Page 98 - Fourth Wing

“On assessment day?” Nolon growls, cutting away the fabric of my short-

sleeve shirt with his dagger. The man is eighty-four if he’s a day, and he still
dresses in rider black, sheathed with all his weapons.

“Hermotherwasssss. OneofFennnnRiorson’s sepppara—sepppara—

sssseparatisssts,” I explain slowly, trying to enunciate and failing. “And
I’mmmmmaSorrengail, so I getit.”

“I don’t,” Nolon grumbles. “I’ve never agreed with the way they

conscripted those kids to the Riders Quadrant as punishment for the sins of
their parents. We have never forced conscripts into that quadrant. Ever. And

for a very good reason. Most cadets don’t survive—which was likely the

point, I suspect. Regardless, you certainly shouldn’t have to suffer for the
honor of your mother. General Sorrengail saved Navarre by capturing the

Great Betrayer.”
“So you won’t mend her, right?” Dain asks softly so he can’t be heard

outside the curtain. “I’m just asking that the healers do their work and let

nature take the time it needs. No magic. She doesn’t stand a chance if she
goes back in there in a cast or has to defend herself while her shoulder heals

from reconstruction surgery. The last one took her four months. This is our
chance to get her out of the Riders Quadrant while she’s still breathing.”

“I’mnotgoingtothesibes.” So much for not slurring. “Sibes,” I try again.

“SIBES.” Oh, fuck it. “Mendme.”
“I will always mend you,” Nolon promises.

“Just. This. Once.” I concentrate on every word. “If. The others. See I

need. Mending. Allthetime, they’ll. Think. I’m weak.”
“Which is why we have to use this opportunity to get you out!” Panic

rises in Dain’s voice, and my heart sinks. He can’t protect me from

everything, and watching me break, watching me eventually die is going to
ruin him. “Walking out of here and going straight to the Scribe Quadrant is

your best chance at survival.”
I glare at Dain and choose my words carefully. “I’m not.