Whisper [Fourth Wing]

Chapter Twelve

"DORIA MERRILL," CAPTAIN FITZGIBBONS says from the dais.

Every one of his features is crystal clear, not only because the sun is behind the shade of the clouds but because we're closer. Our formation gets tighter with every cadet who falls. Almost twenty three in the past week alone have fallen and that's only first years. Plenty of second years died during their classes like that boy from Third Wing who fell off his dragon during fight class two days ago. Just to prove being a second year cadet didn't mean you knew everything about riding a dragon.

According to statistics, today will be one of the deadliest for first-years. It's Presentation Day, and in order to get to the flight field, they'll have to climb the Gauntlet first. Everything about the Riders Quadrant is designed to weed out the weak, and today is no exception.

"Kamryn Dyre." Captain Fitzgibbons continues to read from the roll. "Arvel Pelipa." Imogen and Quinn—both second-years—suck in a breath behind me. First-years aren't the only ones at risk; they're just the most likely to die.

"Michel Iverem." Captain Fitzgibbons closes the roll. "We commend their souls to Malek." And with that final word, formation breaks. "Second- and third-years, unless you're on Gauntlet duty, head to class. First-years, it's time to show us what you've got."

Great. Unfortunately, I did have Gauntlet duty. One of the tiresome duties of being a squad executive that I did not sign up for when I let Dain pick me. I didn't want to watch a bunch of first-years fall down that cliff. Certainly not anyone out of our squad.

Unless it was Luca. Or Tynan. I could handle those two falling.

Dain forces a smile and skips right over Violet as he looks at our squad.

"Good luck today." Imogen tucks an errant strand of pink hair behind her ear and aims a sickly-sweet smile right at Vi. "Hopefully you won't fall...short."

I roll my eyes. "Don't you have class to get to, Im?" I loved that girl but sometimes she could really get on my nerves.

She stares at me with a sickly sweet smile. "Of course I do," she says before turning to Violet with complete loathing for a second, then walk-in off with Quinn and Cianna.

"Best of luck." Heaton—the thickest third-year in our squad, with red flames cut and dyed into their hair—taps their heart, right over two of their patches, and offers the first years a genuine but flat-lipped smile before heading to class.

"I didn't realize Heaton actually knew how to speak." Two lines appear between Ridoc's brows.

"Maybe they figure they should at least say hi before we're potentially roasted today," Rhiannon says.

"Heaton's just...shy." I say with a smile. He was shy. To people who didn't know him. It took almost the entirety of last year to get him to talk to me.

"Back into formation," Dain orders.

"Are you going with us?" Violet asks.

"Wouldn't miss the chance to watch Luca fall flat on her face." I say, shooting the first-year cadet a smile that reveals just a bit too much of my teeth. "Or the chance that Jack Barlowe may get scorched by a dragon. Now that would be amazing to watch."

Violet just shakes her head, a small smile on the corner of her lips. "That won't happen."

"I don't know." I nudge her shoulder with my own. "I could always ask Liusaidh to do it for you. She can be pretty convincing at times. The other dragons are terrified of her and Sgaeyl."

Terrified was to put it lightly. Only six dragons would go near Sgaeyl and Liusaidh. Their mates. Cridhe obviously. My mothers dragon. Codagh. And...the golden one. Cridhe's friend, Andarna. She was my favourite.