She clambered up the side of the huge vehicle, balancing on the tread as she peered at the machine mounted within.
The actual machine itself was about the size of a large aeroplane engine. Wires connected it to the engine powering the wheels. But she didn’t need the whole engine. Just the magical part of this machine.
The wiring and inner workings were still smoking, and this close the acrid scent of burnt-out metal filled her nose. The center machinery was melted and warped in on itself.
“What do you think?” Mak halted behind her.
“I think I can disconnect the machine so we can haul it out of here without taking all of this.” She patted the armored side. “But I’m concerned that the inner workings are so fried.”
“Let’s just grab this one, then see if we can snag a second one.” Mak climbed up beside her. “But we need to hurry.”
Right. With the shield of dwarven magic, her magic, and the dwarves themselves between her and danger, it was too easy to forget that they were rather exposed, a spearhead into the Mongavarian lines. If the Alliance army retreated, they’d find themselves cut off.
Aeroplanes circled overhead, the elves of Flight A preventing Mongavarian aeroplanes from dropping bombs onto her head.
Still mentally holding her shield, Pip swept her magic over the machine, melting through any mounting brackets or wires holding the machine inside the metal shielding box. It wasn’t pretty, and she could only hope she wasn’t leaving something important behind, buried deeper within the engine or frame of the tank.
Once it was free, Mak called over a few of the rear guard of dwarves, and together he and the others levered the heavy machine up and out.
Pip sliced off a section of the metal armor with her magic. Within a few minutes, she and Mak had the machine secured to the piece of metal, which she formed into a sled. Now that it had been removed from the rest of the vehicle, only one horse was needed to pull it.
As soon as the horse was hitched to the sled, Mak shouted to Uncle Thortrad in dwarvish, “We got it.”
“Fall back.” Uncle Thortrad also called in dwarvish, not looking over his shoulder.
Together, the dwarves took one step back, then another, their shield still steady around them as they kept up their steady rhythm even in retreat.
Within moments, the dwarven squad was back behind the Alliance line. Uncle Thortrad sent two of the dwarves off with the horse and machine before he turned to Pip. “Where to next?”
Pip scanned the sky and the lines again. She found the next circling Alliance aeroplane pointing the way toward another one of those machines. “There. Let’s go after that one.”
She adjusted her grip on her wrench, swallowed, and faced the horror of battle again.
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
Fieran sensed the tugging on his magic as the airship steamed closer, clouds of smoke pouring from the funnels set at the rear of the airship as its engines burned fuel. Wires laced over the whole airship; perhaps all of them ran back to that machine.
None of the Alliance airships were anywhere close enough to engage the enemy airship in battle. In past battles, Fieran had demanded the airships stay away. Now he would’ve cheered to see one moving to head off the enemy.
This time taking down the airship was up to them, and they couldn’t use magic to do it.
“Capt. Fleetwood, Lt. Hadley, keep holding off the enemy aeroplanes. I’m going to have to stop using my magic.” Fieran eyed the approaching airship. How long did he dare hold the magic and risk getting it caught?
“Understood.” Capt. Fleetwood began shouting orders to array his men in a better formation for fending off the enemy without the benefit of Fieran’s magic at their backs.
“Flight B.” Fieran turned his aeroplane toward the incoming airship. With a sigh, he released his magic, letting it fizzle outeven as he drew the magic within him deep into his chest. “We’re going to take out the airship.”
“Do you want Flight A to assist?” Lt. Rothilion called from where he and his pilots were keeping an eye on the destroyed machines.
“No. Stay with the machines and protect Pip.” Fieran wasn’t going to leave her without air cover. He’d all but sent her into the carnage of war. The least he could do was ensure she wasn’t bombed and strafed while she was at it. “Do you have the incursion team in sight yet?”
“I do.” Aylia’s voice piped up over the radio. “Looks like she’s with a squad of dwarves.”
Fieran breathed a laugh into the frigid air this high up. He flexed his fingers, his gloveless hands feeling the cold now that he wasn’t using his magic. “Good.”
“So what is the plan?” Merrik’s voice was steady with just a hint of an undertone to it. A quiet questioning of whether whatever Fieran was planning was wise.
