“We have to wake up the witches,” I told Nero. “And get them working on finding and disabling those bombs before any more of them go off. And we’d better move fast. We’re already losing altitude.”
“That wasn’t an explosion,” he replied. “We hit something.”
We ran for the bridge, where we found the pilot dead against the wall. Nero sat down at the controls, trying to coax the ship away from the building we’d hit. I ran into the party room. There, the sleeping witches were slowly blinking back into consciousness.
“We’re with the Legion of Angels,” I said. “A group of saboteurs has hidden bombs throughout the ship. Are any of you a Steam Witch?”
Ten people stepped forward. I’d hoped for more, but I’d have to make do with what I had. I waved at the woman in front, the one wearing a dress that looked like lingerie. Even in that outfit, she had an air of competence about her. “Come with me. I need the rest of you to search the ship for bombs and disarm them.”
Then I turned and walked back to the bridge, the lingerie engineer following close on my heels. Nero didn’t look up from the controls when we entered the room.
“We’re still dropping,” he said.
The engineer hurried over to a display on the wall. “We’re leaking gas. One of the tanks was damaged.”
“Then fix it,” I said.
“It’s not that easy.”
“Let me make it easy for you. If we can’t get this ship back up, we’re going to crash and die. So I need you to fix that tank no matter what it takes,” I said, shoving a tool box into her arms.
Tension melted off the witch’s shoulders, her stance relaxing. “Of course,” she said with perfect obedience, then turned around and walked out of the room.
“How did you do that?” Nero asked as I sat down beside him.
“I have a scary smile. I was channeling you.” My head was pounding with the beginnings of one monster-sized headache.
“Your eyes are glowing.”
“Are they? Weird.”
He gave me a strange look.
“Forget my eyes,” I said, looking out of the front window. “Worry about that!”
We were headed straight for a wall of skyscrapers, and with the airship sinking by the minute, we couldn’t get over them.
“I see it. I’m turning the ship to go around it,” he replied with perfect calmness.
“The ship doesn’t feel like it’s turning,” I said, my voice anything but calm.
“It turns slowly.”
Any normal person would have closed their eyes tightly and waited for this to all be over, but I’d given up the luxury of normalcy the day I’d traded in my old life to join the Legion. I had to be brave and strong and smart, even if I didn’t feel like any of those things right now. Right now, staring at the skyscraper growing bigger and bigger in the window, I feared it was the last thing I’d ever see. Maybe it was that fear that compelled me to do what I did next—or maybe it was just an acknowledgement of how short life was. Whatever my reasons were, I took Nero’s hand and squeezed it. The ship was still turning, but it wouldn’t be enough. I just knew it wouldn’t be. I drew in a deep breath…
As I exhaled, the airship lifted, and we slipped over the top of the buildings, missing them by mere inches. The engineer had come through! Nero’s hand slid out from mine, and his fingers began flashing across the controls with inhuman speed.
“I’m taking us out of the city,” he said. “There’s less to hit out—”
A ragged thump pierced his words as the airship dropped, grazing the top of a building. A moment later, we rose again. That was the good news. The bad news came when I turned to look at Nero—and found him passed out on the controls.
22
Battle of Wills
What could make an angel lose consciousness? I didn’t know the answer, but I had a feeling it wasn’t just one thing, but rather the combination of a series of events over the past hour that had chipped away at his magic and body. He wasn’t looking good. His dark shirt had hidden the blood before, but it stained the beige leather seat. When I moved in for a closer look at him, I found tears in the smooth fabric—and deep lacerations and burns across his back.
I stood, squatting down into my knees. Even in sleep, Nero’s face tightened with pain when I lifted him into my arms. I tried not to shake him as I moved him into a side cabin beside the bridge that looked like the captain’s office. After laying him onto the sofa, I ran back into the party room.
“I need someone who knows how to pilot this ship,” I announced, surprised by the calm command in my voice.
“I can do it,” a man said, stepping forward. He didn’t look much older than sixteen, but I wasn’t in any position to be picky right now. I waved for him to follow me to the bridge.
Once there, I said, “Keep us out of the city. And make sure the ship doesn’t hit anything.”
Then I pulled open every cabinet in the room until I found a first aid kit. I was making a lot of noise, but my young pilot kept his eyes firmly on his job. I ran into the captain’s office, carrying the kit.
I sat on the edge of the sofa. Nero was beginning to stir, but it was obviously an action born from sheer willpower alone. A quick examination revealed that he wasn’t healing at all. In fact, he was getting worse. Blood was everywhere, and his previously hot skin was cool to the touch. I used a pair of scissors from the kit to cut the ruined shirt and vest from his torso. Like on his back, deep cuts crisscrossed his chest, splitting down his abdomen. I shook a bottle of healing potion, then popped the lid.