Tamara sat with one hand holding a telephone receiver and the other scribbling notes. She nodded as Revna entered and gestured to the chair. When she was finished, she set the receiver down and folded her hands. She regarded Revna without smiling, but there was a gentleness in her eyes. “We’re halfway through the week.”
So? Revna reined in her temper. “I’m feeling a lot better.” She wasn’t, but she hadn’t had any more outbursts, and surely that meant something.
Tamara leaned across the desk and squeezed her hand. “I want to explain something. Goreva Reaching was my hometown.” Revna winced in sympathy. “A lucky shot killed my navigator during the retreat. When we tallied our losses, there was only one thing on my mind: vengeance. I wanted to pick up my rifle and follow the boys to war, to see the look of suffering on the faces of the Elda, to burn their homes as they’d burned mine. I even wished I’d died there as a hero instead of living without everything I’d known. I know how it is.” Except Tamara had tried to defend her home, and Revna had helped obliterate hers. “The anger can feel like your whole life. But it can’t be your whole life. Do you understand?”
“I guess?” Why was Tamara telling her all this?
Tamara put her face in her hands. “I need to reinstate you early,” she said through her fingers.
The fires bloomed hot in Revna’s mind. Vengeance. “I’m ready.”
“I can’t have you breaking down on a mission, Revna. If you can’t do it, there might be some other way…”
“To do what?” Revna said.
Tamara lowered her hands. Her red-rimmed eyes seemed to look everywhere but at Revna. For a moment she seemed so young. Like a university student. Her voice trembled. “The doctor has declared you physically fit to fly. If I don’t approve you, the Information Unit has the right to investigate your mental ability.”
Revna bit back the urge to laugh. It always came down to the Skarov. She could almost feel them, tightening the strings of an invisible noose around her. Maybe she should let them win. What more could the war take away from her?
But the Union demanded, and so she would give. If her family was truly gone, then this base and the people on it were all she had left. And perhaps she could give the Elda an extra dose of vengeance for herself. “I can fight. I won’t break.”
They locked eyes. Tamara nodded slowly. “If you say you’re ready, I believe you. And we could use you tonight. As long as you can fly with Linné.”
“Did she speak to you again?” Revna tried to keep the sneer out of her voice.
She evidently hadn’t succeeded. Tamara pursed her lips. “Your navigator is valuable, and your plane is valuable. And you’re valuable, whether you believe it right now or not. Do you swear that you can keep the three of you safe? On your honor, on your reaching?”
Tamara hadn’t denied talking to Linné, and that was probably as close to an admission as Revna was going to get. “On all of it, I swear.” She made fists of her hands, squeezing until the rage she felt went out of her words and into her palms. She would hold it together. If only to show Linné what a wrongheaded, self-centered harpy she was. If only to make the Skarov wait a little longer.
Tamara sighed. “Don’t make me regret this, Miss Roshena.”
16
FIRE AND GLORY
When Revna trudged into Tamara’s office at nine bells, the muttering spread. She didn’t look at anyone, not even when Katya leaned around Nadya to squeeze her shoulder.
“Tonight we have another special assignment,” Tamara said. “I know that many of you want to strike back at the Elda, especially after what happened in Tammin. This might be our big chance. Fighting on the steppe has diminished and we’ve been requested to scout along the southern front. Ground scouts for the Forty-Sixth and Seventy-Seventh Night Armies have reported rumors of a new weapon being prepared near the front, possibly an aircraft even larger than a Dragon.”
The room broke out in incredulous murmurs. “Impossible,” Katya whispered.
“They’re calling it a Serpent. It will be under cover, but not too far from the front. Spies have indicated that it lies somewhere between Korplin and Tavgard. We’ve located three possible targets, and we’re sending three teams to each. One team will assist the Forty-Sixth and Seventy-Seventh on the southeastern front. If your team finds a potential target, your orders are to do everything in your power to destroy it.” Tamara’s mouth sagged. “No price is too high.”
Revna knew what that meant. Not their planes, and not their lives.
“Once you’ve released your bombs, return to the base and report what you’ve found. Speed is essential here. Questions?” Tamara met each girl’s eye in turn. Katya tucked a curl behind her ear and smiled bravely. Asya straightened her uniform. Elena looked slightly green, but Nadya puffed out her chest, ready enough for both of them. Revna willed all her strength, all her readiness into her posture. Tamara couldn’t change her mind now. “Your assignments are here. Best of luck.”
The girls surged forward. When the crowd had dispersed, Revna scanned the list for her name. She knew what she would find, but she couldn’t help the desperate hope that hammered at her. Maybe Tamara had listened to them. Maybe one of the other pilots had taken pity.
ROSHENA - ZOLONOV - CHUIKOVA had been written under the last header, KORPLIN REACHING AND NEARBY ENVIRONS.
Magdalena gave her a half hug. “We’re back on the roster.”
“Yes.” She should have felt triumphant. But all she could think was that she’d spend ten excruciating hours with someone she hated, and who hated her. It might have been easier to take if Tamara had put them back in combat. But instead of revenge, she got reconnaissance.
“Are you all right?” Magdalena asked.
Revna pressed a sarcastic reply between her teeth and held it there. “Fine,” she said. “I’m fine.” And she would be.
She walked to the field with Magdalena. It would be her first time in the cockpit since Tammin. You’re cursed. She pushed back against the thought. What did she have to be cursed about now? Her whole family was probably dead.
Katya and Elena stood at the side of the field, deep in discussion. Revna and Magdalena veered toward them. As they came up, Katya reached out to adjust Revna’s collar. “I’m point. We thought you should be second.”
“I’ve always been last in the lineup,” Revna said. She had a sneaking suspicion why Katya wanted to change it now.
Katya and Elena looked at each other, then pretended they hadn’t. “We…” Katya worked her mouth, obviously searching for a lie.
Elena resorted to the truth. “We wanted to make sure you’re all right,” she said. “Keep you on course, protect you from a sneak attack. Any nasty surprises that might come up.”
They meant well. She knew they did. But her voice was flat and cold as she replied. “I know how to deal with nasty surprises. I don’t need to be second in the lineup. I need to do my job.”
Katya’s hand went from her collar to her shoulder. “Revna, we know how you—”
Revna knocked her hand away. “No, you don’t.”
Katya and Elena glanced at each other. Katya bit her lip. “I guess we’ll stick to the usual.” She showed them a smile that was clearly forced. “Good luck, everyone.”
“You don’t usually get mad at people,” Magdalena said as they walked away. “Other than Linné.”
“Maybe I’m tired of being patronized.” Of being “looked after.” Of being told she was fragile, whether her friends said it out loud or not.
“I don’t think they were trying to patronize you,” Magdalena said.
“Don’t you start,” Revna muttered.
“I’m not,” said Magdalena, looping an arm around her again. “I’m cheering for you.”
Linné watched Revna wearily as they approached, a frown on her angry face, as if Revna was the burden she had to bear and not the other way around.
For a moment Revna thought she’d throw up if she had to get in the c
ockpit with her. But refusing to fly would either prove Revna a traitor or make her unfit for duty. Revna lifted herself off the ground before she got within speaking distance of Linné. She soared over her navigator’s head and landed in the cockpit with a thump so jarring she’d be feeling it in her feet for the rest of the night.
Linné stared at her a moment, mouth ajar. Then she hopped up into the navigator’s chair. “You really shouldn’t use the Weave for stunts like that. You’ll use up all your energy.”
“Thanks for your concern.” Revna parroted the angry sarcasm that Linné always seemed to have handy and was rewarded with an awkward silence. The air in the Strekoza tightened around her anger.
She secured her helmet and goggles as Magdalena prepared the plane. Linné said nothing, and that was more than fine by Revna. She’d rather spend the night in silence.
“Katya and Elena are cleared to go before you. Outer bay is equipped with incendiaries, inner bay with smoke and gas.” Magdalena stood on her toes to squeeze Revna’s hand, like always. “Come back safe.”
Revna squeezed, too. “We will.” Then she stuck her hands into the pilot’s gloves. “Fire up.”
They took off at the edge of dusk, with eight planes before them. The Strekoza multiplied her anger and fed off Linné’s discomfort. More than once it drifted, and she felt Linné’s sharp unease every time she made a hard or slightly clumsy course correction. She could almost hear Linné assessing her in her head.
The wind whistled low through the propeller, driving a gentle snow through the air. Despite that, it wasn’t a bad night for reconnaissance. Clouds obscured the moon, but the snow was light, and it stopped before they reached the mountains. The Karavel range rose stark and bare, and the line of planes angled toward it.
“Look, I’m not sorry I grounded you,” Linné said at last.
“Of course you’re not,” Revna replied. She meant to sound resigned, but an old bitterness crept in. A surge of resentment flooded the cockpit.
Linné’s spark faltered, and Revna felt her anger pushing back. “Stop it,” Linné said. “We have to be at our sharpest if we want to win. We can’t be distracted or demoralized. It’s what the Elda want.”
She knew that, and she wanted to scream that she knew that loud enough for Linné’s eardrums to bleed. She knew the war was more important. She knew the war called for sacrifice. But for her, there was another truth. She couldn’t forget it and she couldn’t justify it, no matter how hard she tried. The Strekoza flashed hot. “Everyone I know might be dead.” Because of me.
“Which is why I didn’t want you flying,” Linné said. “If you can’t concentrate, you might endanger the entire unit.”
“You don’t get to tell me how to do my job.” Something inside her shook loose, pushed by rage and the fatigue that always, always something was wrong, or not good enough, or not for her. “Stop parading about like you’re such a big thing. You’re not better than me because you have real legs and you act like a boy.”
“I—I don’t think I’m better than you,” Linné sputtered.
“Oh, please.” Revna rolled her eyes. “Strutting around, handing out orders when Tamara’s not looking—”
“She told me to help,” Linné interrupted.
“Not to mention begging for a new team every five minutes. I’m human. I’m not a problem to be avoided.”
There was a short, unpleasant silence. Then Linné said, “I wanted us to be taken seriously.”
“Maybe you should have considered taking us seriously.” Revna pulled them sharply away from a peak. Linné had no reply to that. “And don’t you ever tell me what I can and cannot do.”
“Prepare to adjust southeast,” Linné said, and that was the end of the conversation.
They emerged from the Karavels onto the taiga. The Strekozy began to peel away, toward Adovic Reaching and the surrounding land. Soon only Katya’s and Elena’s planes flew in front of them. The snowy ground was dotted with larch, spruce, and the occasional elm. “Are you sure we’re where we ought to be?”
“Yes,” said Linné, in a voice colder than the frost on the cockpit’s windscreen. “Bear southeast and stick close to the mountains.”
“I can’t see the Ava River.”
“That’s because it’s frozen and snowed over.” The Strekoza turned hot again. “Would you like to navigate?”
Revna bit back her reply. The Strekoza’s nerves pulsed against her. She had to keep the plane from working into a frenzy, even if it was for no other reason than to prove she could.
They almost missed the base, a tiny cluster of buildings that lay dark and silent like any other hamlet on a night of war. Revna imagined families behind the blackout curtains, extinguishing the last candle before bed. Maybe they were making a mistake. Maybe this wasn’t the outpost at all.
Or maybe it wasn’t a mistake, and the Union wanted to destroy the area anyway. And if they did, Revna would obey without hesitating.
She hated knowing that about herself.
“Look,” Linné said. “Corner of the large farmhouse.”
Thin tracks led around the side of the farmhouse and to the field behind. The snow there had been trampled by enormous paws. As they drew closer, Revna began to pick out massive shapes, covered by tarps and canvas. War machines. Relief washed over her. The Strekoza felt almost comfortable for the first time on the flight.
“It seems abandoned,” she said.
“Then their Serpent’s not here. But I’m sure you remember what to do.”
Revna pressed her teeth together so hard her jaw clicked. Up ahead, Katya winged around, making a full loop until she was beside Revna and Linné. Could no one trust her on this mission? She waved her wings. Katya turned her nose down in the Strekoza equivalent of a shrug, then sped up to take the lead as they neared the center of the village.
Revna plucked the Weave like a violin, taking them down for a reconnaissance pass. “Cut power,” she said, and the noise dropped away. Linné’s breath huffed in her ear. Her pulse thrummed.
They drifted closer. No searchlights—a good omen. Revna’s heart spasmed as she spotted the antiaircraft, but it seemed abandoned. They flew over, silent and dark, following Katya and Elena.
A long shape curved over the ground, a shadow on black at the edge of the base. It had to be half again as long as a Dragon, a sinuous fuselage with a stylized, serpentine head. Her heart stuttered and the Strekoza wobbled in astonishment. That was it. The Serpent.
“That’s our target,” Revna said as they flew over. Ahead, Katya reengaged her engine and came about. “But why is it sitting there?”
“Maybe they weren’t expecting us,” Linné said as she wound her spark back into the engine. It kicked to life with a whine.
“They have two decoy locations and you don’t think they expected us?”
“Maybe they got cocky. Maybe they thought one of the other decoys was drawing all the fire.”
“You’ve always got the answer, haven’t you?” Revna murmured.
She half hoped Linné would miss it in the whistle of the wind. But Linné sighed. “Don’t start this again. We’re in the middle of an assignment.”
“Well, you don’t have to one-up me every time I say something.”
“You don’t have to doubt me every time I—what’s that?”
Revna opened her mouth to retort. Then she heard it, too, a faint thrumming. Like bees.
The air in front of them bloomed with fire. For a terrible moment she saw Katya’s little plane illuminated at the center of the blaze, like the firebird she’d so meticulously stitched around one sleeve.
Linné let out a yell, feral and angry and afraid all at once. The air filled with burning debris, the smell of charred paper and burnt flesh. The wings of the firebird fell away, leaving dark shapes in a disintegrating fuselage. A blast of heat washed over the cockpit. And with that, it was over. The night turned black, and a few pieces of twisted metal and burning canvas fell to the ground.
Lines streaked through Revna’s vision.
The Strekoza spun upward like a top. Revna wrenched them out of their spiral.
“What was that?” Linné shouted. “What’s happening?”
“I don’t know,” Revna said. “I don’t know.” Her entire body trembled. She did know what had happened. Katya was dead. Beautiful, brave Katya, who thought rules were for other people and wanted to look out for Revna. Katya, gone.
“They’re activating antiaircraft. Avoid the antiaircraft!” Linné’s spark surged.
“I know what to do,” Revna yelled, blinking through tears and the bright afterimages of the fire. Of Katya’s last moments. The tears spilled hot, pooling in the rim of her goggles and smudging her cheeks.
“Look out!” Linné screamed.
Revna had enough time to think, I’ve never heard her voice go that high before. Then the air in front of them exploded.
She grabbed the Weave and pulled the Strekoza up, letting fear steer them. Beneath them, the wings broke off the burning shell of Elena’s plane. Her fuselage tumbled toward the ground.
Linné shouted again. “Watch out!”
Revna couldn’t watch out for anything. The next burst of flame missed them by less than a meter. Linné screamed some wordless curse as heat seared their faces. Her power flooded into the plane, kicking the engine into high gear. Even so, every movement of the Strekoza seemed painfully slow, hopelessly inadequate.
The Strekoza flew into a low cloud bank. The cover gave Revna a moment of relief. She grabbed for the Weave and pulled.
She could do this. She could stabilize them. She could bring them home, as she’d promised Tamara. Find the antiaircraft, she thought. She had to focus on one thing or she’d lose out to her fear and kill them both. Find the antiaircraft.
A soft sound from above them. The flare of someone’s spark on the Weave.
A fuselage flashed overhead, metal jaws opening to release a gout of flame.
Revna pulled on the Weave with all her might. “Skyhorse!” she screamed. The Strekoza made a tight roll to starboard. The sky lit up where they’d been.
We Rule the Night Page 23