A cold breeze blows past, and though it’s a momentary relief from the stifling heat, I know what it really means—the general is pissed. I glance skyward, but there’s only blue as far as I can see. At least she hasn’t summoned a storm. Yet.
“They’ve been missing for six days!” Aetos seethes, his voice rising with each angry word. “Naturally we reported them dead, but obviously we should have reported them for desertion and dereliction of duty instead.”
“You want to report us for desertion?” Xaden walks up the stairs of the dais, and Aetos backs up a step, fear flashing across his eyes. “You sent us into combat, and you’re going to report us for desertion?” Xaden doesn’t need to shout for his voice to carry across the formation.
“What is he talking about?” my mother asks, looking between Xaden and Aetos.
Here we go.
“I have no idea,” Aetos grinds out.
“I was directed to take a squad beyond the wards to Athebyne and form the headquarters for Fourth Wing’s War Games, and I did so. We stopped to rest our riot at the nearest lake past the wards, and we were attacked by gryphons.” The lie rolls off his tongue as smoothly as the truth, which is both impressive…and infuriating, because he doesn’t have a single fucking tell.
My mother blinks, and Aetos’s thick brows furrow.
“It was a surprise attack, and they caught Deigh and Fuil unaware.” Xaden pivots slightly, as though he’s telling the wings and not leadership. “They were dead before they ever had a chance.”
An ache unfurls in my chest, stealing my breath. The cadets around us murmur, but I stay focused on Xaden.
“We lost Liam Mairi and Soleil Telery,” Xaden adds, then looks over his shoulder at me. “And we almost lost Sorrengail.”
The general pivots and, for a second, looks down at me like she’s not just my commanding officer, with worry and a touch of horror in her eyes. She looks at me like she’s just…Mom.
I nod, the pain in my chest intensifying.
“He’s lying,” Colonel Aetos accuses. The certainty in his voice makes my head swim with the possibility that we might not pull this off, that we might be killed where we stand before we have the chance to convince my mother.
“I’m only behind the ridgeline,” Tairn tells me.
“Breathe,” Garrick whispers. “Or you’ll pass out.”
I inhale and focus on steadying my heartbeat.
“Why the hell would I lie?” Xaden tilts his head and looks down at Colonel Aetos with pure disdain. “But surely if you don’t believe me, then General Sorrengail can discern the truth from her own daughter.”
That’s my cue.
Step by step, I ascend the stairs of the thick, wooden platform to stand at Xaden’s left side. Sweat drips down the back of my neck as the morning sun beats against my flight leathers.
“Cadet Sorrengail?” My mother folds her arms and looks at me with expectation.
The weight of the quadrant’s attention makes me clear my throat. “It’s true.”
“Lies!” Aetos shouts. “There’s no way two dragons were brought down by a drift of gryphons. Impossible. We should separate them and interrogate them individually.”
My stomach pitches.
“I hardly think that’s necessary,” the general responds, an icy blast blowing back the flight-loosened tendrils of my hair. “And I would reconsider your insinuation that a Sorrengail isn’t truthful.”
Colonel Aetos stiffens.
“Tell me what happened, Cadet Sorrengail.” Mom cocks her head to the side and gives me the look—the one she used all throughout my childhood to unravel the truth when Brennan, Mira, and I would join ranks to hide any mischief.
“Selective truth,” Xaden reminds me. “Tell no lies.”
He makes it sound so fucking easy.
“We flew for Athebyne, as ordered.” I look her straight in the eyes. “As Riorson said, we stopped at the lake about twenty minutes out so we could water the dragons and dismounted. I only saw two of the gryphons appear with their riders, but everything happened so damned fast. Before I could even get a grasp on what was happening…” Hold it together. I brush my hand over my pocket, feeling the ridges of the little carving of Andarna Liam had been working on before he died. “Soleil’s dragon was killed, and Deigh was gutted.” My eyes water, but I blink until my vision clears. Mom only responds to strength. If I show any sign of weakness, she’ll dismiss my account as hysterics. “We didn’t stand a chance beyond the wards, General.”
“And then?” Mom asks, completely unemotional.
“Then I held Liam as he died,” I state, quick to hide the quiver in my chin.
“There was nothing we could do for him once Deigh passed.” It takes me a second to shove the memories, the emotion, back into the box they have to stay in for this to work. “And before his body was even cold, I was stabbed with a poison-tipped blade.”
Mom’s eyes flare, and she jerks her gaze away.
I turn my focus to Colonel Aetos. “But when we sought help in Athebyne, we found the entire outpost deserted and a note that Wingleader Riorson could choose to keep watch over a nearby village or race to Eltuval.”
“Here’s the missive.” Xaden reaches into his pocket and pulls out the orders from War Games. “Not sure what the destruction of a foreign village had to do with War Games, but we didn’t stick around to find out. Cadet Sorrengail was dying, and I chose to preserve what remained of my squad.” He hands the crumpled orders to Mom. “I chose to save your daughter.”
She snatches the orders and stiffens.
“It took us days to find someone capable of healing me, though I don’t remember being healed,” I tell them. “And the second my life was out of danger, we flew back here. We arrived about half an hour ago, as I’m sure Aimsir can verify.”
“And the bodies?” Aetos asks.
Oh shit. “I…” I have no fucking clue other than Xaden telling me they’d buried Liam.
“Sorrengail wouldn’t know,” Xaden answers. “She was delirious from the poison. Once we knew there was no help to be found at Athebyne, half the riot flew back to the lake and burned the bodies of both riders and dragons while I took the other half to find help. If you’re looking for proof, then you can find it either about a hundred yards from the lake, in the clearing to the east, or in the fresh scars on our dragons.”
“Enough.” Mom pauses, no doubt confirming with her dragon, then turns slowly toward Colonel Aetos, and though he has a few inches on her, he suddenly appears smaller. Frost blooms on the surface of the dais. “This is your handwriting. You emptied a strategically invaluable outpost beyond the wards for War Games?”
“It was only for a few days.” He has the good sense to retreat a step. “You told me the games were at my discretion this year.”
“And clearly your discretion lacks common fucking sense,” she retorts. “I’ve heard everything I need to hear. Correct the death roll, get these cadets into formation, and commence graduation so the new lieutenants can get to their wings. I expect to see you in my office in thirty minutes, Colonel Aetos.”
Relief nearly takes my knees out from under me. She believes me.
Dain’s dad stands at attention. “Yes, General.”
“You survived a knife wound after being thrown into combat as a first-year,” she says to me.
“I did.”
She nods, a satisfied half smile curving her mouth for all of a heartbeat. “Maybe you’re more like me than I gave you credit for.”
Without another word, Mom walks between me and the edge of the dais, leaving us with Colonel Aetos as she heads down the stairs. The frost dissipates instantly, and I hear her footsteps on the gravel behind us as the colonel turns on Xaden and me.
More like her? That’s the last thing I want to be.
“You will not get away with this,” Aetos hisses but keeps his voice low.
“Get away with what, exactly?” Xaden responds, equally quiet.
“We both know you weren’t taken off-mission by gryphons.” Spit flies from his mouth.