Page 32 of Stalk the Sky
“Of course they are.” Pip dared to reach out and pat the hull in rhythm with the dwarf’s pounding. She hesitated, then added, “Do you know if there are any crews of dwarves working for the Mongavarians?”
“Not that I know of.” Yamrarlig shrugged, still not breaking his rhythm. “The dwarven kingdoms might not have any closer alliance with the Alliance Kingdoms than a few trade treaties, but we have no such trade with Mongavaria. We all know how Mongavaria treats those they deem inferior. Perhaps a few crews will be taken in, but it will not be many. We dwarves might not be willing to get involved in fighting the actual war, but we will send our iron and work crews to build the weapons so that the Alliance Kingdoms can fight your war.”
That was a relief, at least. Mongavaria already had the benefit of a large coastline and many seaports. At least the Alliance would have the advantage of better, dwarven-made ships.
Would it be enough, once the Alliance navies and the Mongavarian navy came to blows?
Pip shook herself and gestured toward the ship. “Care for a little help for a while?”
Yamrarlig grinned and pointed toward a nearby tool cart with several extra hammers. “Always room for another hand on a crew.”
“Did you have a good time with the dwarves today?”
Pip glanced up at Fieran’s question, craning her neck since they were walking side-by-side through the tunnels of the Dar Goranth cliffs. “I did. There aren’t any dwarves from Mount Detmuk here, but there’s a crew from a mountain not far from there. It was good to spend some time with dwarves again. And neat to see how they are building the dreadnoughts and other warships with their magic.”
She’d enjoyed helping Yamrarlig and his crew. Even though she couldn’t work her magic in conjunction with a team the way the other dwarves did, she wrapped her magic through theirs, using her magical sense to guide her. The dwarves had been rather fascinated by her dwarven iron magic that was wielded so directly in the manner of the elves.
“Really? I know dwarves have iron magic, but how are they using it in building warships?” Behind Pip and Fieran, Lije trotted a few steps closer to join their conversation.
Pip half-turned, walking at an awkward sideways hop-skip to talk to Lije and the others while also including Fieran. “Full dwarves use rhythm to craft their magic. It’s hard to describe, but it’s a union of skills, tools, and magic. While the dwarves are riveting and constructing the battleships, they are also infusing the very iron with their magic. According to Yamrarlig, the crew leader of the dwarves from Clan Grustraen, the hulls will be nearly impenetrable.”
“A good thing for the navy boys.” Stickyfingers gestured around them, as if to indicate the whole of Dar Goranth base.
“And navy girls. Don’t forget about them.” Pretty Face smoothed the still thin beginning of his new mustache. “You’re always ragging on me about giving women their proper due courtesy.”
Lije rolled his eyes and slugged Pretty Face’s shoulder. “I’d say you’re improving, but I know you’re only thinking about the women in the navy because you’re still plotting ways to flirt with them without getting punched.”
“Getting punched by my cousin wasn’t enough?” Fieran walked backward for a few steps.
Pretty Face gave a small cough. “Um, well…”
“Word got around that Pretty Face is to be avoided or punched.” Stickyfingers sounded almost too happy about that.
“It has really cramped my style.” Pretty Face heaved a sigh as he waved at the passageway ahead of them. “This is the first time in my life I have gone to the cinema without at least one girl on my arm. It’s a dismal blot on my record.”
“It’s good for you.” Stickyfingers rolled his eyes before he turned back to Pip. “I’d like to meet the dwarves, if you go again when we’re not on patrol.”
“If you don’t mind us tagging along,” Lije added, his gap-toothed smile on display.
“I wouldn’t mind.” Though it boggled her mind to think of introducing her flyboys to the dwarves.
While the dwarves here didn’t seem all that opposed to elves or humans—not like some dwarves she’d met back in the dwarven mountains—she was glad she’d gone by herself this first time. She’d been able to establish herself as a dwarf before showing up with a gaggle of humans and half-humans trailing her.
“We can make it our group excursion, the next time we are all off duty.” Fieran glanced at the others before his gaze rested on her.
Was she imagining the warm and lingering look in his eyes? Something in her chest jolted at the thought of introducing Fieran to the dwarves.
Though it wasn’t the dwarves in the harbor she was thinking of. For some reason, her mind jumped to an image of Fieran in the dwarven mountains, feasting at her grandparents’ table with her parents and brother there.
Pip had to look away as she worked to keep her voice casual. “I’d like that.”
What was that? She’d thought she’d set aside her attraction to Fieran, but lately it seemed to be getting worse again.
When Fieran continued speaking, he didn’t seem at all affected by whatever had come over Pip. “Do you think any of the dwarves will come tonight? I think everyone on the base is invited.”
Right. Just friends. Casual conversation. Pip plastered a smile on her face. “They might. Dwarves are always up for a good time.”
“Are there any dwarven women in the crews?” Pretty Face slicked his hand over his hair.