Fourth Wing (The Empyrean, #1)

by Rebecca Yarros

“It was also the only province to attempt secession six hundred and twenty-seven years later, which would have eventually left our kingdom defenseless had they been successful.”

“The kingdom of Poromiel mainly consists of arable plains and marshlands and is known for exceptional textiles, endless fields of grain, and unique crystalline gems capable of amplifying minor magics.”

“In contrast, Navarre’s mountainous regions offer an abundance in ore, hardy timber from our eastern provinces, and limitless deer and elk.”

“The Trade Agreement of Resson, signed more than two hundred years ago, ensures the exchange of meat and lumber from Navarre for the cloth and agriculture within Poromiel four times a year at the Athebyne outpost on the border of Krovla and Tyrrendor.”

“Tyrrendor encompasses the southwest of the Continent,”

“Made up of hostile, mountainous terrain and bordered by the Emerald Sea to the west and the Arctile Ocean to the south, Tyrrendor is nearly impenetrable. Though separated geographically by the Cliffs of Dralor, a natural protective barrier—”

I will not die today.

There’s a reason strength is revered among riders. A squad, a section, a wing is only as effective as its weakest link, and if that link breaks, it puts everyone in danger.

“It is unlawful for a rider to cause another harm. While in a quadrant formation or in the supervisory. Presence of a superior-ranking cadet,” I recite from the Codex, my heartbeat still in my throat. “As it will diminish the efficacy of the wing. And given the crowd behind us, I think it’s clear to argue that it’s a formation. Article Three, Section—”

I take a step, and it threatens to give out on me. I need to bind it before anyone notices.

Have you seen the people around here? I swear I just saw a second-year with pink streaks in her hair, and one guy has dragon scales tattooed up his entire biceps.”

My knee screams, pain radiating up to my hip and down to my foot, and I limp, my weight falling into Rhiannon’s side.

the beard that cuts across his jaw is new, and he’s filled out in a way that makes me blink…or maybe that’s just my vision going hazy at the edges. The beautiful, easygoing smile that’s starred in way too many of my fantasies is far from the scowl that purses his mouth, and everything about him seems a little…harder, but it works for him.

Dain Aetos went from attractive and cute to gorgeous.

“I’m Rhiannon. I’m Violet’s…friend.”

Dain, whose father is one of my mother’s most trusted advisers. Dain, who held me together when Mira left for the Riders Quadrant and again when Brennan died.

“I’m Dain Aetos, and I’m the leader for Second Squad, Flame Section, Second Wing.”

Both positions are held by elite third-years. Second-years can rise to squad leaders, but only if they’re exceptional.

“Don’t worry—if someone sees us, I’ll just say that I was overcome with lust at first sight and couldn’t wait another second to get you out of your pants.”

The tension that’s been in my chest for the last week—hell, the last six months—eases, and for a second, it’s just us. “I’ve missed you.” Maybe it’s exposing a weakness, but I don’t care. Dain knows almost everything there is to know about me anyway.

I stand and tug my leathers back up over my ass and button them. “All covered.”

“Oh,” I toss over my shoulder as we walk into the hallway, “I can do quite a few things with my tongue. You’d be impressed.”

“it’s out of my hands. I can’t protect you here. Not fully.” “I’m not asking you to!” Wait…didn’t I want him to? Wasn’t that what Mira suggested?

“Three hundred and one of you have survived the parapet to become cadets today,”

“I’ve heard this position is just a stepping stone for him,” Tara whispers. “He wants Sorrengail’s job, then General Melgren’s.”

“Melgren’s dragon gives him the signet ability to see a battle’s outcome before it happens. There’s no beating that, and you can’t be assassinated if you know it’s coming.”

Every cadet in this courtyard thinks they have what it takes to be one of the elite, the very best Navarre has to offer…a dragon rider.

If I have to get involved…” A slow, sinister smile spreads across his face. “You don’t want me involved.

“I’m Nyra, the senior wingleader of the quadrant and the head of the First Wing.

“Sections and squads,” I whisper to Rhiannon, in case she didn’t grow up in a military family. “Three squads in each section and three sections in each of the four wings.” “Thank you,” Rhiannon answers. Dain stands in the section for Second Wing, facing me but averting his eyes.

Jack is called into the Flame Section of First Wing. Tara is called into the Tail Section, and soon they start on Second Wing.

quick glance tells me that we have a squad leader—Dain, who isn’t looking at me—a female executive squad leader, four riders who look like they might be second- or third-years, and nine first-years.

One of the riders with two stars on her uniform and half-shaved, half-pink hair has a rebellion relic that winds around her forearm, from her wrist to above her elbow, where it disappears under her uniform, but I look away so she won’t catch me staring.

“Dain Aetos, you and your squad will switch with Aura Beinhaven’s,”

“Take a look at your squad. These are the only people guaranteed by Codex not to kill you. But just because they can’t end your life doesn’t mean others won’t. You want a dragon? Earn one.”

If they didn’t need us puny humans to develop signet abilities from bonding and weave the protective wards they power

sure they’d eat us all and be done. But they like protecting the Vale—the valley behind Basgiath the dragons call home—from merciless gryphons

“To them, you’re just the prey.”

“We commend their souls to Malek.” The god of death.

Gauntlet—the terrifying vertical obstacle course they told us we’ll have to master when the leaves turn colors in two months.

“Better than being dead,” the smart-ass says as he passes us on the right, his dark-brown hair flopping against the brown skin of his forehead with every step the shorter cadet takes. His name is Ridoc, if I remember correctly from the brief introductions we went through before dinner last night.

“Sgaeyl is a Blue Daggertail, and she’s…vicious.”

Every rider can do lesser magic once their dragon begins channeling power to them, but the signet is the unique ability that stands out, the strongest skill that results from each unique bond between dragon and rider. Some riders have the same signets. Fire wielding, ice wielding, and water wielding are just a few of the most common signet powers, all useful in battle.

Signet Description

“I can read a person’s recent memories,” Dain admits quietly. “Not like an inntinnsic reads minds or anything—I have to put my hands on the person, so I’m not a security risk. But my signet’s not common knowledge. I think they’ll use me in intelligence.”

“I’m still learning, and of course I’m better at it the closer I am to Cath, but yeah. I just put my hands on someone’s temples, and I can see what they saw. It’s…incredible.”

But a year doesn’t change that I still think of you as my best friend. I’m still Dain, and this time next year, you will still be Violet. We will still be us.”

“Without cause and calling a quorum of wingleaders because you’re a squad leader. Article Four, Section Three.”

expected you to do a better job of hiding where your affections lie, Aetos.” Xaden moves, walking down the steps. Shit. Shit. Shit. “Run, Violet,” Dain orders me. “Now.” I bolt.

Knowing I am in direct disagreement with General Melgren’s orders, I am officially objecting to the plan set forth in today’s briefing. It is not this general’s opinion that the children of the rebellion’s leaders should be forced to witness their parents’ executions. No child should watch their parent put to death. —The Tyrrish Rebellion, an official brief for King Tauri by General Lilith Sorrengail

This is the only class held in the circular, tiered room that curves the entire end of the academic hall and one of only two rooms in the citadel capable of fitting every cadet.