Page 258 - Fourth Wing

these all returns?”

I nod and reach into the pocket of my pants for a small scroll of
parchment and hand it to her before signing, “And a few requests from

Professor Devera.” The rider in charge of our small library sends a list of

requests and the returns every night, and I fetch them before breakfast,
which is probably why my stomach is growling.

Burning all the extra calories from a combination of flight, Rhiannon’s

sparring lessons, and Imogen’s torture sessions means I have an all-new
capacity for food.

“Anything else?” she asks after putting the scroll in a hidden pocket in

her robes.
Maybe it’s being in the Archives, but a stab of homesickness nearly

bowls me over. “Any chance you guys have a copy of The Fables of the
Barren?” Mira was right, I had no business bringing the book of fables with

me, but it would be nice to spend an evening curled up with a familiar story.

Jesinia’s brow furrows. “I’m not familiar with that text.”
I blink. “It’s not for academics or anything, just a collection of folklore

my dad shared with me. A little on the dark side, honestly, but I love it.” I
think for a moment. There’s no sign for wyvern or venin, so I spell them

out. “Wyvern, venin, magic, the battles of good and evil—you know, the

good stuff.” I grin. If anyone understands my love of books, it’s Jesinia.
“I’ve never heard of that one, but I’ll look for it while I pull these.”

“Thank you. I’d really appreciate it.” Now that I’m going to be the one

wielding magic, I could use a few good folktales of what happens when
humans defile the power channeled to them. No doubt they were written as

a parable to warn us of the dangers of bonding dragons, but in Navarre’s

six-hundred-year history of unification, I’ve never read of a single rider
losing their soul to their powers. The dragons keep us from that.

Jesinia nods and pushes the cart, disappearing into the shelves.
It usually takes about fifteen minutes to gather the requests that come in