Finally, Devera opens the floor to the other years.
Rhiannon’s hand shoots up, and Devera calls on her.
“Do you think it’s possible that the enemy knew the outpost had been emptied for War Games and was trying to take advantage of the situation?” she asks.
Exactly.
Professors Devera and Markham share a look. “We do,” Professor Devera finally answers.
“But the delay would show a lag in the timing of their information, correct?” Rhiannon continues. “The outpost was only empty for what? A few days?”
“Five days, to be precise,” Markham answers. “And this attack occurred eight days after it was reoccupied.” His gaze skates over mine, then lifts to the rows above. “The Poromiel trading post nearby, Resson, was leveled by Poromish unrest a couple of weeks ago, and we think that may be helping disrupt their communication lines about our outpost.”
Poromish unrest?
Power rises within me so quickly that my skin heats.
Devera glances sideways at Markham. “We also don’t usually give you the answers.”
Markham chuckles and dips his head. “My apologies, Professor Devera. I must not be at my best today. Too little sleep in the last few days.”
“Happens to the best of us.”
I raise my hand, and Devera calls on me. “Where in the outpost were the gryphon riders found?”
“Near the armory.”
Shit. I nod. They were raiding the outpost for weapons. Our wards might not reach that far, but I’d bet my life a cache of daggers was moved there if leadership knew venin were in the vicinity. Brennan can’t supply even a fraction of the drifts. Of course they’re going to fight to steal weaponry. We need to smuggle more out.
“What would you do were you in command of the riot at the Athebyne outpost?” she asks the room, then calls on Caroline Ashton when she raises her hand.
“I’d double the patrol for the next few weeks in a show of force, and maybe consider razing a few Poromish border villages,” she suggests.
Rhiannon scoffs quietly.
“Remind me to never get on her bad side,” Ridoc mutters.
“In retaliation?” Dain interrupts. “That’s not our way. Read the Codex about the rules of engagement, Ashton.”
Says the man who sent me to my death.
“He’s right,” Devera agrees. “We defend our borders with lethal force, but we don’t take war to civilians.” We just don’t bother saving them, either. But does she know that? Shit, can I trust anyone around here?
But…maybe the whole report is wrong. Maybe it was wyvern and venin attacking, not gryphons. Maybe this entire presentation is a well-crafted lie.
“How many riders were wounded in the Athebyne attack, given that one was killed?” I ask.
“Four of us,” Devera answers, pointing at her arm. “Including me. This is courtesy of a rider with an excellent aim of her bow.”
So much for the not-gryphon idea.
We’re excused after another half hour of current events, and I ditch my squad in the crowd, searching out Bodhi.
He’s nearly to the steps of the briefing room before I catch up to him.
“Sorrengail?” he asks after we make it through the bottleneck of the doors.
“I want to help,” I whisper. Maybe I can do more than just read.
“For fuck’s sake.” He takes my elbow and pulls me into an alcove, towering over me with a look of exasperation. “I have direct instructions to keep you as far away from helping as possible.”
“He’s not even here, and he’s still giving you orders?” I adjust the strap of my bag on my shoulder as most of the quadrant funnels past.
“That tactic isn’t going to work on me, because yes.” He shrugs and scratches a pen into the cast on his arm.
“And I thought you were the most reasonable of the group.” I sigh. “Look, if I can help, then maybe we can prevent what I’m assuming are…supply runs.” Talking in code is ridiculous, but anyone could be listening. “Give me a job.”
“Oh, I am the most reasonable in the group.” He flashes a grin, leaning back on his heels. “I also don’t have a death wish. Survive second year and strengthen your shields, Sorrengail. That’s your job.”
“She trying to talk you into letting her join the shenanigans?” Imogen asks, stopping alongside us.
“‘Trying’ is the precise word,” Bodhi says. “Only trying.” He walks off into the crowd.
“How are we expected to go back to class like nothing happened?” I ask Imogen as we walk out into the flow of cadets headed for the main staircase of the academic wing.
“You’re supposed to act like nothing happened,” Imogen says quietly, waving at Quinn, who’s waiting ahead with Rhiannon. “That’s the deal we all made when we came here.” She moves her bag, twisting her wrist so her rebellion relic is front and center between us. “And like it or not, you’re one of us now. Well, as close as you can get without one of these.”
I shift my heavy pack on my shoulder and nod, realizing I know too little to actually help the marked ones and too much to speak frankly to my friends.
“Hey,” Imogen says to Quinn. “Lunch?”
“Absolutely,” Quinn answers.
The two walk ahead while Rhiannon falls back to keep pace with me.
“Doesn’t Quinn usually eat lunch with her girlfriend?” Rhi asks.
“Yes, but she graduated.”
“Right.” She sighs and lowers her voice. “I wanted to talk to you before breakfast but didn’t get a chance. I think the school is hiding something from us.”
I nearly trip over my own boots but catch my balance before I can make a fool out of myself. “I’m sorry?”
She can’t know. She just can’t. I barely survived losing Liam… I can’t fathom anything happening to her.
“I think there’s something going on in the Healer Quadrant,” she says, lowering her voice. “I tried to take a first-year to see Nolon yesterday after formation turned into a firepit, and he looks like absolute shit. I mean, the man could barely stand. And when I went to ask him if he was all right, the new vice commandant said he had more important things to do than talk to cadets and basically escorted him to that little door in the back of the infirmary, which is now guarded. I think they’re hiding something back there.”
I open and shut my mouth a couple of times, torn between confusion and relief. “Maybe they brought some of the injured riders from one of the outposts for mending,” I offer. The backlog would explain why Bodhi is still in a cast.
She shakes her head. “Since when do a few broken bones wreck a mender?”
“Maybe they brought in a prisoner from Poromiel.” Ridoc forces his way in between us. “And Nolon keeps healing them as Varrish breaks them. I heard one of the third-years say that’s what Varrish is known for—torture.”
“And you’re known for eavesdropping.” Rhi shakes her head.
Instead of eating lunch with my friends, I make a quick excuse and take my tray to the little library alcove in commons to finish reading United Navarre, a Study in Survival.