Taking Flight by Kelly Scriven

Chapter 1

Sira hurtled through the sky, heart pounding wildly. Two years at the Academy boiled down to this one test. Pass and she would enter her final year as a full-fledged apprentice. Fail and… Well, she refused to entertain the thought of returning to her uncle. He’d ship her off to the mage guild, a swift “I told you so” in hand. No more Academy, no more flying.

This was what she was meant for.

The deep thrum of the airship’s engines pulsed in a low drone. Sira’s toes tapped in her freshly shined leather boots, and her hands clenched tightly on the wheel. She risked a glance behind her. The captain, a tall and imposing man with black hair in tiny curls that clung to the angles of his head, stared back. He seemed to peer straight through her, taking in her thundering pulse and the sweat that beaded at the back of her neck. She shifted her attention back to the wide windows at the front of the bridge, the fields below empty as they waited for the spring planting.

Behind him, the test administrators had been watching her, too. She tried to shake the feeling that all eyes were on her. If-no, when-she passed the exam, she would fly with new crews all the time. She had to get used to this.

The gentle tug of the wheel was a comfort, centering her as doubts swirled in her mind. Why wasn't the captain starting the test? Had she already done something wrong? She went over her every word, checked the placement of her hands on the wheel, and confirmed the placement of the levers to her right. Everything was in order.

What was the captain waiting for?

Gently, she brushed her fingers along the edge of the small column that stood to the left of the wheel, careful not to touch any of the crystals embedded on the top of it. The compass in its center read south-southeast, a perfect course for home.

The ship sailed on, responding readily to each little nudge she gave to keep it on track.

"Excellent focus, Miss Brightlance," the captain said finally, his voice soft. "Most students are clamoring by now." He chuckled, and Sira realized the test had begun after all. Skill one: steady as she goes. She sighed and adjusted her grip as the captain ordered, "Ten degrees to port."

Sira eased back one of the levers, guiding the wheel with her other hand, the ship turning smoothly at her direction. She watched the compass needle carefully, then released the lever and straightened out the wheel. Easy enough.

"Up five yards." This time, Sira touched a crystal on the panel; it glowed dimly, and a new hum filled the air from further below deck. She held the wheel steady and pulled another lever. The horizon dipped. She counted under her breath, then set the lever back upright and touched the glowing crystal, its light fading out. The maneuver complete, she felt the tension in her muscles melt away.

She let herself sink into the warmth of the helm before her. It was like returning home.

"Well done," the captain said. "Bring her around starboard."

Sira smiled at the praise. The ship turned, then lurched under her feet. She was thrown to the side.

A blast sounded somewhere behind them, rocking the ship a second time. Cursing, she tightened her grip and heaved herself back to the helm.

Her body moved automatically, even as her mind floundered. She'd been present for airship battles twice before, much younger than she was now, and knew instinct got a ship through the first battery. With a sharp yank on another lever, the ship shuddered, slowed, and began to turn the opposite direction. In front of her, a cannonball flew past, careening through the space the bridge had occupied moments before.

"Pirates!" someone announced through one of the metal cones to her right. Biting her lip, she tuned out the flurry of movement around her. She had to focus. She'd trained for these situations in endless simulations that didn't come close to the intensity in the air around her now.

Her fingers pressed two crystals: altitude and speed. With the tug of a lever, the ship began a quick descent. Another blast of cannon fire sounded. A distinct whistle soared overhead, and Sira braced for an impact that didn't come.

"Retyon, evasive maneuvers!" the captain shouted above the din as he regained his footing. He spat a flurry of commands into the comms cones.

"Prepare for battle. Crew to your stations-secure your lines! Fire at will! How many?"

A hand tapped Sira's shoulder. She was already moving out of the way when the older pilot's voice told her, "You're relieved." Her heart sputtered as she gladly gave up control of the ship and retreated to the back of the bridge. Professor Hanes gave her an appraising look as she pressed herself against the bulkhead beside him, his reassuring smile obviously forced.

Around them, the bridge was controlled chaos. Reports came through the cones, bridge crew rattled off updates, and the captain's voice towered over them all. The walls trembled as their cannons fired, the arid tang of blasting powder lingering in the air.

Sira's attention was glued to the pilot. Easily as old as her uncle, he had fringes of gray in his hair but a strong back and an easy posture at the helm.

His judgment was swift and well trusted by the captain, who ignored him completely. She hoped to reach that level of comfort and trust one day. This was years of piloting at work, absolute mastery of his craft. Watch, she told herself. Watch and learn.

A charge filled the air, buzzing deep in her core just before a clap of thunder sounded from the decks above. It made her jump, her eyes going wide as she ripped her gaze away from the helm. The hair on her arms stood on end as she recognized the new weight settling over her.

"Magic," Professor Hanes murmured to her. "Ours. Mr. Hawk is a talented mage, one of the Tripower's best. We are fortunate he is aboard; you could ask for no better defense."

With a huff, Sira's focus darted to the windows. Mr. Hawk, the third and youngest of the test admin-istrators, was the Tripower representative, so it was no surprise he was a mage. Rather than reassuring her, though, the professor's words had the opposite effect, setting her nerves on edge. She wanted to snap back at him. Magic was the last thing she wanted defending them, as finicky and unreliable as it was even in the best hands. But she held her tongue. Few shared her opinion.

There was another crack of magic, sharp and loud, followed by a residual hiss. She glanced upward warily. In any other circumstance, she would rush to the deck, tie her own line, and join the crew.

Here, she was expected to sit still and wait, a student caught by an unfortunate interruption. Sinking to the floor, she sat with her knees drawn to her chest. She trusted the crew, but it rankled her to be so useless. She went back to watching the pilot and tried to ignore the hum of magic.

"Direct hit!" a voice rang out. "The enemy is turning around!"

"Don't let up now, men!" the captain said firmly. "Give them a reason to stay away!"

The crew let up a cheer. The ship rocked with another round of cannon fire. Sira felt the next spell go off and clenched her fists, fingernails biting into her palms.

"Sir, report from the starboard hold. There's minor damage, nothing critical. No supplies lost," came the report from below. "She held the first hit off easily."

"Thank you, Peter." A smile graced the captain's features.

"All others, report in." Others chimed in one by one, assuring the captain there were no further damages and that everything-and everyone —was accounted for. The professor grasped Sira's shoulder, gesturing for her to rise. A flicker of magic lingered, but no new spells were cast.

She allowed herself to relax. The battle was over. It only lasted a few minutes, but the atmosphere had changed so completely Sira felt she was on a new ship. She brushed off her pants and let her hands hang at her sides. The captain finally stepped away from the communication station, going to clap the pilot on the back.

"Nice flying," the captain said with a grin. Sira couldn't see the pilot's face, but she was sure he returned the smile as he shrugged the captain's hand off.

"Just doin' my job," he said roughly, earning a laugh from the captain.

"Take us home, Retyon." Stepping past the helm, the captain approached Sira and Professor Hanes. His smile dimmed, but his eyes still danced with the adrenaline of battle and the joy of victory. He addressed the professor.

"I'm afraid we cannot continue the test," he told them. "With damage to the ship and pirates in the area, I won't put my guests at risk by staying in the air." He shot a look up toward the deck, and Professor Hanes nodded in understanding of some unspoken meaning. Sira glanced between the two, trying to understand the significance, but the captain spoke before she could puzzle it out. "I hope the incursion won't spoil the Academy's opinion of my ship and her crew."

"Of course not, Captain," the professor assured him. "Your crew responded admirably. I'm sure the Academy will request your services again."

"Good! I like seeing the young pups show their spots." The captain turned to Sira. "Speaking of showing spots, you certainly did that today, Miss Brightlance. Your quick reaction saved my ship some damage, and for that I thank you."

Sira smiled, at a loss for words, and shook the captain's hand when he offered it.

"When you graduate, send word. We could use someone with your skill. Gods preserve me, Retyon will retire one day, and I may have to go with him if I can't find someone half as good to keep us in the air!"

The captain and pilot laughed. Cautiously, Sira joined in.

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