirk remained, as if he’d guessed exactly what had been going through Merrik’s head a few moments ago. Then he nodded, the gesture more an unspoken acknowledgment than mere acceptance. Fieran had Merrik’s back, and Merrik had Fieran’s. And the two of them wouldn’t want to face battle any other way.

Chapter

Twenty

Adry peered out the train’s window, resisting the urge to press her face to the glass like a child. The grimy quality of the glass helped with her self-control.

She probably shouldn’t be so eager. She had finally been sent to the front. With the Wall coming down and the invasion into Mongavaria rumbling forward, nearly every Laesornysh was needed at the front. As much as she regretted the loss of life, she couldn’t regret that she was getting her chance to join the war at last.

With a screech, the train shuddered as it slowed to a halt next to a wooden platform that seemed relatively unscathed. Through the filthy haze on the pane, she could make out her dacha’s silver-blond hair and her brother’s bright red hair where they stood a few yards from the platform. A few other people gathered around them, and Adry tried to pick out Merrik from the others. His chestnut hair didn’t stand out as much as her family’s.

Her swords already resting across her back, Adry gathered her bag and strode down the aisle while the train was still moving, positioning herself before the door as the train finally came to a full halt.

As soon as the conductor opened the door, she jumped down the stairs and landed on the platform, her lungs filling with the stench of ash and gunpowder.

Here in the sunlight, her gaze landed squarely on Merrik. He was already bounding up the stairs toward her, only the faintest hitch to the movements, a broad grin on his face and gleaming in his eyes.

“Merrik!” She dropped her bag and flung herself at him.

He gave a laugh and wrapped his arms around her, his strength and warmth enveloping her in a way that finally soothed the ache in her heart that had been a constant pressure from the moment he’d left.

She would have sighed at the relief of being in his arms if he hadn’t kissed her, right there in front of her brother and both of their dachas. It was such a bold gesture for Merrik that she found herself smiling, even as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

When he pulled back slightly, she murmured, “That was brave of you.”