“My men are happy to take the consignment, if it harms the ladies’ delicate sensibilities,” Hesovec said.
Zima’s eyes widened as she saw the planes slipping through her fingers. “That’s not your choice to make.”
Hesovec spread his hands. “We’ve been stationed at Intelgard longer.”
“Waiting for superior aircraft, which we have no chance of getting,” Zima snapped. Her face was flushed, and in the heat of the moment, her voice carried past Linné to the soldiers loitering at the end of the field. They edged together, closing ranks.
Tcerlin looked Hesovec up and down. Dislike for the interfering sycophant crossed his features. “Your aircraft will be here soon enough—unless you’d like to trade your place in line for the Strekozy.”
There was a moment of silence. Hesovec paled. “With respect, sir, the men have been training for much more complicated machines. I believe it would be wise not to let that training go to waste.”
“And you.” Tcerlin turned back to Zima. “Isaak isn’t here to grant your every whim, and he isn’t here to keep you in line. You have me to deal with. Do you want to fly the Strekozy, or do you want to send your girls home?”
The look Zima gave him could have stripped paint. She turned and walked to the edge of the field, beckoning to the girls. They flocked around her.
“This decision is yours, not mine,” she said in a trembling voice. “I won’t lie to you. The Strekozy were designed as farming planes. They’re slow, slower than some palanquins, and they don’t hold much in the way of bombs or firepower. They must fly low to the ground, which makes them more susceptible still. But they’re the only planes we can have.” She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes, as if she couldn’t bear to see their faces. “If you wish, you may get on the supply palanquin headed north at nine bells, and no one will blame you.”
The girls glanced at one another. Then Elena said, “There must be some advantages to it.”
The commander’s smile was brittle and brief. “Some,” she said. “But not enough.”
They were silent for a few moments more. Linné watched resignation fill Zima’s face and felt a pang of sympathy. She might have been a great leader had she ever gotten the chance.
And I might have stayed at the front, kept my friends, won my distinction, and shown my father. Army girls, it seemed, didn’t get real chances.
“I’m staying,” said Revna. She flushed as thirty-odd heads swiveled her way, but she crossed her arms and kept her gaze locked on Zima. Linné wouldn’t have figured Revna to be the first to speak up, but she saw a need in her eyes, the need to stay. The need to distinguish who she was now from who she’d been. Linné could understand that.
“I’m staying, too,” she said, ignoring the incredulous looks the other girls threw at her. Nothing waited for her in Mistelgard except for paperwork and the punishment of a lifetime when she finally went home.
Magdalena smiled. “Surely we can find some way to equip them.”
“Things are starting to get interesting,” Katya said.
“I want to fly. I don’t care what.”
One by one, the girls of the 146th Night Raiders Regiment spoke up. They spoke from their hearts. They spoke with their want shining plainly in their voices.
Maybe serving with them wouldn’t be so bad after all.
6
KEEP FAITH IN YOUR UNION
Thirteen countries formed the Union of the North, and girls had come from all of them to join the Night Raiders regiment. Revna came from Rydda, the Union’s solid core. Rydda had been hit first and hardest, and from the things Mama and Papa had whispered about politics, Revna wouldn’t have expected their sister countries to come to their defense so quickly. But when Revna entered the warehouse for her first flight lesson, she saw pilots who’d traveled from Kikuran in the east, Ibursk in the far north, the Parsean Peninsula at the edge of the Tsemora Sea.
She hadn’t worried much about training. She’d worried that she’d be judged on her legs, or that everyone would find out her father had been sent to prison. She’d worried about spies, about being sent home, about more bad news from Tammin. She’d worried about using the Weave in public. Yet as they waited for Tamara, everyone’s raw nerves clamored against one another and she felt the air humming.
“Hey,” whispered Katya, the dazzling pilot who had defended Revna the day before. She’d somehow managed to curl her hair, and it hung in perfect ringlets around her round face. Revna had already pegged her as one of those girls—the girls who took special care to sit down next to her, to make sure she had someone to talk to who didn’t care about her legs. Usually they were trying to make her feel normal, and usually they were nice enough. “Look.” She brushed her hands over her jacket collar. She’d lined it with soft gray rabbit fur, making a fashionable trim.
Revna ran her finger along the lining. “It’s lovely.” And not something she’d think of making or wearing as a factory girl. Katya must have money. “Where did it come from?”
Katya stuck one foot out and waggled her boot. “I took the lining out. I have warm feet anyway. I could make one for you,” she offered.
“I don’t have boots to borrow from,” Revna said. The toes at the ends of her prosthetics twitched.
Katya turned slightly pink. “I’m sure we could find something.”
This always seemed to happen with people who tried to ignore her disability. Revna was spared having to refuse her again when Tamara came in. They all stood up to greet her and she smiled at each of them, though she raised an eyebrow at Katya’s new collar.
“Welcome,” she said at last. “The eleven of you have been singled out and brought to Intelgard for a very special reason. Either I or my allies have noticed a powerful affinity in you for Weave magic.”
Revna winced. Tamara said it so openly. Like a preference for sugar beet rum over vodka. If Revna had wandered around Tammin speaking of the Weave in such easy terms, she’d have been shipped off to the far north like Papa.
“We have one of the war’s most challenging tasks: We need to beat the Elda at their own game. They’ve been flying longer than we have, and Weave magic’s been legal there for years. Since we’ve been given permission to develop our own Weave corps, we can work on catching up. Most of our planes, including the Strekozy, are modified Elda models. Known Weave practices will be effective when flying them. Once we have improved our strength and precision, we’ll study the machines themselves and pair off with navigators.”
Tamara began to pace. “Accomplished Weave users are adept at maneuvering themselves with the Weave. Elda pilots extend that concept of self to the planes they fly, and that is our goal. The most capable Weave magicians can even manipulate the movement of others, though it must be at a short distance and through great concentration.” She caught Revna’s eye. Revna felt her stomach flip. Even now, something in her wanted to retreat to the corner, to beg It wasn’t me until someone finally believed her. “We’ll work on finesse, but sometimes the only way to get yourself out of a situation is through strength and force of will.”