Page 157 - Fourth Wing

Tynan hangs from the second of five buoy balls on the second ascent,

right where the ground drops out. If he falls, he’s got a minuscule chance of
hitting the single spinning log from the first ascent and overwhelming odds

of dropping thirty feet to the ground below.

“You have to keep moving, Tynan!” I shout, though it’s doubtful he can
hear me from here. He might be a gullible ass, but he’s still my squadmate.

He shrieks, his arms wrapped around the swinging ball. It’s impossible

for him to reach his hands completely around—that’s the point, and he’s
slipping.

“He’s going to screw her time,” Aurelie says, blowing out a bored sigh.

“Good thing this is only practice, then,” Ridoc says, then bellows up at
Tynan. “What’s the matter, Tynan? Scared of heights? Who’s the liability

now?”
“Stop.” I elbow Ridoc in the side. He’s not quite as lean now. The last

seven weeks have put some muscle on him. “Just because he’s a dick

doesn’t mean you have to be.”
“But he’s giving me so much material to work with,” Ridoc replies, a

corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk as he backs away, heading toward
the starting position.

“Swing to the next one!” Trina suggests from the top of the course.

“I can’t!” Tynan’s shriek could break glass as it echoes down the
mountain, and it makes my chest tighten.

“Ridoc, start!” Professor Emetterio commands.

Ridoc charges over the log.
“Rhi!” I shout up. “The rope is between the first and second!”

She nods down at me, then jumps for the first buoy ball, clasping it up

top, near where the chains hold it to the iron rail above, and swinging her
weight around the side.

It’s an utterly inspired approach, one that might just work for me.
Gravel crunches beneath my boots as I move to the starting position. Oh,