Page 553 - Fourth Wing

there’s something in that book that isn’t true.

“Yeah, let’s not borrow trouble.” Xaden shoots a look sideways at me,
then studies the sky.

“There are four venin and ten of us,” Garrick says, walking away from

the edge of the battlement.
“We have the weapons to kill them,” Liam says, turning his back on the

valley. “And Deigh told me seven gryphon fliers—”

“We’re here,” the older brunette from the lake says, striding down the
battlement from the southeast corner of the outpost. “I left the rest of the

drift outside once we noticed that your outpost seems to be…abandoned.”

She glances over the rampart at the clouds of smoke rising from the valley
beneath with a look of resignation, her shoulders dipping. “I’m not going to

ask you to fight with us.”
“You’re not?” Garrick’s eyebrows rise.

“No.” She gives him a sad smile. “Four of them is tantamount to a death

sentence. The rest of my drift are making peace with our gods.” She turns
toward Xaden. “I came to tell you to leave. You have no clue what they’re

capable of wielding. It only took two of them to bring down an entire city
last month. Two. Of. Them. We lost two drifts trying to stop them. If

there’re four down there…” She shakes her head. “They’re after something,

and they’re going to kill every single person in Resson to get it. Take your
riot and go home while you can.”

Fear squeezes my chest, but my heart aches at the thought of leaving

them to die. It goes against everything we stand for, even if they aren’t
Navarrian civilians.

“We have dragons,” Imogen says, her pitch rising. “Surely that has to

count for something. We’re not afraid to fight.”
“Are you afraid to die? Have any of you seen combat?” The brunette’s

gaze sweeps over us, and suddenly I feel…young as we reply with our
silence. “Thought not. Your dragons do count for something. They can fly