Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
Fieran’s ears were still buzzing with his uncle’s words, and he couldn’t manage to take in the brief discussion that followed before Uncle Julien dismissed everyone.
Fieran pushed from the wall to move, but Uncle Iyrinder reached out a hand, stopping him. When Fieran glanced at him, Uncle Iyrinder gave him a shake of the head.
Between them, Merrik’s jaw was working, as if he’d realized something that Fieran hadn’t yet managed to put together.
The generals gave Fieran and his friends a variety of looks as they filed from the room.
A few were curious while others were more hostile, as if they were wondering why this handful of captains and a major would be entitled to stay and hear the details of a secret mission when they, the generals actually running this war, were kept mostly in the dark.
Once the last of the generals had left the room, closing the door behind him, Dacha strode forward, regarding Uncle Julien with a steely glare. “I do not like this plan. You are sending one of my children into Mongavaria.”
Apparently he had no problem with being sent himself, just that either Fieran or Adry were going with him.
“I don’t particularly like it either.” Uncle Julien pressed both hands to the table, a hint of weariness in the line of his shoulders. “But you heard our alternatives. I don’t like the other choices even more.”
Dacha’s jaw worked, as if he wanted to object but couldn’t.
Perhaps that had been part of the point of that meeting, to prove to Dacha that the plan Fieran’s uncles were about to unveil was the only viable option.
Fieran squeezed Pip’s fingers before he released her hand and strode closer to the table. She crept behind him, her steps tentative.
“I don’t like it either. And you should have heard the lecture Weylind gave me when he heard the plan.” Uncle Edmund held Dacha’s gaze. “But I understand. My daughter has been facing this danger for two years already. The sooner we end this war, the safer all our children will be.”
Dacha sighed and the set of his shoulders relaxed somewhat. “I still do not like it.”
Uncle Edmund held Dacha’s gaze for another moment before he turned to face the rest of them, beckoning them forward.
Merrik, Adry, and Rothilion caught up with Fieran and Pip, and they took the spots around the table that the generals had occupied earlier. Dacha and Uncle Iyrinder slipped into the final places next to Uncle Julien.
Uncle Edmund pointed at a spot on the map along the defensive Empress Line.
“There’s an airship dock here that we’ve been saving to bomb for a special occasion.
Word has reached me that they will be getting a shipment of those machines to install on the airships in a week.
That gives us a small window where a large number of airships will be docked in one place and won’t have those machines yet.
In case of a raid by the Half-Breed Squadron, the airships are under orders to take off and scatter to avoid being easily taken out by Fieran. ”
He wasn’t sure if he should be flattered that the Mongavarians had contingencies specifically for him. But considering how many airships he’d taken down, it was valid.
“The Half-Breed Squadron will attack the airship docks.” Uncle Julien tapped the aerodrome on the map before moving his finger to point at another spot farther south.
“Another squadron of fighters and bombers will attack the railyard here to attempt to prevent those machines ever reaching any of the airships. If we are especially fortunate on our timing, we’ll hit the train transporting the machines. ”
“Either way, during the chaos of the bombing, we’ll hijack one of the airships.
” Uncle Edmund spoke as if hijacking enemy aircraft was no big deal.
“They’ll be lightly staffed while at dock, and we’ll get it off the ground before the crew has the chance to return.
Those left behind won’t think anything of it, since the orders to flee include leaving anyone behind who can’t get on board before the airship takes off.
We’ll fly the airship to Ludin, using the Mongavarian codes to get past the aerial blockade, and rescue the prisoners. ”
“Once the facility is secure and the prisoners rescued, they will be escorted back to Escarland, either in the airship or on the ground as necessary.” Uncle Julien waved his hand at the spread of photographs.
“Farrendel and Edmund will continue on to the Mongavarian capital, where they will do what is necessary to end this war. I’m afraid I can’t tell even you what that particular part of the plan involves, but I’m in contact with the navy to arrange help in that regard. ”
Rothilion cleared his throat, glancing around at all of them.
“While I have no wish to be the voice of cold reason, would it not make more sense for General Laesornysh to head straight for Landri and end the war sooner without the detour to the Ludin facility? The ogres and prisoners would essentially be rescued by the end of the war. Or they could be rescued by the other warrior of the magic of the ancient kings sent on the mission.”
“It’s quite possible that Mongavaria won’t even consider surrender until that last hope of fighting off the Alliance is snatched away.
” Uncle Julien tilted his head in a respectful nod to Rothilion.
Uncle Julien wasn’t one to discount someone’s input, even if they were a far lower rank than he was.
“Thus, I would like two warriors of the magic of the ancient kings to take on the facility to be absolutely sure it is secured as quickly as possible, especially given the danger of using magic around those machines.”
Fieran nodded, sharing a glance with Adry. Uncle Julien and Uncle Edmund hoped that, with two warriors, they’d be able to overwhelm the machines if their magic should get caught by one. That was how Dacha and Fieran had destroyed the machines they’d faced previously.
“Nor would the ogres and prisoners necessarily be freed by the end of the war.” Uncle Edmund heaved a sigh, shaking his head.
“I’ve received reports that the political situation in Mongavaria is growing shaky.
There’s every chance that Mongavaria will implode if they surrender.
At the very least, the Mongavarian army stationed around Ludin may hold out long after a surrender is announced.
They might even use the prisoners of war as hostages against us.
Besides that, it’s too much of a risk to leave the ogres and that experimental research unsecured when Mongavaria surrenders.
There’s too great a chance it will fall into the wrong hands, and if that happens, we’ll find ourselves battling rogue elements with nothing to lose and the ability to counteract our greatest strength. ”
That didn’t sound like a great option either. It was bad enough having those machines in Mongavarian hands. But the established government at least provided some measure of control over the use of them. There was no telling what someone could do if they didn’t care what chaos they caused.
Rothilion nodded. “I thank you for the clarification.”
“And Pretty Face might be there.” Fieran wasn’t sure if he was speaking to himself or to the others, but both Rothilion and Merrik nodded. Pip squeezed Fieran’s fingers.
Merrik turned to Uncle Edmund, gesturing from himself to the rest of them. “And who will be going on this mission?”
Fieran tensed, waiting for his uncle’s answer. He and his friends must be involved in some way, if his uncles had gathered them all here to go over this plan. He didn’t think they’d get such a thorough briefing if their only contribution was leading the bombing raid.
“Farrendel, Fieran, Pippak, and me.” Uncle Edmund waved to each of them as if to make sure there was no mistake in whom he was referring to.
“Pip?” Fieran started at the same time as Pip yelped, “Me?”
“Yes.” Uncle Edmund’s gaze rested on Pip.
“You have experience with both magic-powered and gas-powered engines, which will be necessary to keep the hijacked airship flying. Not to mention, your shielding magic will make you a more powerful addition to the team than any other mere mechanic. On the trip back to Escarland, you and Fieran can hold a constant shield while still allowing the other to rest. And you’re all but immune to the magic of the ancient kings so that in a fight, I will be the only one Fieran and Farrendel have to worry about accidentally incinerating. ”
“No, not Pip.” Fieran stepped in front of her, as if to protect her from his uncle’s schemes. He wasn’t doubting Pip’s courage or magic in the least.
But he agreed with his dacha. He didn’t like this plan. At all.
Pip rested a hand on his arm. “I’m officially in the army now. They actually can order me to do this.”
“But they won’t.” Fieran held Uncle Edmund’s gaze for a moment before he looked at Uncle Julien, who would likely be the more sympathetic of the two. “She’s not a warrior. She’s a mechanic. If she doesn’t want to do this, she won’t be forced.”
“No, she won’t.” Uncle Julien’s voice was low, but his gaze was unwavering.
“None of you will be forced into this.” Uncle Edmund nodded to Fieran before gesturing between Dacha and himself. “Your dacha and I will be going regardless, of course. Fieran and Pip, your participation is strictly voluntary.”
Fieran half-turned to meet Pip’s gaze. He didn’t want her to come along and experience that kind of danger. He’d been determined to do whatever it took to end the war, but risking Pip’s life on a crazy mission wasn’t what he’d had in mind.
But this was her decision, and he wouldn’t make it for her. She wasn’t a child who needed choices made for her about what danger she could handle.
No, she was a capable woman who had faced bombs and battles. Her magic was strong, and her courage even stronger.
Pip’s gaze dropped for just a moment, her shoulders hunching as if to make herself smaller.
She was silent for several moments before her posture straightened.
Her eyes flashed back up to meet his with an iron determination.
She reached out and gripped his hand again. “If you’re going, then I’m going.”
Pip would stick by his side no matter which choice he made. He clasped her hand, nodded, and turned to face his uncles again.
Dacha’s gaze and jaw were hard, his arms crossed over his chest. He was likely hoping Fieran would decide to stay here.
Yet this was everything Fieran had dreamed about as a child. Going into battle and glory at his dacha’s side, a warrior worthy of the Laesornysh name.
Now he knew there was no glory in battle. War held nothing but death and destruction. But he was still Laesornysh, and he still longed to go into battle at his dacha’s side. He knew deep within his soul that, together, he and his dacha could end this war.
Fieran glanced over his shoulder first at Rothilion, then at Merrik.
His childhood dreams might spur him to go, but his duty and loyalty to his squadron grounded him to stay.
He couldn’t leave his squadron behind. More than his magic, they were the source of his strength.
The reason he’d made it this far in the war. He couldn’t abandon them now.
But Pretty Face might be a prisoner at that facility. If Fieran went, he could rescue him and finally bring him home. Did Fieran’s duty lie with the one he’d lost or with the many he’d leave behind?
“The squadron will be all right.” Rothilion tipped his head. “I will look after them.”
“Due to the shielding wires invented by Capt. Detmuk-Inawenys, the squadrons will still have the benefit of your magic to protect them.” Uncle Julien spoke up, as if he understood the source of Fieran’s hesitation.
Fieran shook his head and gave Pip a fake glare. “Told you that you’d make me obsolete.”
“I might have thought twice about it if I’d realized it would free you to be sent off into danger in Mongavaria,” Pip muttered with a glance toward his uncles.
“But speaking about the Half-Breed Squadron…” Uncle Julien’s tone had Fieran turning his attention back to him.
Uncle Julien held up a folded piece of paper.
“Capt. Rothilion, you have a choice as well. If Fieran should take the mission to Mongavaria, you would be the new captain of the squadron. However, I’m working with the navy on a top-secret project that will coincide with the mission into Mongavaria.
We are looking to recruit six of the top elven pilots for this project, and, if you agree, I’d like you to lead those elves. ”
Rothilion glanced from Fieran to the paper in Uncle Julien’s hand. “And this project…will it assist with Laesornysh’s mission into Mongavaria?”
“Yes. It will help ensure the end of the war.” Uncle Julien continued to hold out the piece of paper. “I’m afraid you won’t be told more than that until you report to Sylmare to prepare for your mission. If you agree, you’ll leave in two days.”
Fieran’s throat closed. All of them had choices, choices that would split the Half-Breed Squadron apart. It would be what was best to win the war, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t mourn it.
Rothilion stepped forward and, with a deliberate motion, took the paper from Uncle Julien’s hand. “Then I accept.”
“Good.” Uncle Julien nodded, picked up a second folded paper, and held it out to Merrik. “Then, should Fieran accept the mission, you would be the captain of the Half-Breed Squadron.”
Merrik took a step back, his eyes widening. As if he’d never thought such a duty would fall to him.
And it never would, if Fieran stayed here.
That settled deep within his heart, making his decision for him with a sense of right certainty.
“Then you’d better take that paper, Merrik. Because I’m going with my dacha into Mongavaria.” Fieran couldn’t believe those words were coming out of his mouth.
But instead of twisting nerves, a peace filled him. This was what he was meant to do. He and Pip, together.
Pip’s fingers tightened on his, but she didn’t flinch away. If anything, she stood taller.
His hand trembling slightly, Merrik took the paper from Uncle Julien, opening it and staring at the words on the page as if he couldn’t believe it.
Adry hugged him around the waist, grinning as she murmured into his ear.
Pip leaned into Fieran’s shoulder. “Mak is going to hate this.”