Page 85 - Fourth Wing

“Because there’s no logical way they get there within an hour of the

attack unless they were already on their way,” I argue, shooting a glare at
Jack. Fuck him and his laughter. I might be weaker than he is, but I’m a hell

of a lot smarter. “It would take at least half that long to light the beacons in

the range and call for help, and no full squad is sitting around just waiting
to be needed. More than half those riders would have been asleep, which

means they were already on their way.”

“And why would they already be on their way?” Professor Devera prods,
and the light in her eyes tells me I’m right, giving me the confidence to take

my train of thought a step further.

“Because they somehow knew the wards were breaking.” I lift my chin,
simultaneously hoping I’m right and praying to Dunne—the goddess of war

—that I’m wrong.
“That’s the most—” Jack starts.

“She’s right,” Professor Devera interrupts, and a hush falls over the room.

“One of the dragons in the wing sensed the faltering ward, and the wing
flew. Had they not, the casualties would have been far higher and the

destruction of the village much worse.”
A little bubble of confidence rises in my chest, which is promptly popped

by Jack’s glare, telling me he hasn’t forgotten his promise to kill me.

“Second- and third-years, take over,” Professor Devera orders. “Let’s see
if you can be a little more respectful to your fellow cadets.” She arches a

brow at Jack as questions begin to fire off from the riders behind us.

How many riders were deployed to the site?
What killed the lone fatality?

How long did it take to clear the village of the gryphons?

Were any left alive for questioning?
I write down every question and answer, my mind organizing the facts

into what kind of report I would have filed if I’d been in the Scribe
Quadrant, which information was important enough to include, and what