Page 84 - Fourth Wing

your own questions from here on out.” She levels a stare on me that has me

squirming in my seat.
Every head in the room turns in my direction. If anyone had an inkling of

doubt about who I am, it’s long gone now. Awesome.

“Gryphons aren’t as strong at that altitude, and neither is their ability to
channel,” I say. “It’s an illogical place for them to attack unless they knew

the wards would fail, especially since the village looks to be about what…

an hour’s flight from the nearest outpost?” I glance at the map to be sure
I’m not making a fool of myself. “That is Chakir right there, isn’t it?”

Scribe’s training for the win.

“It is.” A corner of Professor Devera’s mouth lifts into a smirk. “Keep
going with that line of thought.”

Wait a second. “Didn’t you say it took an hour for the squad of riders to
arrive?” My gaze narrows.

“I did.” She looks at me with expectation.

“Then they were already on their way,” I blurt, immediately recognizing
how silly that sounds. My cheeks heat as a mumble of laughter sounds

around me.
“Yeah, because that makes sense.” Jack turns around in his seat from the

front row and openly laughs at me. “General Melgren knows the outcome

of a battle before it happens, but even he doesn’t know when it will happen,
dumbass.”

I feel the chuckling of my classmates reverberate in my bones. I want to

crawl under this ridiculous desk and disappear.
“Fuck off, Barlowe,” Rhiannon snaps.

“I’m not the one who thinks precognition is a thing,” he retorts with a

sneer. “Gods help us if that one ever gets on the back of a dragon.” Another
round of laughter has my neck flaming, too.

“Why do you think that, Violet—” Professor Markham winces. “Cadet
Sorrengail?”