Page 359 - Fourth Wing

“The third-years are off doing third-year things,” I tell him as my toes

touch the mat. “You can’t get him here in time, but I know what it means to
you to keep your word. Especially with him. Go ahead.”

He looks from me to Ridoc. “Guard her like you’re me.”

“You mean like I’m six inches taller and built like a bull?” Ridoc gives
him a thumbs-up. “Sure. I’ll do my best. In the meantime, you’d better

run.”

Liam’s gaze finds mine. “Stay alive.”
“Working on it, and not just for my sake.” I give him a smile. “Thanks for

being a great shadow.”

His eyes widen a split second before he sprints out of the gym.
“Barlowe and Sorrengail,” Emetterio calls from the opposite side of the

mat. “Weapons?”
Jack bounces like a kid who’s just been given a gift. “Anything she can

hold in those puny hands of hers.” The look in his eyes sends a shiver of

apprehension down my spine.
I step onto the mat, and Jack does the same, walking forward until we’re

at the center, facing each other.
“No wielding,” Emetterio reminds us. “Tap out or knockout earns you a

victory.”

Pretty sure everyone gathered around this mat knows that Jack isn’t going
for either of those options. If he gets his hands around my neck, I’m dead.

“That whole I-die-Xaden-dies thing is really just a hypothesis, right?” I

ask, unsheathing the daggers that are hardest to reach during a fight, the
ones in my boots.

“One I’d rather not put to the test,” Tairn growls.

I stand, gripping the handles of my daggers, as Jack faces me with a
single knife. “You’re kidding, right? Only one?”

“I only need one.” He grins with sickening excitement.
“Go for the gullet,” Tairn suggests.