Pip swallowed, her throat rough. “No. I would’ve just noted problems but not fixed them. But I could have grounded any aeroplane that had a problem too serious to send back up.”
She’d never know if she’d sent a pilot into the air with a faulty aeroplane. That guilt tore through her chest, and she might have curled in on herself if Fieran hadn’t been holding her with one hand on her shoulder, the other now cradling her face.
“That aeroplane wouldn’t have been mine.” Fieran’s thumb traced over her cheek. “My aeroplane was still on the airfield, and it wasn’t like the ground crews had been distracted. Besides, even if you had inspected my aeroplane, you wouldn’t have caught a crack in the propeller unless it was visible to the eye. You would’ve had to call over Mak or one of the elven mechanics for that, and that would’ve taken even longer. Time we didn’t have. You did nothing wrong, Pip. Nothing.”
“Then why does it feel like I did?” The words were a rough whisper past the squeezing in her chest and throat.
Fieran gathered her into his arms, sliding her gently on the bench so that she was tucked against his side.
She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face against his shoulder, clinging to the comfort he was offering.
“We lost friends in the squadron. Our friend lost his leg. It’s natural we’ll feel guilty.” Fieran spoke into her hair as he held her tight. “But it’s a lie. My mama told me last night to take responsibility for what was actually in my control and let go of the rest. That goes for you too. And you have far less to regret than I do.”
Pip squeezed her eyes shut, two more hot tears leaking from the corners of her eyes to soak into the front of Fieran’s shirt.
Perhaps she wasn’t at fault. She’d done nothing wrong.
Yet that almost made it worse. It meant that even when she did everything right, she couldn’t protect her flyboys. Her friends could still die. Fieran could still crash. And there was nothing she could do to prevent it because war was terribly cruel like that. No matter how hard they fought, how much magic they wielded, how brave they were in the face of the enemy, war would take and take and take, glutted on blood and death, never satisfied.
Yet war wasn’t an impersonal monster just gobbling up those caught in its unwitting control. War was controlled by those who had all the power and yet had to pay none of the cost.
What else could they do but keep fighting? If the Alliance lost, the Mongavarian Empire would expand into their borders. And that would bring nothing but pain to the people living in the Alliance kingdoms.
Pip tightened her grip around Fieran. “If I did nothing wrong, then you didn’t either.”
“Not according to the army, maybe.” Fieran’s sigh stirred her hair. “But I still selfishly dragged Merrik into the Flying Corps without once stopping to ask him what he wanted, and it cost him his long hair and his leg. I was still rash that day, throwing myself and Merrik into that battle without even stopping to consider if there was a better way to go about it. I was the one to suggest attacking the gun emplacements, which provoked the Mongavarians to attack.”
“The generals rubber-stamped that attack. They knew the chances of retaliation.” Pip dug her fingers into the back of his shirt. “That’s not on you.”
“It still feels like it is.” Fieran rested his cheek on the top of her head. “And I know there wasn’t time for me to wait for Makor an elven mechanic to inspect my propeller. It wasn’t like I would’ve known it needed checking, and there’s a good chance I might have been disciplined or worse for delaying while Capt. Kentworth and his men were dying. But I still wonder…still think that if only…”
“We don’t know your propeller was damaged in your attack on the gun emplacements.” Pip shifted, turning her head so that she wasn’t speaking into his shoulder. “There’s a good chance your propeller wasn’t cracked before you went up the second time. If that were the case, even having Mak inspect the propeller wouldn’t have made a difference. You still would’ve crashed. It was all just a tragic accident of war.”
“Yes, but if Mak had inspected it, then we’d know.” Fieran’s voice roughened, his arms tightening around her. “I’d know if there was something I could’ve done. If I could’ve prevented all of this.”
Then they’d both have a lot more peace.
Pip breathed in the scent of Fieran’s shirt before she exhaled slowly. She snuggled into the warm strength of his arms around her.
As she did, the painful tension inside her finally eased for the first time since she’d watched Fieran’s aeroplane fall from the sky. Maybe…just maybe…things would be all right.
After another long moment, Fieran shifted, making another of those groans of pain in the back of his throat.
Pip straightened out of his arms. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” Fieran’s gaze dropped away from hers, as he braced himself on the bench. His face went even more pale beneath the smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks.
“You don’t look fine.” Pip reached for him, but he scooted back along the bench until he was at the very edge. “Should I call Louise? Get you to the hospital?”
“No, no. I’m fine. Just need to lie down.” Fieran spoke in a rushed, staccato tone as he half-fell, half-lowered himself from the bench.
She wasn’t sure what to do or how to help, and she ended up just sitting there, her hands awkwardly hovering in the space between them. This was why she was a mechanic instead of a nurse.
With a sigh, he stretched out on the ground, his legs underneath the plants to one side of them and his head on the pavers by Pip’s feet where the arbor and bench cast a patch of shade. He tucked a hand beneath his head as a cushion. Only then did he peer up at her. “I’m fine. Really. Just still healing. Sometimes my bones start aching if I sit for too long, and I just have to lie down.”
It looked rather uncomfortable, lying there half on the pavers, half on the dirt. Pip glanced around, but she couldn’t find a cushion or pillow or anything soft tucked behind the bench or within reach. Probably wise, given this was an exposed rooftop. But still, she couldn’t just leave Fieran like that, trying to use his own arm as a pillow.
“Here.” Pip knelt on the pavers next to him. “Lift your head.”
