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In the predawn gray, Merrik buckled on his leg, gathered his things, and crossed the short space to the bed.

Adry slept peacefully. More healthy color filled her cheeks, and she no longer moaned whenever she shifted in her sleep. The healing magic had done its work while she’d slept and, while Merrik suspected his dacha would order her to continue to rest today to fully heal, she was well on the mend.

He gently brushed a few strands of her hair from her face before he bent down and lightly kissed her forehead.

She stirred, his name a faint murmur even if her eyes didn’t open.

“I need to go.” He didn’t want to, but he’d abandoned his squadron for long enough. Last night, she had needed him. But today, his squadron needed him more.

She gave a tiny nod before seeming to fall back into a deeper sleep. Likely when she fully woke, she wouldn’t even remember this conversation. But at least his dacha, who was awake and in the chair near the bed, could tell her that Merrik had taken the time to give her a farewell before leaving.

He clapped his dacha on the shoulder, exchanged nods, and headed out the door and down the stairs.

At the bottom, one of the guards stopped him and pointed him toward the bundle of his now freshly cleaned flight clothes.

Merrik took the time to change into them before he gathered his things once again and strode outside.

His aeroplane had been parked in a grassy lot at the end of the town’s street, its nose pointed in such a way that it would be easy for him to let the aeroplane roll forward and turn onto the road out of town to take off. Mak had repaired the holes in his wing the night before, the lacquer patches dry although still unpainted.

After he stowed his gear in the space in the fuselage behind the seat, he settled into the cockpit and flipped the switches to start the magically-powered engine, the gauges showing that Mak had replaced the power cells while he was at it. The familiar hum filled Merrik’s ears and vibrated through the aeroplane into his bones.

Within a few minutes, once the propeller had spun up, he sent the aeroplane hurtling down the road and into the sky, the machine transformed into a graceful warbird once more.

Once he’d landed at the Half-Breed Squadron’s current airfield, Merrik climbed out of his aeroplane, though he told the ground crew to position it at the end of the field rather than push it back to the line with the others. He’d be taking off in less than an hour anyway.

When he stepped into the farmhouse, he strode into a welcome of back slaps and waves as the pilots packed into the main floor to grab breakfast. The cook and mess steward assigned to them worked as quickly as they could in the kitchen to turn out eggs, bacon, and oatmeal for all of them.

Merrik took a plate of food when one was shoved into his hands, finding a spot along the wall in the dining room to eat while standing up since all of the chairs had been taken to the barn to hold long boards for makeshift shelving.

Between bites, Merrik glanced around and raised his voice to be heard over the hubbub. “What are our orders for today?”

“We are to keep hitting the bunkers and any of those machines we can find with all we’ve got.” Lije spoke with his bite of egg tucked into his cheek. He swallowed before adding, “The army is going to keep sending skirmishers forward, but they are holding off on another big assault until tomorrow.”

Merrik nodded. They’d want to give Adry a day to finish healing before they made another attempt at taking the heights. “Any word about Fieran?”

Tomorrow was also the day planned for whatever Prince Edmund and Uncle Farrendel intended to do to end the war. Last they’d heard, that plan had already partially gone awry when Pip and Fieran had become separated and Fieran chose to remain in Mongavaria with his dacha rather than return to the Alliance.

Stickyfingers shook his head. “Do you think they’ll do it? Will the war really end tomorrow?”

The other chatter in the room died away as everyone’s gazes swung to Merrik.

He shifted under the weight of so many eyes on him. A large part of him wanted to hide in the background, as he’d always done in moments like this. These had always been the moments when Fieran stepped forward.

But this time, Merrik had to do it. He drew in a deep breath, raised his head, and forced himself to look around the room, meeting the gazes of those looking back so trustingly at him. “Yes, they will. We have all seen Fieran, Adry, and General Laesornysh wield their magic. If anyone can march into Landri and force Mongavaria to its knees, it is Fieran and his dacha.”

The surety of that sank deep into his chest. This was what Fieran had been born to do. He was meant to be a Laesornysh warrior, fighting and ending wars with the power of his magic.

But this was also what Merrik had been meant to do. Hold their squadron together during these last, perilous days of the war.

No one did anything as exuberant as cheer. Not even the flyboys. Everyone was too weary, both physically and mentally, for that. But grins, arm punches, and back slaps swept around the room, with human flyboys even roping the elven pilots into sharing the gestures. The smiles held relief. Stances relaxed, almost dangerously so.

“But.” Merrik let his tone ring firm and hard, quieting the hubbub. “We cannot let our guard down. Make no mistake, these next few days are going to be some of the hardest of the war. It might be several days yet before the army before us surrenders, if they are even willing to do so. They might decide they would rather make a last stand instead of surrendering. We will have to give everything we have to ensure this truly is the end.”

A somber hush filled the room, replacing the jubilance of a moment before.

Merrik kept his tone firm as he took a step forward. “Guard each other’s backs. No one wants to fall in battle this close to the end of the war. Let us make sure that all of us in this squadron live to go home at the end of this. As for me, you know I want to live and who I want to live for. But I will give my life to save one of you or to end this war, if that is what it takes. I know all of you will go above and beyond the call of duty in the next few days, if that is what is asked of you. We are the Half-Breed Squadron.”

“Half-Breed Squadron!” The shout rang nearly as one, so loudly some of the elves winced or pressed ears to their shoulders to try to stifle the noise.