Chapter 15 #2
As Fieran began lowering her back to the catwalk, the airship gave a shudder, slowing enough that Pip swayed on the end of the rope with the change in speed.
Pip’s feet landed on the catwalk. “We’re slowing.”
“Yeah. We’d better get back to the pilot house.” Fieran took the jar of wax and other patching items from her. He glanced around before setting them down on the edge of the catwalk with a shrug. There was no reason to take the time to put stuff away now.
Pip wiggled out of the harness and dropped it to the catwalk, kicking it aside.
The two of them hurried back through the maze of catwalks and ladders and dropped through the hatch into the gondola.
Fieran glanced through the windows as they hurried down the corridor. Halfway to the pilot house, he halted so abruptly that Pip ran into his back. He pointed at the porthole. “Look.”
The dark shape of an airship was gliding into view, coming from ahead of them.
“We’d better hurry.” Pip gave him a light shove against his back.
Fieran broke into a jog. He took the time to duck into his room and grabbed his swords from where they lay on his bunk.
Swords would do little good against airships, but he felt better as the weight of the sheaths settled across his shoulders.
Still buckling the straps, he burst into the pilot house.
Dacha was at the wheel, his knuckles white, his swords strapped across his back as well. Uncle Edmund wasn’t in sight, but his muttering could be heard coming from the radio room just off the pilot house, along with a rhythmic beeping and tapping sound.
The wide windows provided a panoramic view of the clear blue sky around them and the three Mongavarian airships facing them. One remained directly ahead of them while the other two were slowly positioning themselves to either side. All three had metal boxes and wires dangling from the undersides.
“I can take the wheel.” Fieran skidded to a halt next to Dacha, gripping the wheel even before Dacha had fully let it go.
“Your uncle claims he has the code needed to safely pass them.” Dacha paced a few feet away to the levers set in the floor that controlled the airship’s ascent and descent. “The air balloons?”
“Patched as best we could, but we didn’t have time to find the compressed air canisters to refill them.
” Fieran flexed his fingers on the wheel, his heart pounding harder in his chest. While he trusted Uncle Edmund and his information, he wasn’t all that comfortable staring down the guns of three enemy airships.
No matter that they would think they were looking at one of their own.
If something went wrong, would Fieran and Dacha dare fight back? Could the two of them take out three machines before they were too drained of magic?
Pip halted at the station at the rear of the pilot house beside the engine controls, and she was currently checking all the dials. Her fingers trembled slightly as she adjusted one of the levers.
Fieran would have gone to her to reassure her and hold her, telling her it was all right. But he couldn’t leave the wheel. Right now, they both had to be army officers facing a possible battle rather than boyfriend and girlfriend.
A string of elven swear words rang from inside the radio room. Uncle Edmund raised his voice. “They’re suspicious. Apparently the codes were changed in the past few days. I’m trying to convince them that we’ve been traveling in radio silence since fleeing the Alliance bombing.”
Another flurry of taps and beeps burst from the radio room.
If Fieran had paid more attention in the class on the older telegraph system, perhaps he would have understood what was being sent back and forth.
Then again, this was all in code and likely in a slightly different system than the one Escarland had used.
Uncle Edmund muttered another string of elven curses as he ran from the radio room and disappeared out of sight toward some of the unused cabins. He raced into sight a moment later, tugging a Mongavarian uniform shirt on over his other clothes, the uniform trousers loose around his waist.
“Edmund.” Dacha’s tone held a warning as he shot a look at him.
“Sorry, sorry. I know, little ears and all that. No time.” Uncle Edmund dashed out the door onto the outer catwalk.
Fieran shared a look with Pip. Neither of them were exactly what one would call “little ears” anymore, and the fact that he recognized all those words showed exactly the type of education he’d gotten in the army.
No, he was far more concerned about whatever had Uncle Edmund dashing about and donning a Mongavarian uniform.
Uncle Edmund stood on the catwalk, taking down a set of the signal flags. He waved them in a pattern, similar to the orange signal flags that they’d originally used in the Flying Corps before installing radios.
The airship ahead of them slowly turned, presenting its broadside of machine guns toward them. The other two airships were now on either side of them, perfectly positioned to blast them with the full might of their guns as well.
“I don’t think they’re buying it.” Fieran gripped the wheel tighter. “Dacha, can we overwhelm those machines without getting knocked out?”
“Possibly.” Dacha braced himself against the front panel of levers and gauges, prepared for battle. “But I would not wish to put it to the test.”
“Perhaps if we kept our magic contained within this airship?” Fieran gestured toward the airship facing them. “Those machines need to get close to or touch the magic to latch on to it. At least, the one I faced before did.”
“We cannot assume they have not made improvements since then.” Dacha nudged one of the levers so that their airship began drifting slightly downward, subtly putting the gondola below the line of fire.
Uncle Edmund sprinted back inside, using the edge of the door to fling himself around the corner and into the radio room. “They aren’t buying it.”
“Will they fire on us?”
“Maybe. This seems to be a no-fly zone for anyone who isn’t authorized to be here.” Uncle Edmund sent off another blistering set of taps. “They’re under orders to fire on anyone who tries to enter, even their own ships.”
“Should we turn around?” Fieran found he was already, almost subconsciously, putting pressure on the wheel in preparation. “We can try getting past at night or at a different spot.”
“Not sure they’ll let us leave.” Uncle Edmund’s voice was tight, grim. “They’re—”
A boom rang out as the airship blocking their way fired one of their largest artillery pieces.
“Incoming!” Uncle Edmund shouted, even as he kept tapping on the radio. Perhaps he was sending a string of Mongavarian curses, still trying to pretend they were a Mongavarian airship wrongfully fired upon.
The shell clipped the top of the gondola and tore into the dirigible above their heads. Fieran ducked, his magic leaping to his fingertips even if he didn’t unleash it yet.
The airships on either side opened up with their machine guns, tearing into the dirigible above their heads.
“Edmund?” Dacha raised a hand, his magic lacing around his fingers. “Should I unleash my magic?”
“Not yet. The moment they see your magic, they’ll know we aren’t who I’ve been saying we are.” Uncle Edmund’s tapping had ramped up to a furious pace. “There’s a chance I can get them to call off their attack.”
The two airships swerved toward them, their guns blazing. The large artillery gun in the airship ahead of them boomed yet again.
One of the side windows shattered. Fieran ducked behind the wheel as Dacha crouched below the protection of the metal side.
Pip gave a short shriek, and Fieran swiveled on the balls of his feet to look toward her. “Pip?”
“I’m fine.” She crouched below the engine controls, but she was left with little protection, her back to the windows.
More windows shattered, glass bursting inward, as bullets pinged off the walls over their heads.
“I do not think they believe you.” Dacha raised his hand, his magic crackling around him. It coated the inside of the bridge, and more machine gun bullets incinerated against it.
An explosion shook the whole airship, bucking the deck beneath Fieran’s feet so violently that he was flung forward, the metal wheel digging into his ribs.
Pip gave another shriek as she clung to the engine controls. Still gripping the metal stand, she tilted her head upward. “I think that was a boiler. The readings from boiler two are off, and it’s showing elevated temperatures in the engine room.”
“The coal bunkers will catch fire.” Dacha slammed one of the levers, venting more air from the balloons. The deck tilted even more steeply beneath their feet, and Fieran had to brace himself more firmly against the wheel.
The three airships still pounded away at them, showing not a shred of mercy.
Uncle Edmund dashed out of the radio room, gripping various gauges and edges of control stations to keep himself from sliding on the slick, steeply tilted floor.
He halted next to Pip at the engine controls.
“Do you have enough engine power to give us some headway? Fieran will need some steering control to crash this safely.”
Crash. Fieran hadn’t let himself think the word. But hearing it sent his heart hammering in his ears, his gut twisting. His fingers would have trembled, if he hadn’t been gripping the wheel so tightly.
There was a whooshing sound, something between an explosion and a roaring wind. The airship hung for a moment before its descent turned into a dive.
Pip screamed as her feet fell out from under her.
“Pip!” Fieran tried to push away from the wheel, but he couldn’t move quickly with the force pressing him forward. Beside him, Dacha crouched with one foot on the deck and one on the front panel, which was rapidly becoming the floor.
Uncle Edmund grabbed Pip’s arm, his other hand clutching one of the levers on the engine control panel. With a grunt, he pulled her upward so that both of them were dangling semi-securely from the engine controls.
Wind blasted through the openings where the windows had once been, the ground rushing toward them far too fast.
Everything whirled and tilted. Wind roaring. Explosions shaking the airship’s frame. Nothing but ground outside the windows.
“Fieran!” Pip’s voice ripped his gaze upward.
He met her eyes, his hand reaching for her even though he couldn’t stretch far enough. “Your magic! We need a shield!”
Her magic flickered into a globe around them, shimmering and looking all too flimsy compared to the ground rising to meet them.
Dacha released his magic and pulled himself along the front console.
And then everything was imploding and crumpling and the last thing Fieran knew before the world went black was his dacha’s arms wrapping around him.