Page 51 - Fourth Wing

“Go before someone sees us,” Dain barks.

“Going,” she answers, shoving her foot into her boot and lacing it quickly
as I do the same with mine.

“You crossed the parapet with an equestrian boot too big for you?” Dain

asks, glaring down at me with incredulity.
“She would have died without trading mine.” I stand and wince as my

knee objects and tries to buckle.

“And you’re going to die if we don’t find you a way out of here.” He
offers his arm. “Take it. We need to get you to my room. You need to wrap

that knee.” His eyebrows rise. “Unless you found some miracle cure I don’t

know about in the last year?”
I shake my head and take his arm.

“Damn it, Violet. Damn it.” He tucks mine discreetly against his side,
grabs my rucksack with his empty hand, then leads me into a tunnel at the

end of the alcove in the outer wall I hadn’t even seen. Mage lights flicker on

in the sconces as we pass and extinguish after we go by. “You’re not
supposed to be here.”

“Well aware.” I let myself limp a little, since no one can see us now.
“You’re supposed to be in the Scribe Quadrant,” he seethes, leading me

through the tunnel in the wall. “What the hell happened? Please tell me you

did not volunteer for the Riders Quadrant.”
“What do you think happened?” I challenge as we reach a wrought-iron

gate that looks like it was built to keep out a troll…or a dragon.

He curses. “Your mother.”
“My mother.” I nod. “Every Sorrengail is a rider, don’t you know?”

We make it to a set of circular steps, and Dain leads me up past the first

and second floor, stopping us on the third and pushing open another gate
that creaks with the sound of metal on metal.

“This is the second-year floor,” he explains quietly. “Which means—”
“I’m not supposed to be up here, obviously.” I tuck in a little closer.