Page 321 - Fourth Wing

I glance left and right, watching the other riders begin to take notes.

Surreal. This is just…surreal. Even Rhiannon is writing intensely.
None of them knows what we do, that an entire village of Navarrians was

ransacked last night along the border and supplies looted. And yet, we’re

discussing a battle that happened before the convenience of indoor
plumbing was invented.

“Now, pay close attention,” Markham lectures. “Because you’ll be

turning in a detailed report in three days and drawing comparisons to battles
from the last twenty years.”

“Was that scroll marked classified?” Liam asks under his breath.

“No,” I respond just as quietly. “But maybe I missed it?” The battle map
doesn’t even show activity near that mountain range.

“Yeah.” He nods, scratching his quill against the parchment as he begins
to take notes. “That has to be it. You missed it.”

I blink, forcing my hand through the motions of writing about a battle

I’ve analyzed dozens of times with my father. Liam’s right. That’s the only
possible explanation. Our clearance isn’t high enough, or maybe they

haven’t finished gathering all the information needed to form an accurate
report.

Or it had to have been marked classified. I just missed it.