Dragon Airways by Brian Rathbone Read Free Book Online Page B

Instead, he aimed for a place atop the bluffs, hidden from town by a towering peak.
    "Maybe we should just head back to the western fleet and blame Casta for blowing our cover," Grunt suggested.
    Agger laughed. "She's his favorite."
    "He hates her."
    "Exactly," Agger said. "Now shut up and do what I tell you for a change. It'll make it easier on both of us."
    "You don't have to be mean about it," Grunt said.
    The man was a walking pile driver, and Agger hurt his feelings.
    The cliffs drew closer, and all conversation ceased. Neither of them wanted to die. Winds tossed the plane, causing it to pitch and roll. As soon as Agger countered one blasting gust, the wind shifted, growing cold and causing them to drop like a stone.
    Grunt started talking again, his words unfit for a pirate's ears. With his feet on the dash and holding the handle above his head, he screamed louder the closer the bluffs drew. Agger was tempted to knock him out just to shut him up, but he'd seen others attempt to do so and fail miserably. Sometimes it was best to learn from the mistakes of others and save yourself the scars. Besides, Grunt really couldn't land this plane in Agger's estimation.
    Gripping the controls tightly, Agger flew the stolen passenger plane sideways into the secluded valley, countering heavy crosswinds. When tires touched grass, the aircraft was yanked hard to the right and bounced along a rock-strewn field.
    "This was a bad idea," Grunt said as objects streaked past on either side.
    Agger did everything he could to slow the plane without flipping it over or onto a wingtip. After a third bounce, the landing gear caught in the turf and brought them to an abrupt halt.
    "I can't believe we're alive," Grunt said.
    "Thanks for the vote of confidence," Agger replied.
    "You're welcome. Now to see if this bird will still fly. That woman is just crazy enough to leave us here."
    Agger climbed down and inspected the airplane. Grass and soil clogged the front wheels, but the gear appeared otherwise undamaged. Grunt tried to pull a clump of grass away from the brakes and sucked in a breath when he burned his finger on the shining disks.
    There was no hiding the plane. They just had to hope no one would come looking or that Casta Mett kept her word and picked them up an hour after nightfall. Both seemed slim hopes at the moment.
    The town of Sparrowport was only a short walk away, which was part of what worried Agger. He'd rather have been forced to climb sheer rock faces than be so easily discovered out in the open. The people on this day, though, had plenty of other things to keep them occupied. Fighting in the street and stolen planes must have caused quite a stir.
    Agger led Grunt to a place on the side of the nearby peak where they could watch. Sparrowport swarmed with activity, as he'd expected, and he reconsidered his plan. How were they supposed to kidnap someone from a town on high alert? And in particular, how was he supposed to move anywhere with any stealth having the heavy-footed Grunt right behind him? Agger was fairly certain his shadow's boots were made of concrete.
    As darkness fell, the true scale of their challenge became evident. In addition to the streetlights, lanterns could be seen moving up and down the avenues. Even children patrolled the streets, ready to shout at the sight of anything out of place. Agger wondered if Destin Brightwood was among them. All he could do was operate under the assumption that the unpopular boy would remain home. His family's wealth had not been enough to overcome his unusual looks and mannerisms. Finding out such things was what Agger did best. If only he could identify magic or those able to sense it. Like the Pickette boy. He could not be certain, but he assumed that was who had taken the golden knife from right under their noses.
    "You really shouldn't have shot that chap, you know," he said to Grunt. "That's probably what got the kid up. He was more than likely standing there when our friend