Page 386 - Fourth Wing

showstopper, something no one else could compare to. But… I shake my

head. It’s too risky.
“What are you thinking, Sorrengail?” Imogen asks and the room falls

silent. “I can see the little gears turning in your mind.”

“It’s probably nothing.” I glance at the members of our squad. But is it
nothing?

“Get up here and work it out in your head,” Imogen orders.

“Seriously, it’s mad. Like, undoable. We’d get thrown in the brig if we’re
caught.” I snap my mouth shut before I say anything more.

But it’s too late—Imogen’s eyes are sparkling with interest.

“Get. Up. Here. And. Work. It. Out,” she orders, making sure I know it’s
not a suggestion.

“We can wield, right?” I stand, brushing my hands down my sides and the
hilts of the six daggers sheathed there.

“By all means necessary,” Heaton repeats, nodding.

“All right.” I rock back on my heels, letting my mind whirl through a
plan. “I know Ridoc can wield ice, Rhiannon can retrieve, Sawyer can

manipulate metal, Imogen can mind-wipe recent memories—”
“And I’m fast,” she adds.

Something she has in common with Xaden.

“Heaton, what about you?” I ask.
“I can breathe underwater,” they answer.

I blink. “Awesome, but I don’t think that’s going to come in handy if we

do this. Emery?”
“I can control wind.” He grins. “A lot of wind.”

All right, that one could be defensively useful, but not quite what I’m

looking for.
My boots squeak on the floor as I turn to face her. “Quinn?”

“I can astral project. Keep my body in one place and then walk around
somewhere else.”