“Apparently not,” Xaden replies.
It’s almost comical how Commandant Panchek’s mouth hangs open as he turns toward us from his seat on the dais, and within seconds, my mother and Colonel Aetos stand, blocking his view.
Jesinia steps forward, her brown eyes wide under her cream hood as she fetches the death roll for Captain Fitzgibbons. “I’m happy you’re alive,” she signs quickly before grabbing the roll.
“Me, too,” I sign back, a sick feeling taking hold. Does she know what her quadrant is really teaching her? Neither of us had a clue during the months and years we studied together.
Colonel Aetos’s cheeks grow increasingly red with every step we take, his gaze skimming our party of eight, no doubt taking note of who’s here and who isn’t.
My mother locks eyes with me for one heartbeat, a side of her mouth tilting upward in an expression I’m almost scared to call…pride, before she quickly masks it, resuming the professional distance she’s maintained impeccably for the last year. One heartbeat. That’s all it takes for me to know that I’m right. There’s no anger in her eyes—no fear or shock, either. Just relief.
She wasn’t in on Aetos’s plan. I know it with every fiber of my being.
“I don’t understand,” Fitzgibbons says to the two scribes behind him, then addresses Panchek. “They aren’t dead. Why would they have been reported for the death roll?”
“Why were they reported for the death roll?” my mother asks Colonel Aetos, her eyes narrowing.
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.