Page 100 - Fourth Wing

The barracks are nearly full by the time I make my way back later that

night, my throbbing right arm cradled in a light-blue sling that makes me an
even bigger target, if that’s possible.

Slings say weak. They say breakable. They say liability to the wing. If I

break this easily on the mat, what’s going to happen if I get on the back of a
dragon?

The sun has long since gone down, but the hall is lit by the soft glow of

mage lights as the other first-year women get ready for bed. I offer a smile
to a girl who’s holding a blood-speckled cloth to her swollen lip, and she

returns it with a wince.

I count three empty bunks in our row, but that doesn’t mean those cadets
are dead, right? They could be in the Healer Quadrant just like I was, or

maybe they’re in the bathing chambers.
“You’re here!” Rhiannon jumps off her bed, already dressed in her

sleeping shorts and top, relief in her eyes and smile as she sees me.

“I’m here,” I assure her. “I’m already down one shirt, but I’m here.”
“You can get another at central issue tomorrow.” She looks like she might

hug me but glances at my sling and backs up a step, sitting on the edge of
her bunk as I do the same with mine, facing her. “How bad is it?”

“It’s going to hurt for the next few days, but I’ll be fine as long as I keep

it immobilized. I’ll be all healed up before we start on-mat challenges.”
I have two weeks to figure out how to keep this from happening again.

“I’ll help you get ready,” she promises. “You’re the only friend I have in

here, so I’d rather you didn’t die when it gets real.” A corner of her mouth
lifts in a wry smile.

“I’ll try my best not to.” I grin through the throbbing ache in my shoulder

and arm. The tonic has long since worn off, and it’s starting to hurt like hell.
“And I’ll help you with history.” I brace my weight on my left hand, and it

slides just beneath my pillow.
There’s something there.