Page 154 - Fourth Wing

Gauntlet.

“Stairs are for reaching the flight field on the top of the ridgeline after
Presentation,” Professor Emetterio says, then lifts his hands toward the

course and flicks his wrist, pointing at various obstacles.

The fifteen-foot log at the start of the uphill climb begins to spin. The
pillars on the third ascent shake. The giant wheel at the first switchback

starts its counterclockwise rotation, and those little posts Aurelie

mentioned? They all twist in opposite directions.
“Every one of the five ascents on this course is designed to mimic the

challenges you’ll face in battle.” Professor Emetterio turns to look at us, his

face just as stern as it is during our usual combat training. “From the
balance you must keep on the back of your dragon, to the strength you’ll

need to hold your seat during maneuvers, to”—he gestures upward, toward
the last obstacle that looks like a ninety-degree ramp from this angle—“the

stamina you’ll need to fight on the ground, then still be able to mount your

dragon at a second’s notice.”
The posts knock a chunk of granite loose, and the rock tumbles down the

course, smacking every obstacle in its path until it crashes twenty feet in
front of us. If there was ever a metaphor for my life, well…that’s it.

“Whoa,” Trina whispers, her brown eyes wide as she stares at the

pulverized rock. I’m the smallest of our squad, but Trina is the quietest, the
most reserved. I can count on both hands the number of times she’s spoken

to me since Parapet. If she didn’t have friends in First Wing, I’d worry, but

she doesn’t have to open up to us to survive the quadrant.
“You all right?” I ask her in a whisper.

She swallows and nods, one of her auburn ringlet curls bouncing against

her forehead.
“What if we can’t make it up?” Luca asks from my right, securing her

long hair in a loose braid, her usual haughtiness not so in-your-face today.
“What’s the alternative route?”