Page 163 - Fourth Wing

over and over in my head, coming to the same conclusion each time.

“I never got the chance to ask you if you made it all the way up,” he says.
I shake my head. “I got caught at the chimney formation and had to use a

rope to get back down. I’m too short to span the distance, but I’m not

thinking about that tonight. I’ll figure something out before the official
timed Gauntlet on Presentation day.”

I’ll have to. They don’t allow cadets to climb back down on the final day.

You either complete the Gauntlet—or you fall to your death.
“All right. Let me know if you need me.” He lets me go.

I nod and make every excuse to get out of the dormitory hallway. The

weight of Aurelie’s pack is staggering. She was strong enough to carry so
much over the parapet, and yet she fell.

And I’m somehow still standing.
I can’t shake the feeling that I’m carrying her with me as I climb the

stairs of the academic tower’s turret, past the Battle Brief room and up to

the stone roof, going by a few other cadets on their way down. The burn pit
is nothing more than an extra-wide iron barrel, whose only purpose is to

incinerate, and the flames burn bright against the night sky as I stumble out
onto the roof, my lungs straining for oxygen.

A couple of months ago, I couldn’t have carried a pack this heavy.

There’s no one else up here as I slip the bag from my shoulder.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, my fingers digging into the wide strap of the

pack as I fling it up and over the metal edge of the bin.

The flames catch and whoosh as it becomes more fuel for the fire, just
another tribute to Malek, the god of death.

Instead of walking back down the stairs, I make my way to the edge of

the turret. It’s a cloudy night, but I can make out the shadows of three
dragons as they approach from the west and even see the ridge where the

Gauntlet lays, waiting to claim its next victim.
It won’t be me.