Page 26 of Fourth Wing

“Good job,” I whisper.

“Itisa little high for a planned attack,” Devera says. “Why don’t you tell me why that’s bothersome, Cadet Sorrengail? And maybe you’d like to ask 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 theyknewthe 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 thesquadof 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 knowwhenit 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?”

“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 was extraneous.

“What was the condition of the village?” a deep voice asks from the back of the lecture hall.

The hairs on my neck rise, my body recognizing the imminent threat behind me.

“Riorson?” Markham asks, shielding his eyes from the mage lights as he looks toward the top of the hall.

“The village,” Xaden restates. “Professor Devera said the damage would have been worse, but what was the actual condition? Was it burned? Destroyed? They wouldn’t demolish it if they were trying to establish a foothold, so the condition of the village matters when trying to determine a motive for the attack.”

Professor Devera smiles in approval. “The buildings they’d already gone through were burned, and the rest were being looted when the wing arrived.”

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