Page 388 - Fourth Wing

“Must be nice to get a break,” Nadine remarks, but there’s no snotty tone

I’ve come to expect, just the same exhaustion I think we all feel. “Scribes
will all go home for the summer. Healers get to spend their weekends on

those mind-body-health retreats, and the infantry might have to practice

making and breaking camp in the snow through winter, but at least they
spend those months around a campfire.”

“We’ll get to go home,” Imogen argues.

“After graduation,” Rhiannon retorts. “For what? A couple of days?”
We come to a fork in the path, where we can follow the tunnel down to

the Archives or climb into the fortress of the war college.

“There’s no turning back from here,” I say to the group, looking up the
spiral staircase I’ve climbed so many times that I know each step by heart.

“Lead on!” Quinn orders, and we all jump about a foot in the air.
“Shhh!” Imogen hisses. “Some of us can get caught, you know.”

“Right. Sorry.” Quinn cringes.

“Everyone, remember the plan,” I whisper. “No one deviates. No one.”
They all nod, and we begin our silent climb up the dark stairs, then cling

to the shadows as we cross the stone courtyard of Basgiath.
“Sure could use Xaden right about now.”

“You’re doing great,” Andarna assures me in the happiest of tones. I

swear, nothing bothers her. She’s the most fearless kid I’ve ever met, and I
grew up with Mira.

“It’s six flights straight up,” I whisper when we reach the next set of

stairs, and we continue to climb as fast as we can without making any noise.
Anxiety spikes, and my power rises in response, the relic in my back

heating to an uncomfortable burn. It’s always there lately, simmering

beneath my skin, reminding me that performing lesser magics isn’t going to
be enough to vent it if I don’t manifest a signet soon.

Eventually, we reach the top of the steps, and Liam leans out just far
enough to see down the length of what’s always felt like the world’s longest