Fourth Wing (The Empyrean, #1)

by Rebecca Yarros

The top button of his flight jacket is undone, and I grip the fabric and tug him toward me. At what point is this constant craving for him going to be assuaged? I’ve had him multiple times in the past twenty-four hours and could still go another round…or three. “Is it wrong to wish we’d had time to finish?” “Not sure I’ll ever be finished.”

“The gryphons look tasty from here,” she responds.

“What happened to meeting tomorrow? We don’t have a full shipment,” Xaden says to the gryphon rider, his voice calm and even.

“We were patrolling from Draithus yesterday—it’s about an hour southeast from here—” “I know where Draithus is,” Xaden retorts.

“We lost a village in the vicinity to a horde of venin two days ago. They decimated everything.” I startle, my eyes flying wide. She just said what? “Venin never come this far west,”

I’m the outsider here. “Good luck, Riorson.”

In the chaos of the flight field, Xaden constructed an all-marked squad. And they’re all. Fucking. Traitors. And I fell for it. I fell for him. “Yes. They are,” he agrees, resignation in his tone.

“You and Andarna lied to me, too.” The treachery of it is too much, and my shoulders dip from the weight of it. “You knew what he was doing.” “We both chose you,” Andarna says, like that makes it any better. “But you knew.” I look past where Liam dares to stare at me with sorrow, to Tairn, whose lethal focus lies straight ahead like he hasn’t quite decided if he’s going to burn Xaden alive or not. “Dragons are bound by bonds,” he explains as Xaden approaches. “There is only one other bond more sacred than that of a dragon and its rider.” A dragon and its mate.

“Were we ever really friends?” I whisper at Liam, searching for the strength to yell. “We are friends, Violet, but I owe him everything,” Liam answers, and when I glance up, he’s watching me with so much

“Gods, you are such a cliché, Xaden. You’re a villain hiding in plain fucking sight.”

“Actually, they’re called fliers,”

“Dragons have riders, and gryphons have fliers.”

“You’re saying people who can somehow tap into the source of magic without a dragon or gryphon to channel, corrupting their power beyond all salvation, actually exist.” I say the words slowly just so we’re crystal clear. “They’re not just part of the creation fable.” “Yes.”

“Fine. Were I to believe venin exist and roam the Continent wielding dark magic, then I’d also have to believe they never attack Navarre because…” My eyes widen at the possibility’s logical conclusion. “Because our wards make all non-dragon magic impossible.”

“Why the hell would we choose to do nothing about people being slaughtered? It goes against everything we stand for.” “Because the only thing that kills venin is the very thing powering our wards.”

Venin are real. Venin. Are. Real.

know you’ll make the right choice when the time comes. He warned me the only way he could have: through books. “Yes,” I say, handing the dagger back to Xaden. “I believe you. That doesn’t mean I trust you anymore.”

“We know we didn’t lie. We just didn’t tell you everything,” Andarna says, flying in the pocket of air behind Tairn with the least wind resistance as we make our way to the outpost.

“We made a choice to protect you—without your consent. It was an error, and one that I won’t make again.”

“One generation to change the text. One generation chooses to teach that text. The next grows, and the lie becomes history.”

“Wyvern. Fables say venin created them to compete with dragons and, instead of channeling from them, channel power into them.” Let’s hope there’s something in that book that isn’t true. “Yeah, let’s not borrow trouble.” Xaden shoots a look sideways at me, then studies the sky.

If there’re four down there…” She shakes her head. “They’re after something, and they’re going to kill every single person in Resson to get it. Take your riot and go home while you can.”

If we fight, we’ll likely die with them. We can live as cowards or die as riders.

She blinks. “You’re a far cry from the trembling girl who stood in the courtyard and tried to mask her fear after Parapet. I approve.” “I wasn’t asking for your approval.” If I’m going to die, I might as well be honest in my last moments.

It’s really too bad I won’t get to see her go through her rebellious adolescent years.

“Go,” I whisper, stroking her beautiful jaw one last time. She’ll be fine. She’ll make it back to the Vale. I can’t let myself believe any differently.

Holy. Shit. Is this what leadership has been redacting?

Raw power is palpable in the air, lifting the hairs on my arms as the venin stands with her palms lowered to the ground. The grass around her turns brown, then the flowers of the wild clover bushes wilt and the leaves curl, losing all their color. “Tairn, is she…” “Channeling,” he growls.

The venin just… “Soleil!” I yell, but it’s already too late. The third-year stumbles a few steps into the dead zone, her dragon reaching for her as they both buckle and fall, Fuil throwing up a cloud of dirt with her heavy impact.

“We lost Soleil,” I tell Xaden.

“The same methods that can kill us,” Tairn

I don’t even have time to scream before he lands in a crouch on the wyvern’s rear and pulls out one of the runed daggers like the two Xaden gave me.

For the first time since we agreed to try to defend the civilians in this trading post, since we were told there were four venin and no way we could win, a little bit of the panic sitting on my chest starts to ease. We might actually be able to survive today. Maybe.

There’s no breath of relief as the collision sends Liam hurtling off Deigh’s back and across the base of Tairn’s neck at breakneck velocity. “Violet!” “Liam!”

“He’s dying!” Liam lunges across Tairn’s back, reaching for his dragon as if so he can touch the Red Daggertail one last time.

The wyvern roars in victory a heartbeat before they crash into the hillside with a sickening thud. The wyvern limps away on its hind legs and the talons that tip its wings. Deigh doesn’t move.

“I’ll get you to him,” I promise, already fumbling with the strap’s buckle. “Deigh’s gone,” I cry to Xaden, my voice a trembling mess. “Liam is dying.”

Deigh lies a couple of dozen feet away, his body folded at an unnatural angle.

“It’s all right, Violet,” he says, looking up at me, and I shove my goggles on top of my head so I can see him clearer. He’s struggling to breathe. “It’s not all right.” I want to scream with the injustice of it, but that won’t help.

“At Parapet—” His face twists in pain. “You have to take care of my sister.”

He has to smile at the sister he’s missed for years and flash that dimple of his. He has to give her the stack of letters he’s written. He deserves it after all he’s been through.

“I’ll take care of Sloane.”

He’s dying and there’s nothing I can do. Nothing anyone can do.

He needs you. Please hear him out.”

“Thank you, Liam. Thank you for being my shadow. Thank you for being my friend.”

I don’t need to ask. Liam is gone.

Liam, who never complained about being my shadow, never hesitated to help, never bragged about being the best of our year. He died protecting me.

and I just asked him if we’d ever really been friends an hour ago.

Just one of those beasts managed to kill my friend; what the hell can...

“And I’m the one who can kill them all.” It will kill me to wield that many times, but I’m the best shot we have. The best shot he has to survive.