Page 116 - Fourth Wing

I imagine you’ve all but buried me in your mind by now.”

He glances at the dagger poised at his stomach. “Do you plan on telling
anyone about my little club?” His eyes meet mine, and there’s nothing but

cold, calculating death waiting there.

“No,” I answer truthfully, suppressing a shiver.
“Why not?” He tilts his head to the side, examining my face like I’m an

oddity. “It’s illegal for the children of separatist officers to assemble in—”

“Groups larger than three. I’m well aware. I’ve lived at Basgiath longer
than you.” I lift my chin.

“And you’re not going to run off to Mommy, or your precious little Dain,

and tell them we’ve been assembling?” His gaze narrows on mine.
My stomach twists just like it did before I stepped out onto the parapet,

like my body knows that whatever action I take next will determine my life-
span. “You were helping them. I don’t see why that should be punished.” It

wouldn’t be fair to him or the others. Was their little meeting illegal?

Absolutely. Should they die for it? Absolutely not. And that’s exactly what
will happen if I tell. Those first-years will be executed for nothing more

than asking for tutoring, and the senior cadets will join them just because
they helped. “I’m not going to tell.”

He looks at me like he’s trying to see through me, and ice prickles my

scalp.
My hand is steady, but my nerves tremble at what the next thirty seconds

might bring. He can kill me right here, toss my body into the river, and no

one will know I’m gone until they find me downstream.
But I won’t let him end me without drawing his blood first, that’s for

damn sure.

“Interesting,” he says softly. “We’ll see if you keep your word, and if you
do, then unfortunately, it looks like I owe you a favor.” Then he steps away,

turns, and walks off, heading back toward the staircase in the cliff that leads
up to the citadel.