Page 224 - Fourth Wing

my splinted ankle. There are about a million other questions in his slashing,

dark eyes, but he keeps them to himself.
“Hurts like hell.” The swelling made it nearly impossible to get my boot

back on without loosening every single lace to its widest position, but at

least I didn’t have to crawl across the field like a girl from Second Wing
who had broken her leg during dismount. She’s seven tables back, crying

softly as the rider field medics try to set her leg.

“You’ll be focused on strengthening your bonds and riding in the next
couple of months, so as long as you don’t have trouble mounting or

dismounting”—his head tilts as he ties off the straps of my splint—“which,

after what I saw, I don’t think you will—this sprain should heal before your
next round of challenges.” Two lines deepen between his brow. “Or I can

call Nolon—”
“No.” I shake my head. “I’ll heal.”

“If you’re sure?” He obviously isn’t.

“Every eye in this valley is on me and my dragon—dragons,” I correct
myself. “I can’t afford to appear weak.”

He frowns but nods.
“Do you know who made it out of my squad?” I ask, fear knotting my

throat. Please let Rhiannon be alive. And Trina. And Ridoc. And Sawyer. All

of them.
“I haven’t seen Trina or Tynan,” Professor Kaori answers slowly, like

he’s trying to soften a blow. It doesn’t.

“Tynan won’t be coming,” I whisper, guilt gnawing at my stomach.
“That is not your kill to take credit for,” Tairn mentally growls.

“I see,” Professor Kaori murmurs.

“What the hell do you mean you think it needs surgery?” Jack bellows
from my left.

“I mean, it looks like the weapon severed a couple of ligaments, but we’ll
have to get you to the healers to be sure,” the other instructor says, his voice