Page 563 - Fourth Wing

skies.

But what they don’t see is the venin striding our way from north of the
gate, watching the crowd’s movement with a narrowed red gaze. The veins

on both sides of her eyes are more pronounced than the earlier rider’s, and

her long blue robe reminds me of the staff bearer who survived the clock-
tower blast.

“I’ve already told Fuil. She’ll protect Soleil,” Tairn says, angling toward

the threat.
“Get us away from the crowd.” Power already sizzles beneath my skin.

A child stumbles on the dirt road, and my heart lurches as her father

scoops her into his arms and continues to sprint.
Deigh passes, and I see him land out of the corner of my eye as I lift my

arms and let my power rip free, focusing on the venin.
Lightning cracks. A section of the city wall crumbles.

Fuck.

“Keep going. Deigh says they need more time!” Tairn urges.
I make the mistake of turning in the saddle, noting that both Liam and

Soleil are unseated, ushering the townspeople into the mine, while Deigh
and Fuil guard separate sides of the evacuation path. If anything happens—

if one of those wyvern circling the town decides to take notice—they’re

vulnerable. But so are the people they’re protecting.
A trio of gryphons flies in, all three dangling townspeople from their

talons, dropping them off at the entrance to the mine and looping back for

another run.
Energy rips through me as I aim a bolt for the venin, this one shattering

an outbuilding along the hillside to our right. Boards split and wood flies as

it collapses.
The venin’s attention whips upward, and my stomach twists when she

spots me. There’s pure malice in her red eyes as she reaches forward with
her left hand, then flips it, fisting air.