Page 81 - Fourth Wing
P. 81
My stomach sinks as a murmur rises from the cadets, especially the first-
years. Dragons aren’t the only animals capable of channeling powers to
their riders. Gryphons from Poromiel also share the ability, but dragons are
the only ones capable of powering the wards that make all other magic but
their own impossible within our borders. They’re the reason Navarre’s
borders are somewhat circular—their power radiates from the Vale and can
only extend so far, even with squads stationed at every outpost. Without
those wards, we’re fucked. It would be open season on Navarrian villages
when the raiding parties from Poromiel inevitably descend. Those greedy
assholes are never content with the resources they have. They always want
ours, too, and until they learn to be content with our trade agreements, we
have no chance of ending conscription in Navarre. No chance of
experiencing peace.
But if we’re not on high alert, then they must have gotten the wards
rewoven, or at least stabilized.
“Thirty-seven civilians were killed in the attack in the hour before a
squad from the Eastern Wing could arrive, but the riders and dragons
managed to repel the drift,” Professor Devera finishes, folding her arms
over her chest. “Based on that information, what questions would you ask?”
She holds up a finger. “I only want answers from first-years to start.”
My initial question would be why the hell the wards faltered, but it’s not
like they’re going to answer a question like that in a room full of cadets
with zero security clearance.
I study the map. The Esben Mountain Range is the highest along our
eastern border with Braevick, making it the least likely place for an attack,
especially since gryphons don’t tolerate altitude nearly as well as dragons,
probably due to the fact that they’re half-lion, half-eagle and can’t handle
the thinner air at higher altitudes.
There’s a reason we’ve been able to fend off every major assault on our
territory for the last six hundred years, and we’ve successfully defended our
