Page 83

He switched on the engine, the propeller whirring back to life. The aeroplane surged, and he tumbled out of the stall. Righting his aeroplane, he roared back into the sky. He pressed the talk button. “Fieran is away.”

Lije’s voice crackled over the radio. “Look after our major for us, will you?”

He must have been talking to Pip in his rear seat.

Moments later, Sticky’s voice added, “Yeah. Don’t let him do anything too crazy.”

“I’ll try. But you know Fieran.” Pip’s voice was shaky, even obscured by the radio static.

After a moment, Lije’s voice sounded more formal. “Coming in for drop-off.” Several minutes passed in a breathless pause, then, “Pip’s away.”

Merrik released a long breath. His part of the mission was complete, and the command of the Half-Breed Squadron now firmly rested on his shoulders. “Good job, everyone. We will continue to cause chaos and keep the other airships away from them as they make their escape.”

Merrik tottered toward the mansion on the hill from where he’d parked his aeroplane beneath the line of stately trees. All of his muscles were stiff from the long flight, and weariness pressed onto his shoulders. By the time they’d landed, it was well into the wee hours of the morning. They’d have only a few hours of sleep before they’d be expected to be on standby in case the invasion force needed air cover.

He trudged up the gravel drive, nodding to the ground crew and the mechanics who were still awake to see to the aeroplanes. His legs ached, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

Mak strode out of the night, crossing his arms. “She’s away?”

“Yes.” Merrik reached up to briefly clasp Mak’s shoulder. Mak hadn’t been too thrilled when his little sister got sent on a mission into Mongavaria without him.

Mak nodded before he fell into step with Merrik, the two of them walking the rest of the way to the mansion.

When Merrik stepped inside the foyer, he found the pilots, both elf and human, gathered there rather than heading for their beds. All of them were just standing there, silent. That silence further emphasized the gaping emptiness of Fieran’s absence. The heart of the squadron had been yanked out, and it seemed they didn’t know how to function now.

He couldn’t leave them like this. They had a hard-scrabble fight ahead of them, and they couldn’t go into it already disheartened.

Merrik faced them, drawing himself straighter. “I know you are all missing Fieran. I am too.”

He took in all their faces. Lije. Stickyfingers. Aylia. Murray. Tiny. Nellie and the other human flygirls. The elven pilots who had such stern expressions, though he could read their emotions in their eyes.

All of them were depending on him now. He couldn’t let them down. Nor could he let them wallow.

“The other squadrons will be watching us, wondering if we will break now that we do not have our Laesornysh.” Merrik swept a glance over all of them, clinging to the pride in his squadron flowing through him.

They had been without Fieran before, during those two weeks when Fieran had been recovering in Aldon. But based on the letters Merrik had read, the squadron hadn’t had to go into battle during the time Fieran was gone. This time, they would.

And the battles they’d face would be hard. Mongavaria’s forces were in retreat, and when they decided to hit back, they’d come out biting with the ferocity of a cornered wolf.

“But we will not break.” Merrik’s voice strengthened with his own determination. “We will prove that Fieran wasn’t the only one who made this squadron great. Each one of you is the heart of this squadron, and you will show your heart of courage in these next weeks. We were there at Fort Linder when this war began, and we will be there, defending the skies, when this war ends.”

A few of the human flyboys cheered. The rest of them were grinning and slapping each other on their backs, and even the flygirls joined in. Most of the elven pilots had the faint hints of smiles playing at the corners of their mouths.

Good. They had their confidence back.

“Now, everyone, head to bed and attempt to snatch some sleep. We will have another long day ahead of us tomorrow.” Merrik put the edge of an order into those words.

The pilots understood that edge because they scattered quickly.

Once he was sure everyone was headed for bed, Merrik turned down the hall for his own bed. Here, the quiet closed around him once again, oppressive and ringing as he passed Fieran’s empty room, Rothilion’s empty room beyond his own.

Entering his bedchamber, he sank onto the edge of his bed, the metal frame creaking.

The command of the squadron—the decisions that could mean life or death for those men and women who trusted him—now rested on his shoulders.

He couldn’t let them down.

Chapter