Page 358 - Fourth Wing

happen?” he asks, incredulous.

“Just like you have the last two challenges.” I force another smile. “Don’t
worry. I’m going to use everything I have to my advantage.” And

everything I have is currently in a vial tucked into the tiny pocket at my

waist.
“I don’t like this.” He shakes his head.

“Yeah, well, that makes two of us.”

There’s no flight field today—the dragons have deemed it too cold to fly
over the last week, which means we’re all headed to the sparring gym after

formation. I don’t bother with breakfast, but I pay close attention to every

single thing on Jack’s tray as I walk by, noting what’s there…and what
isn’t.

My heart pounds a chaotic, nauseating rhythm by the time all eighty-one
of the surviving first-years gather in the gym.

Professor Emetterio calls out the challenges one by one, assigning them

to a mat. At least we’ll all fight at once, which means not every rider will be
watching.

At least Xaden isn’t here, which means Liam kept his word.
“Mat seventeen, Jack Barlowe from First Wing versus…” His eyebrows

rise, and he takes a deep breath. “Violet Sorrengail.”

Thank gods Rhiannon’s already across the floor, ready to challenge a
woman from Third Wing, so she doesn’t have to see how the blood drains

from Liam’s face. She shouldn’t have to see any of this. Sawyer’s gone, too,

over at mat nine.
“No fucking way,” Ridoc mutters, shaking his head.

“Finally!” Jack throws his hands in the air like he’s already won.

“Let’s do this.” I roll my shoulders and head for the mat. Neither Liam
nor Ridoc is called to the mat today, so they walk at my sides.

“Tell me I can break the promise,” Liam begs, and the pleading look in
his eyes tells me exactly what a shitty position I’ve put him in.