fourth wing xadens pov

chapter 10

Chapter 10: Fliers

“Tell me again,” Sgaeyl says, as we cruise closer to our meeting point outside Athebyne. We’ve been flying for hours already, but it’s a beautiful night; the moonlight shimmers off the snow on the peaks and shadows dance through the treetops as they sway under the beat of the dragons’ wings.

I’ve read it so many times it’s engrained in my brain. “General Sorrengail has put Violet in the Rider’s Quadrant. We’re watching over her for you. Can we trust her?” Bodhi wrote it in the end, ignoring Imogen’s insistent pleas to strike out the second line that implied she’s on protection detail.

It’s factual, reassuring and puts the power in Brennan’s hands to decide how far we can trust her. I sure as hell don’t want to make that call.

Sgaeyl snorts. “I still like my version better.”

“Your version would have ended with Brennan’s hands around my neck,” I mutter under my breath.

She dives down vertically, and it’s so unexpected, I struggle to keep my seat, my shadows whipping out to grip her pommel.

“I heard that,” she says as she brings us parallel to the ground once more, glaring back at me over her shoulder with one golden eye.

“I meant you to,” I retort, but I grin back at her.

We’re almost at the clearing now, and I send my shadows spilling out along the ground before we land. Two gryphons and their fliers wait in the darkness near the edge of the clearing, moonlight glinting off the lake where it laps near their feet.

It’s a risk coming tonight with the moon so full and high, the skies cloudless after the intensity of the storms that raged the past few nights. Any passing patrol could spot us. But back at Basgiath, it’s the first day of Gauntlet trials and the sheer scale of death that comes from the first few runs is as good a distraction as any.

“All clear,” I say to Sgaeyl, who wordlessly communicates with Garrick and Bodhi’s dragons flanking us. The three dragons curve downwards over the clearing, landing near the lake.

Syrena and Nyal stride out of the treeline to meet us as we dismount, the dragons turning to drink deep from the lake at our side.

“We’ve been waiting for hours!” Syrena yells it at us, gesturing up at the skies when she’s still a good thirty feet from us. Garrick sighs heavily next to me, already accepting the tone for this meeting.

“Well, we’ve been flying for hours.” I retort as they draw closer, the gryphons following close behind. Shadows tense in the treeline surrounding us, waiting.

They stop a few feet from us. Syrena’s face twists as she clocks the bags we’re holding.

“Is that it?” The anger has leeched from her voice, the disappointment so clear in her words as her eyes dart behind us like she’s hoping there’s more.

Bodhi and Garrick throw the two bags onto the grass separating us, the weapons clinking together inside. We all know it’s not enough.

Syrena stares at the bags in disbelief, silence stretching between us.

Eventually, Bodhi cracks, “Be grateful we managed to get our hands on these.” Garrick tenses beside me.

Syrena locks eyes with Bodhi, who’s just given her a target to channel every ounce of fear and desperation she feels. “Grateful? You want me to be grateful?” Her gaze pierces each of us in turn. “Oh, I’m sorry, should I be grateful that it’s sheer dumb luck that puts your people safe behind the wards, while mine get slaughtered?”