Page 47 - Fourth Wing

“I think you made an enemy there,” the redhead says, casually shifting

the lethal crossbow she wears strapped along her shoulder. She glances at
me over the scroll with a shrewd look in her hazel eyes as she looks me up

and down. “I’d watch your back with that one if I were you.”

I nod. I’m going to have to watch my back and every other part of my
body.

The next candidate approaches from the parapet as someone grips my

shoulders from behind and spins me.
My dagger is halfway up when I realize it’s Rhiannon.

“We made it!” She grins, giving my shoulders a squeeze.

“We made it,” I repeat with a forced smile. My thighs are shaking now,
but I manage to sheath my dagger at my ribs. Now that we’re here, both

cadets, can I trust her?
“I can’t thank you enough. There were at least three times I would have

fallen off if you hadn’t helped me. You were right—those soles were slick

as shit. Have you seen the people around here? I swear I just saw a second-
year with pink streaks in her hair, and one guy has dragon scales tattooed up

his entire biceps.”
“Conformity is for the infantry,” I say as she loops her arm through mine

and tugs me along toward the crowd. My knee screams, pain radiating up to

my hip and down to my foot, and I limp, my weight falling into Rhiannon’s
side.

Damn it.

Where did this nausea come from? Why can’t I stop shaking? I’m going
to fall any second now—there’s no way my body can remain upright with

this earthquake in my legs or the whirring in my head.

“Speaking of which,” she says, glancing down. “We need to trade boots.
There’s a bench—”

A tall figure in a pristine black uniform steps out of the crowd, charging
toward us, and though Rhiannon manages to dodge, I stumble smack into