The sight finally eased the hero worship paralysis. She sucked in her first decent breath in the past few minutes. Perhaps she could actually join the conversation.
Fieran had been right to bring his dacha here. Their families had a lot in common, if they had the chance to sit down and talk.
She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, a distant boom broke the silence of the morning, a vibration traveling through the ground beneath their feet. A distant rumbling continued even after that initial boom, the vibration still shaking the ground.
That wasn’t an artillery gun or a bomb. She was familiar with the sounds of those.
“What was that?” Stickyfingers was scanning the skies, as were all the flyboys.
“I don’t know.” Fieran, too, was searching the skies. Merrik moved, as if by pure instinct, to take the place at Fieran’s back.
When Pip glanced upward, the gray skies were streaked with the first rays of dawn.
Prince Farrendel’s gaze had gone distant, and he turned toward the Wall rising high on the eastern horizon. “There is something…I sense…”
He didn’t finish whatever he was saying. Instead, he spun on a heel and dashed toward the army truck.
Fieran glanced around at them. “Pip, Mak, see to your parents. Everyone else, get to the hangar just in case. I’m going to see what’s going on.”
With that, he dashed after his dacha. The flyboys were only a few steps behind him, racing toward the lower tram platform.
“Perhaps we should stay.” Muka clenched her fists, sharing a glance with Dacha.
“No, the western rail terminal needs you.” Mak picked up one of their bags.
“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.” Pip grinned, the expression tense, and grabbed another bag to load onto the larger army truck. “Let’s get you on your way.”
Yet even as she said the words, her chest tightened. What new awful turn to this war would the Mongavarians unleash?
Fieran flunghimself into the front passenger seat of the small, open-topped truck, even as his dacha was putting it into gear.
Beside the truck, an army driver had his hand on the side panel. “Sir, I can drive. I—”
Dacha popped the clutch and sent the truck rolling forward, even as he worked the wheel so they did not hit the larger truck parked in front of them. The truck rumbled down the street, gaining momentum even as it flashed past where Pip stood with her parents.
Fieran braced himself against the dash and the door. “Where are we going?”
“The Wall.” Dacha’s tone was tight, his gaze focused on the front windscreen. He barely slowed the vehicle as they swerved onto the main road.
Fieran gripped the door, trying to brace himself as the truck careened around the turn. “What’s going on?”
“I do not know. But I sense…I do not know. But it is not good.” Dacha mashed the accelerator and worked the gear shift into a higher gear as the main road flattened out, heading toward the front lines.
People and other vehicles dodged or swerved out of their way.
Fieran gathered magic in his chest, though he didn’t release it yet. He couldn’t sense anything amiss. He couldn’t even hear if that rumble continued over the roar of the truck’s engine. But if Dacha was driving like this, then something terrible must be happening.
Within minutes, they were driving over the dusty, hardpacked roads between the infantry fortifications, the men in their entrenchments staring as they flashed past.
Ahead, the Chibo River rippled, reflecting the rising sun and the crackling magic of the Wall bisecting its waters.
At this time of summer, the Chibo River was already running low. Yet it seemed even lower than it had been the last time Fieran had flown over it a few days ago.
Dacha didn’t slow until they were rumbling onto one of the half bridges extending out into the Chibo. He slammed on the brakes, sending the truck into a screeching, skidding halt only a few yards from the Wall. No sooner had he shut off the engine than he was hopping from the truck and dashing toward the Wall.
Fieran scrambled out of the truck after him, his boots landing hard on the stone surface of the bridge. He jogged to the edge of the bridge and peered over the low side.
The river water seemed to have retreated from the banks, leaving yards of mud, flopping fish, and stranded turtles on either side. Only the center of the river still had water, and even that seemed to be draining away.
