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Merrik had to clear his throat before he could shout back, “You know I will.”

“Yes, but she will need you more than ever, now that she will be fighting alone.” Fieran’s shout obscured his tone as much as the goggles and flight cap blocked his expression, except for the line of his mouth.

Merrik didn’t want to think about Adry charging into battle all alone, without her dacha to protect her.

So instead he kept his tone as light as he could while yelling. “Not entirely alone. She will have Rhohen.”

“Don’t remind me.” Fieran shook his head, his mouth lopsided. The teasing about Rhohen had gotten to him, as Merrik had known it would.

After a quick glance to ensure that his aeroplane was still flying relatively straight and not in danger of running into any of the others, Merrik met Fieran’s gaze as best he could while twisted around in his seat and wearing flight goggles. “I’ll take care of her.”

Fieran gave Merrik’s shoulder a shake. “And take care of the squadron. Be the legendary leader I know you can be.”

“Legendary. That has always been more your thing than mine.” Merrik couldn’t picture it. And when he tried, his heart pounded harder, his mouth drying. “I will settle for unassumingly competent.”

There was no way he could be the leader of the Half-Breed Squadron that Fieran was. All he hoped for at this point was that he managed to be competent enough not to get anyone in the squadron killed.

“You’re greater than you think you are.” Fieran dropped his hand. “I think you’ll make a few legends for yourself whether you want to or not.”

Typical Fieran. He had an unwavering sense of the grandiose, even when it came to his friends. It was the reason the Half-Breed Squadron had become the top squadron in the Alliance Flying Corps. But there was no way Merrik would live up to those visions on his own.

“That is not as comforting as you think it is.” Merrik shot a glance ahead of his aeroplane. The huge behemoths of Mongavarian airships drifted in the sky, providing a guarding cordon, while more airships hovered by their docks or were tied to the ground.

This was it. In moments, Fieran would leap from this aeroplane into the dangers of the mission that awaited him. Merrik would fly back to the mansion to fight the rest of the war as the captain of their squadron. Likely, he and Fieran wouldn’t see each other again until after the war ended, if things went to plan.

The last time they had parted like this had been right after they’d both crashed. Back then, Fieran had offered a hand in friendship, and Merrik had refused to take it.

This time, Merrik was the one to stretch a hand across his body and over his shoulder. “Stay safe. Do not do anything too reckless. I am counting on Pip to get both of you back more or less in one piece.”

Without hesitation, Fieran grasped Merrik’s hand and gave it a firm shake, even as his face was lit by the lights of the approaching Mongavarian airship base.

Then Fieran released his hand, and Merrik turned away, facing the nose of his aeroplane. “Squadron, get into attack formation.”

The Half-Breed Squadron swept from their broad triangle, which was better for protecting each other while high in the sky, to two columns to strike the enemy airships and their base.

Cheerful chatter of the squadron filled the radio, and Merrik relaxed at the familiar sounds of the squadron going into the battle. He piloted his two-seater into the lead position on one column while Aylia, in control of the two-seater with Uncle Farrendel in the rear seat, led the second column.

When they were only heartbeats away from diving out of the darkness into the fray, a crackle filled the air, a lightning taste filling Merrik’s mouth, a moment before Fieran’s magic burst around Merrik’s aeroplane. When Merrik glanced over his shoulder, he took in the way Fieran had stretched his magic to cover their whole column. Across the way, Uncle Farrendel, too, had coated Aylia’s aeroplane and that attack formation in his magic.

With the Half-Breed Squadron now blazing across the sky like twin lightning bolts, the Mongavarian airships leapt to life. The machine guns on the airships swung in their direction. The large guns on the ground hurried to elevate to target them. The guns belched and spat, but the bullets were nothing but sparks as they were incinerated by Uncle Farrendel’s and Fieran’s magic.

Hopefully the information Fieran’s Uncle Edmund had provided was correct—and this was Fieran’s spy prince uncle so it likely was—and there weren’t any of those magic-stealing machines on board these airships. Such a thing would make this mission that much harder.

“Half-Breed, let us attack with everything we have.” Merrik shot another glance over his shoulder, taking in the sight of Fieran wreathed in his magic. “One last time with Laesornysh on board.”

“For Laesornysh!” The answering shouts burst through the radio, loud with the squadron’s enthusiasm.

A click sounded in Merrik’s ear before Fieran shouted into the radio, “For the Half-Breed Squadron!”

“For the Half-Breed Squadron!” the squadron echoed.

And that was why Merrik could never replace Fieran. No one else could so effortlessly rally the squadron the way Fieran could.

Turning the aeroplane, Merrik dove toward the first airship in line, letting the biplane plunge toward the machine guns with complete trust in Fieran and his magic.

Fieran’s magic lashed forward and engulfed the airship. The dirigible vanished, the frame highlighted in blue, then orange as the gunpowder stored within exploded.

Uncle Farrendel’s magic blasted through a second airship, and the two wrecks fell from the sky, all fiery debris and groaning metal.