unless . . .â I say. âMaybe the pilot got out of the plane before it crashed. Maybe he had an emergency parachute, or maybe his proclivity was Wind or Air or Darkness or something, and he just floated down into the trees.â
âOh, thatâs just fantastic,â says Clementine, glancing around with a nervous twitch. âAnother enemy to worry about.â
âWhy was there a plane around, anyway?â says Teddy, frowning. âI mean, if I had a plane Iâd go for joy-flights too, but I reckon it was a bit dark to see much.â
âThere were heaps of planes over Rourton last night,â says Clementine impatiently. âOr have you already forgotten we got bombed ?â
Teddy scowls at her. âIâm not stupid, richie! But the bombing finished back when we were still in the sewers. Why the hell would a single plane hang around and check out the view?â
âTo report on the damage?â
âThere are hundreds of guards in Rourton â any one of them could report that stuff. I still donât see why this plane needed to hang around after the bombings.â
There is silence as we all mull this over. If this lone plane had its own, secret mission, and I shot it down before it could complete it . . .Â
Someone nudges me. I turn to see Clementineâs quiet twin tilting her head as though to ask permission to pass.
âMay I have a look?â she says, so shyly that I barely make out her words.
âGo ahead,â I say, and make space for her to squeeze between the trees.
She bends down to examine the plane, a frown upon her face. For a second I think she doesnât believe me â that sheâs about to search the cabin for the pilotâs body. But instead she peers beneath a broken wing.
âSix bombs,â she says.
âWhat?â
She straightens up and looks at Clementine. âThere are still six alchemy bombs, ready to launch. Thatâs the maximum these biplanes can carry, isnât it?â
We all nod. Even in years when the bombs donât fall, weâre regularly treated to displays of biplanes soaring overhead. Theyâre a constant threat to ensure we behave, so we make damn sure to learn as much about them as possible. Everyone knows these biplanes carry six bombs each: no more.
âSo,â I say, âthis pilot was part of the bombing crew. He had a full load of alchemy bombs. But he didnât drop them on the city, and he waited around afterwards for . . . what?â
Radnor gazes at the smoking metal. âMustâve had a special mission. Maybe he was going to bomb the survivors, to take us out when we thought it was safe again.â
Silence. I feel a little sick. In the aftermath of the bombing, so many people were out on the streets. If this plane was waiting to launch a second strike . . .Â
âYou might have saved a lot of lives, Danika,â says Teddy. âHey, we should throw a plane-smashing party! Can you believe it, what youâve just done? Youâve taken out one of the kingâs own biplanes.â He grins. âAnyone got a bottle of wine?â
The impact of his words hits me hard in the throat. âOh no.â
âWhatâs wrong? Donât you see, this is awesome!â Teddy raises his fist in a pump of triumph. âThis must be the best blow that anyoneâs struck against the palace in decades.â
I shake my head, trying to hide the fear thatâs just taken seed in my gut. âAnd donât you think the palace has noticed?â
Teddyâs grin fades and he drops his fist. âOh.â
âWe mightâve struck a blow against the palace,â I say, âbut weâve also blown ourselves to the top of the palaceâs kill list.â
âEvery hunter in the land is going to be gunning for us,â says Radnor tightly, glancing between the wreckage and my face.
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley