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Merrik directed his aeroplane and the following aeroplanes between the crashing airships as Fieran and Uncle Farrendel tore into the airships and the aerodrome below. What Fieran and Uncle Farrendel didn’t destroy, the Half-Breed Squadron did with the incendiary bombs tucked beneath their aeroplanes’ wings.
That should create more than enough panic to encourage the airships to take off and scatter, ensuring that the Mongavarians wouldn’t notice when one of their airships was hijacked.
Once he’d reached the far side of the aerodrome, Merrik looped his aeroplane to make a second run.
The radio crackled a moment before Sticky’s voice filled the airwaves. “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.”
Merrik waited a heartbeat for Fieran to answer. But when he glanced over his shoulder, Fieran was moving about in the confined space of the second seat, gathering his swords and the two packs he would carry when he jumped.
Oh, right. Captain. That was Merrik.
“I agree. That one will work well.” Merrik took in the swathe of destruction the squadron had carved across the middle of the aerodrome. Black smoke filled the air as buildings and airships burned. Yet the airships on either side remained untouched, and they were scrambling to get into the air as quickly as they could.
Merrik pointed his aeroplane’s nose in that direction. “Half-Breed, we’re making a low pass over the airships to the south for our drop-off.”
The pilots acknowledged, the biplanes falling into formation once again. Yet this time, the single-seat aeroplanes overshot Merrik, Aylia, Stickyfingers, and Lije in the two-seaters. The squadron descended on the aerodrome, breaking into smaller formations of four aeroplanes each as they attacked individual targets and created even more chaos.
With that distraction, hopefully none of those in the surrounding airships would notice what was happening.
“Aylia, make your run.” Merrik slowed his aeroplane, hanging back.
Aylia dove toward their target, pulled up, tilted her biplane on its side, and cut her engine so that her aeroplane all but stalled only feet above the top of the airship.
Uncle Farrendel leapt from the rear seat, his silver-blond hair glinting in the firelight. He landed lightly in a crouch, as if dropping from a moving aeroplane was no big deal.
One away. Merrik toggled the talk button once again. “Sticky, your turn. The rest of you, prepare to switch on the protective magic.”
The protective wires around their aeroplanes provided a way for Fieran and Uncle Farrendel to actively send their magic over the aeroplanes in a shield. But Pip had also recently rigged a magical power cell that could send stored magic over the wires from a secondary magical power cell. It wouldn’t be as strong as the active magic, and they’d only have a limited time before the magical power cell was drained. In a pinch, she’d added a bypass switch so the shield could be powered by the same main magical power cell that propelled the engine. But that was only for emergencies, as one didn’t want to risk losing engine power altogether.
The shields would make it look to the Mongavarians like Fieran and Uncle Farrendel were still in the aeroplanes and involved in the fighting.
Sticky, too, swung over the target airship, all but stalling his aeroplane as he put it on its side. Prince Edmund leapt, landing more heavily than Uncle Farrendel had.
As Uncle Farrendel and Prince Edmund made their way along the spine of the airship, opened a hatch, and disappeared inside, Uncle Farrendel’s magic winked out on those aeroplanes he’d been protecting.
Only a second later, blue magic crackled to life around those aeroplanes once again as the pilots switched on the protective shields.
Merrik’s turn. He swept his aeroplane toward the airship, his hands steady despite the pounding of his heart.
“Happy flying, Half-Breed Squadron.” Fieran’s voice was rough. “I look forward to toasting to victory with all of you in a few weeks.”
This parting was only temporary. Fieran and Pip would be back soon. Fieran’s dacha and uncle shortly after that. If all went well, the war would be over in mere weeks.
Merrik didn’t toggle the talk button. He and Fieran had already said everything that needed to be said.
Instead, Lije’s voice filled the radio. “Take care of yourself and Pip.”
“And bring back Pretty Face.” Sticky’s voice was choked.
Just the thought of Pretty Face put a lump in Merrik’s throat. Was Pretty Face being held at this secret Mongavarian facility? No one knew for sure, and the squadron wouldn’t find out the answer until Fieran and Pip returned with the rescued prisoners in tow.
They reached the airship, and Merrik switched the engine off, letting the two-seater fly by momentum alone. Then they were above it, and Merrik wrestled the aeroplane’s nose upward, putting it into a stall as he tilted it sideways.
Fieran briefly clasped Merrik’s shoulder, then he leapt.
Merrik craned his neck, peering over the side. Fieran landed in a roll, coming up on a knee. He was all right.
And now Merrik needed to concentrate on flying before he joined the fireballs and wreckage filling the aerodrome.