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“Codagh should have known better—” he starts.

“What are the other adolescents doing today?” I interrupt, hoping to distract her. The last thing I want to do is climb to any altitude she can’t handle and have her wing fail. Gods, the consequences of such a mistake would be incomprehensible.

“The other adolescents are not bonded and do not understand me.”

I swear I can feel Tairn roll his eyes.

“You’d rather risk all the work you’ve done with your wing to play war than actually…” Shit, what do adolescent dragons do all day, anyway? “Play?”

“I would rather test my wing on a training mission, yes.”

Rhiannon and Bragen head back our way, locked in discussion, both gesturing with their hands in motions that look like maneuvers. There’s a sheen of excitement in Rhiannon’s quick smile, and I find myself mirroring it. “She looks happy.”

“Maybe they’re finally going to let us fly farther than a half hour…you know, without making us hike up the Cliffs of Dralor after,” Ridoc remarks. “Gods, I miss flying.”

“That would be nice,” Sawyer agrees, shooting me a teasing smirk. “Not all of us get to take a pleasure flight to Cordyn, you know.”

“Hey, that joy ride got us a luminary.” I glance meaningfully at the sheath at his side, which holds an alloy-hilted dagger. One for one. That was the deal Brennan struck with the Assembly when it came to supplying the drifts, and we’ve finally made enough to equip every rider in Aretia with multiple daggers.

“Listen up, Second Squad,” Rhiannon says, looking over our group. “Our mission is simple. You know the summoning runes Trissa has been working on with us?” Even the first-years nod. They might not be able to weave runes, but at least they know what they are, which means they’re a step ahead of where we were last year. “There are thirty of them hidden within twenty miles along the western range. This isn’t just a test for us, but for our dragons to sense them.”

“Can you—”

Tairn growls in response.

Point made.

“Winner gets a weekend pass. No training. No homework. No limits.” She glances at Bragen, whose lips twitch into a smile.

“We’ve been given permission to fly wherever we want. If your gryphon feels comfortable flying the cliff wall, that means you can go anywhere.” He looks at Cat. “Even Cordyn, though you’d only have a few hours there before you’d have to start the flight back. If you win, of course.”

“Oh, we’re winning,” Maren says, shoulder-bumping Cat the same way Rhiannon does me.

“Good. You want that pass? We’ll need to find and close more of those runed boxes than they do.” She nods back toward Claw and Tail Sections.

“They return,” Tairn says as wingbeats fill the sky.

I look up, a slow smile spreading at the sight of Sgaeyl soaring overhead with Chradh and eight other dragons, but I only recognize the three bonded to Heaton, Emery, and Cianna. Xaden’s home…with a full riot of ten.

“I’m guessing you got your way with the new structure?” I ask Xaden as they land behind our line of gryphons and dragons.

Tairn breaks away as if we aren’t about to be sent on a training mission.

“Bragen and I will divide you up into groups of four according to your abilities,” Rhiannon continues.

“In a way,” Xaden answers, executing a perfect dismount and walking toward us. My pulse leaps and the worry that seems to live in my chest lifts a fraction when I don’t see any new injuries or blood.

“Sorrengail, you paying attention?” Rhi calls me out.

My head swivels back to the front of formation, where she’s arching an eyebrow at me.

“Teams of four. Split by ability,” I repeat with a nod, then give her a blatantly beseeching look that absolutely abuses her status as my best friend.

“We’ll have an hour once we launch,” Bragen says.

Go, Rhi mouths once the squad’s attention is on him.

I smile in thanks, then step out of formation and walk past Andarna and Feirge, over the trampled grass, straight to Xaden. The scruff on his jaw is thick with days of growth, and there are circles under his eyes as he reaches forward, surprising me by tugging me against his chest in front of all of Fourth Wing.

The cold beard tickles as he buries his icy face in my neck and breathes deeply. “I’ve missed you.”

“Same.” I wind my arms around his torso, sliding my hands in the space between the swords he wears crossed at his back and his flight jacket, then hold tight to help warm him. “I need to talk to you.”

“Bad news?” He pulls back and searches my eyes.

“No. Just news that’s best shared when there’s time to discuss.”

His brow knits.

“Good to see you, Vi,” Garrick says as he walks by, tapping me on the shoulder. “You definitely need to make him tell you about the venin he took down just outside Draithus.”

“You what?” My stomach pitches sideways.

“Thanks for that, asshole.” Xaden glares at Garrick.

“Just doing my part to help your communication skills thrive in a stable relationship.” Garrick turns and walks backward, lifting his hands in a shrug.

“Like you have any room to talk about stable relationships,” Imogen counters from behind him, the squad formation obviously having broken to ready for the mission.

“I’m going to skip the obvious pun to be made about plenty of mares in my stable.” He flashes a grin, then turns and heads toward the path at the end of the valley. “Seeing as I’m no longer a cadet but a mature, responsible officer.”

She scoffs as he walks by. “We need to go, Sorrengail.”

“You took down a venin?” I pivot, keeping my attention on Xaden. “Outside Draithus?” It’s the last Poromish stronghold before the Cliffs of Dralor.

“You have lengthy news to discuss?” he replies, lifting his brows.

“Are you all right?” I slide my hands to his face, scanning him like that tiny bit of exposed skin will tell me if the other ninety-five percent is unharmed. Being able to raise the wards won’t mean anything if he isn’t safe—at least it won’t mean anything to me.

“News?” His eyes narrow.

“Violet!” Rhiannon calls.

“I have to fly out.” I drop my hands reluctantly, and he catches one in his as I retreat a step. “We’ll talk when I get back.”

“Tell me now.”

“The wingleader voice doesn’t work on me.” I squeeze his hand and let go.

Are sens