Page 60 of Fourth Wing

“Change. Your. Mind.” His hand finds mine, concealed by our tight formation as we descend through the passage. “Please.”

“I can’t.” I shake my head. “Any more than you would leave Cath and run to the scribes yourself.”

“That’s different.” His hand squeezes mine, and I can feel the tension in his fingers, his arm. “I’m a rider.”

“Well, maybe I am, too,” I whisper as light appears ahead. I didn’t believe it before, not when I couldn’t leave because my mother wouldn’t let me, but now I have a choice. And I choose to stay.

“Don’t be—” He cuts himself off and drops my hand. “I don’t want to bury you, Vi.”

“It’s inevitable that one of us will have to bury the other.” It’s not macabre, just fact.

“You know what I mean.”

The light grows into an archway that’s ten feet high, leading us to the base of the Gauntlet.

“Please don’t do this,” Dain begs, not bothering to lower his voice this time as we emerge into the mottled sunlight.

The view is spectacular as always. We’re still high on the mountain, thousands of feet above the valley, and the greenery seems to stretch endlessly to the south, with random clusters of squat trees among colorful slopes of wildflowers. My gaze turns to the Gauntlet carved into the face of the cliff, and I can’t help but follow each obstacle higher and higher until I’m staring at the top of the ridgeline that the maps I’ve studied show leads into a box canyon—the flight field. I bite my lip as I stare at the break in the tree line.

Normally, only riders are allowed on the flight field—except for Presentation.

“I don’t know if I can watch,” Dain says, drawing my attention back to his strong face. His perfectly trimmed beard brackets full lips drawn tight into a frown.

“Then close your eyes.” I have a plan—a shitty one, but it’s worth a try.

“What changed between Parapet and now?” Dain asks again, a wealth of emotions in his eyes that I can’t begin to interpret. Well, except the fear. That doesn’t need any interpretation.

“Me.”

…

An hour later, my feet fly over the spinning posts of the staircase, and I jump to the safety of the gravel path. Third ascent complete. Two more to go. And I haven’t touched a single rope.

I swear I can feel Dain staring from the bottom of the course, where Tynan and Luca have yet to start their climb, but I don’t look down. There’s no time for what he thinks will be one last look, and I can’t afford the delay of comforting him when there are still two obstacles ahead of me.

Which means there’s one I haven’t even had the chance to practice—the nearly vertical ramp at the end.

“You can do it!” Rhiannon yells from the top as I reach the chimney structure.

“Or you can do us all a favor and fall!” another voice yells. Jack, no doubt. At least it’s only been our squad at practice sessions, but every first-year can watch now, either from the base of the course or the edges of the cliff above.

I look up at the hollow column I’m supposed to climb, then dart back a few feet along the path.

“What are you doing?” Rhiannon shouts as I grab one of the ropes and drag it horizontally across the surface of the cliff, sending pebbles into free fall.

It’s heavy as hell and protests the stretch, but I manage to get the bottom portion onto the chimney structure. Pulling the rope as tight as it can go, I plant one foot on the side of the shaft and give the rope a tug, then send up a prayer to Zihnal that this is going to work.

“Can shedothat?” someone snaps.

I’m doing it now.

Then I lift my other foot and begin to climb up the chimney, using only the right side, walking up stone and leveraging my weight with the rope, hand over hand. The line slips about halfway up as the rope scrapes over a large boulder, but I quickly take up the slack and keep climbing. My heart thunders in my ears, but it’s my hands that are killing me. It feels like flames are eating my palms, and I grit my teeth so I don’t cry out.

There it is. The top.

The rope barely cuts the corner of the structure now, and I use what’s left of my upper-body strength to pull myself up, scrambling to my hands and knees on the path.

“Hell yes!” Ridoc yells, hooting from the top. “That’s our girl!”

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