Page 394 - Fourth Wing

here,” I hiss, forcing open the next door, the one that belongs to one of my

mother’s undersecretaries.
Liam and Ridoc haul the guard in, and I put my fingers to his neck.

“Good strong pulse. He just knocked him out. Open his mouth.” I snag the

vial hidden in the pocket of my leathers, uncork it, and then let the tonic
flow into the guard’s mouth. “He’ll sleep the rest of the night.”

Liam’s wide eyes meet mine. “You’re kind of terrifying.”

“Thank you.” I grin, and we get out of there, running as fast as we can.
Fifteen minutes later, our chests are still heaving as we skid into the

Battle Brief room, just under the clock.

We’re the last to arrive, and the tick of Dain’s jaw from where he sits in
the top row with the other leadership tells me we’re going to get an earful

about it.
I drag my gaze away, and we find our seats as presentations begin in

order of squad, giving us enough time to recover from our sprinting session

before we have to take the stage.
A squad in First Wing stole Kaori’s handwritten manual on the personal

habits and flaws of all active dragons. Impressive.
A squad in Second Wing elicits an appreciative murmur when they reveal

the uniform of one of the Infantry professors, fully intact with something

riders never bear—a name tag. That would grant any enemy access to our
outposts, given the rank on the shoulder.

Third Wing’s best offering is a stunned, wide-eyed scribe, stolen straight

from his bed, and given the way his mouth isn’t moving… Yep, someone’s
signet power takes away speech. The poor thing is going to be traumatized

when they finally let him go.

When it’s our turn to take the stage, Sawyer and Liam, the two tallest in
our squad, hold the top corners of our map so it’s visible to all as it unrolls.

I stand back next to Imogen and search the leadership for a certain pair of
onyx eyes. There he is.