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As the aeroplane rolled forward, Merrik awkwardly reached forward and flipped the switch to turn on the protective shield. Did the power cell have enough magic left? And would the stored power be strong enough to shield them from the sustained fire about to be directed down at them?

“Adry, are you able to add your magic to the shield?” Merrik pushed the aeroplane to full power, sending it bumping and jouncing over the shell divots carved into the dirt of the road. “We are going to need it.”

Adry shifted, and a flicker of her magic appeared around her fingers. She reached out to the nearest protecting wire, and her magic traveled along it, reinforcing the crackling blue shield around his aeroplane.

Yet her magic wasn’t as strong as he’d hoped, still weak after nearly being drained by that machine.

The aeroplane gathered speed, the propeller whirling, the fuselage shaking with the vibration of the wheels over the ground and the force of the rotary engine.

The muzzles of the machine guns glinted as they swung in their direction moments before they opened fire. As they reached her magic, the bullets disappeared in flashing starbursts that nearly blocked his sight of the road before them.

Then something slammed into one of his wings, tearing through the canvas and cracking one of the fluted wing braces. More holes appeared in the other wing.

“Adry…” Merrik tightened his grip around her as a round—nearly spent after passing through the shielding magic—tinked off the whirling propeller. The shielding magic could withstand a lot, but these were larger guns with a far more sustained rate of fire than anything mounted on a Mongavarian aeroplane.

Just behind one of the bunkers, something else glinted. The shape of a larger artillery gun—one that had been trained to lob shells high over the lines into the Alliance front ranks—swiveled and lowered.

Merrik gritted his teeth, gripped the control stick, and willed the aeroplane to rise into the air. Adry didn’t add any more weight than the four bombs he’d recently deployed did. His aeroplane shouldn’t perform any more sluggishly now than it had during takeoff that morning.

The gun’s barrel swung farther down, but the aeroplane still stuck stubbornly to the ground. When they hit a rut with a jounce, Adry whimpered and curled tighter against him, her head tucked against his shoulder and neck. Yet more of her magic blazed along the protective wire.

“We are almost off the ground.” Merrik didn’t look at the machine guns pounding bullets into the shield. He didn’t look at the artillery gun training on them. He focused on the bend in the road ahead and willed the air to catch the wings.

The shapes of two aeroplanes flashed overhead. One broke to the left, the other to the right, each of them lining up on the bunkers currently targeting Merrik.

Merrik grinned, even as he felt the aeroplane grow light around him and Adry. He pulled back on the stick, the nose of his warbird pointing toward the sky, as to either side, Lije and Stickyfingers dropped their bombs on the bunkers.

Sticky gave a whoop over the radio. Lije whistled. “That’s a takeoff Fieran would have pulled.”

With the way desperation filled Merrik’s chest, he was fully prepared to be even more reckless if it meant getting Adry to a hospital in time.

Still gripping the control stick with one hand, Merrik managed to press the talk button for the radio. “Thanks for the assist.”

“Of course!” Sticky’s aeroplane fell in just behind Merrik’s.

“How is Adry?” Lije’s aeroplane appeared beside Merrik’s, overhauling him quickly with his lighter biplane.

“She needs a hospital.” Merrik glanced at her pale face, her hair straggling from her braid to fall across it. Blood soaked between her fingers and pooled onto her lap before dripping onto him. “I will need an escort back to base. I have to hold this aeroplane straight and steady.”

She wasn’t secured into the cockpit the way he was, nor would he want to jostle her with complicated maneuvers. If any Mongavarian aeroplanes peeled away from the dogfight, he’d be an easy target.

“On it.” Lije remained beside Merrik’s aeroplane while Sticky stayed just behind.

Merrik pointed his aeroplane’s nose to the west, keeping the engine maxed. The needle crept to the red line, showing he was dangerously overloading the circuitry.

But that didn’t matter. Not when he could feel hot, wet blood soaking through his flight clothes. He would burn the guts out of this aeroplane if that was what it took to save her.

“Stay with me.” Merrik murmured into her hair, tightening his grip around her. He wasn’t sure if she could hear him over the whine of the engine, the whipping of the wind, the whir of the propellers. If she made any attempt at speaking to him, he couldn’t hear with his ears covered by his flight cap.

She was far too listless. Too lifeless in his arms. She never would have been this still during her first flight if she’d been more aware.

The newly-grown forest passed by beneath them, giving way to the rolling fields once again.

Ahead, the buildings of a Mongavarian town appeared on the horizon. Thanks to the briefing, he knew the hospital had been set up in the manor house of a prosperous farmer. The building had been picked both for its size and for its proximity to the main road, making it convenient for the ambulances coming from the front.

That same road—wide and straight—provided a convenient landing strip for him. He lined up on the road, ignoring the oncoming vehicles and the bustle of horses and people. He was setting this aeroplane down, and they had better move out of his way.

As his aeroplane dropped lower, people looked up. Horses snorted and danced before their riders or drivers pulled them to the sides of the road. Vehicles swerved into the ditches as the shadows of his wings loomed over them.