Page 567 - Fourth Wing

“I don’t exactly have a cross-bolt handy!”

“No, but you do have lightning, and a bolt of that will stop any dragon’s
heart.”

“Tell me you warned the others how Soleil and Fuil died.” Everyone

touching the ground is vulnerable.
“They all know what they risk.”

Gods, there are still kids down there, some screaming, others

heartbreakingly silent as their mothers drag their dead bodies from the
streets.

There are no words.

“We need to draw them away from the city,” I tell Xaden, turning back in
the saddle as far as the bands across my thighs will let me to get a better

vantage point of the airspace and the wyvern, some of which seemed to
have slowed in order to circle the remains of the clock tower.

“Whatever they want must be there,” Tairn says.

“Agreed on both counts. Do what you can to give the rest time to
evacuate,” Xaden responds. “We’re clearing the edge of town now.” He

pauses, and a ripple of worry pushes through our emotional barrier. “Try
not to die.”

“Working on it.”

A wyvern dives only to climb again with a human leg hanging from
between its teeth.

We circle back, then head south through the trading post, away from the

city’s center and whatever Bodhi and Garrick are doing. “They’re not
following,” Tairn grunts. “We’ll need to draw them out.”

“That venin didn’t seem to like when I wielded lightning.”

“You’re a threat.”
“So let’s get their attention and threaten.”

He growls in approval.
I open the floodgates of Tairn’s power, letting it roil and billow beneath