Skybuilders (Sorcery and Science Book 4) by Ella Summers Read Free Book Online Page A

vehicles. “What should we do about them?”
    “Leave them. It will take them a long time to get out of there, and by the time they do, we’ll already be gone.”
    Silas pressed his arms against his chest and glared at the four buried men, allowing his eyes to go white. The men desisted in their efforts to swim through the debris.
    “We’re going to pay a visit to your boss to see about buying a plane,” Silas told them.
    In response, one of the men tried to shoot him with his buried gun. An echoing clink told Silas that the bullet had bounced off a metal rod. And the squeal from one of the other men told him it had found a different target.
    “If this is the way they greet all their boss’s customers, then it’s no wonder he doesn’t have enough money to repair that rusted sign at the entrance,” Leonidas said.
    Silas pointed to the shack with a chalkboard of scribbled prices posted outside. “You can share that business advice with Master Dominick when we meet him.”
    Leonidas frowned at the buried men, likely anticipating a similarly warm welcome. “Peachy.”

    * * *
    526AX August 20, Auster

    As it turned out, Master Dominick was about as meek as Davin Storm—no, wait, that wasn’t right. The prince of Elitia was just an idiot.
    But getting back to the junkyard, the owner’s meekness certainly explained the hired muscle. He was overcompensating.
    Silas looked around the office. Framed photographs of vintage vehicles were hung up on the wood walls in an evenly spaced line, one above each metal grey filing cabinet. A selection of folders, ordered by color, sat in one basket on the desk, a neat stack of typed pages in the other. A bundle of pencils stood upright in a jar, each one sharpened to precisely the same height. The man was an obsessive compulsive hermit.
    He was also a stuttering ball of nervous energy. Within half a sentence, Leonidas had convinced him to show them to the hangar hiding the airplane. It was an enormous white dome built over the water, a private enclosed parking lot of watercraft. Several boats were tied to the dock, innocuous pieces of wood, metal, and plastic surrounding the old water plane.
    The fact that Master Dominick was in possession of illegal goods told Silas that he got off on the thought of subverting authority. His hiding of the plane—and the irregular twitch of his eye as he looked at it—meant he would turn and run should that authority ever come knocking. Clearly, he wasn’t cut out for dealing on the black market.
    Leonidas had honed in on that same weakness, and was now exploiting it to attempt to buy the plane off of him.
    “Master Dominick, this Seabird-4 is hardly worth the trouble it’s putting you through,” Leonidas purred, turning his eyes on the muddy-splattered white and blue seaplane. There were more than a few dents in its body, as though every pilot who had ever flown it had crashed into one thing or another.
    The junkyard proprietor gave Leonidas a suspicious squint through tiny round spectacles. “Trouble you boys caused.”
    Leonidas tilted his head toward Silas. “Big Bob here didn’t mean any harm. When those men started circling around us, he panicked and ran straight into that car wall. He’s a strong fellow, but he’s rather lacking in the brains department. It’s a problematic combination.”
    Master Dominick grunted in agreement. “That’s for sure.”
    Silas felt his eyes starting to phase white, burning his face. It took every drop of willpower he had to keep them blue. He and Leonidas would be having a little chat when they were through with the junkyard.
    “We, however, would be willing to put an end to all your troubles and take this wretched plane off your hands,” Leonidas offered.
    Master Dominick frowned, his nose cringed in suspicion. “If it’s so ‘wretched’, then why do you want it so much?”
    “Want it?” Leonidas favored him with an indulgent smile. “No, you misunderstand. Our employer simply requires a