Page 71 of Fourth Wing

I can’t just stand here and do nothing.

You can get there first and warn it.

Solid plan, and way better than option two, where I’d be forced to take on three armed men with at least a combined two hundred pounds on me.

I keep my footsteps silent and race across the forest floor at a slightly different angle than Jack’s little posse, thankful I grew up playing hide-and-seek with Dain in the woods. This is one area of expertise I can confidently claim.

They’ve got a head start on me, and the clearing is closer than I realized, so I kick up my speed, my gaze darting between the leaf-covered path I’ve chosen and where I think—scratch that, where I know they are toward the left. I can make out their lumbering shapes in the distance.

I hear apop, and the ground falls out from under me, then rushes for my face. My hands fly out to brace myself a second before I slam into the forest floor. I bite into my lower lip to keep from crying out as my ankle screams. Popping isn’t good. It’s never good.

Glancing back, I curse at the fallen branch, hidden by fall foliage, that’s just wrecked my ankle. Shit.

Block the pain. Block it.But there’s no mental trick to keep the shooting agony from turning my stomach as I drag myself to my knees and rise carefully, keeping my weight on my left ankle.

There’s nothing to do but limp the final dozen feet to the clearing, gritting my teeth the whole way. The tinge of satisfaction that I beat Jack here is almost enough to make me smile.

The meadow is big enough for ten dragons, ringed by several large trees, but the golden one stands alone in the center, like it’s trying to get a suntan. It’s just as beautiful as I remember, but unless it can breathe fire, it’s a sitting duck.

“You have to get out of here!” I hiss from the cover of the trees, knowing it should be able to hear me. “They’re going to kill you if you don’t leave!”

Its head pivots toward me, then tilts at an angle that makes my own neck hurt.

“Yes!” I whisper loudly. “You! Goldie!”

It blinks its golden eyes and swishes its tail.

You have to be fucking kidding me.

“Go! Run! Fly!” I shoo at it, then remember it’s a godsdamned dragon, capable of shredding me with its claws alone, and drop my hands. This is not going well. It’s going theoppositeof well.

The trees rustle from the south, and Jack steps into the clearing, his sword swaying in his right hand. A step later, he’s flanked by Oren and Tynan, both their weapons drawn.

“Shit,” I mutter, my chest tightening. This is now officially goinghorribly.

The golden dragon’s head snaps in their direction, a low growl rumbling in its chest.

“We’ll make it painless,” Jack promises, like that makes the murder acceptable.

“Scorch them,” I whisper-shout, my heart pounding as they draw closer. But the dragon doesn’t, and somehow, I’m certain in the marrow of my bones that it can’t. Other than its teeth, it’s defenseless against three trained warriors.

It’s going to die just because it’s smaller, weaker than the other dragons…just like me. My throat closes.

The dragon backs up, its growl growing louder as it bares its teeth.

Stomach pitching, I have that Parapet feeling again—whatever I do next has overwhelming odds of ending my life.

And yet, I’m still going to do it because this iswrong.

“You can’t do this!” I take the first step into the shin-high grass and Jack’s attention swings my way. My ankle has a heartbeat of its own, and agony streaks up my spine, chattering my teeth as I force my weight onto my ruined joint so they won’t see me limping. They can’t know I’m hurt, or they’ll just attack faster.

One at a time, I stand a chance of holding them off long enough for the dragon to escape, but together…

Don’t think about it.

“Oh, look!” Jack grins, pointing his sword my way. “We can take out both the weakest links at the same time!” He looks at his friends and laughs, pausing their advance.

Each step hurts worse than the last, but I make it to the center of the clearing, putting myself between Jack’s group and the golden dragon.

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