Page 123 of Kingmakers, Year Two

CAT

Rocco has to die, and I’m the only one who can do it.

It can’t be Zoe or Miles. They’re the obvious suspects.

If they kill Rocco, the Chancellor will find out, or the Princes. Their new life together will be destroyed before it even starts.

In fact, I have to make sure that when Rocco dies, it’s glaringly obvious that Zoe and Miles had nothing to do with it.

Which is why it has to take place during the final challenge of theQuartum Bellum.

Zoe and Miles will be competing in full view of the entire school. No one can accuse them of attacking Rocco.

I, on the other hand, will need a different alibi.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

The first step is to bait the trap.

I start by leaving notes in Rocco’s pockets. This is risky, because it involves sneaking into the Octagon Tower and picking the lock to his room.

Lock-picking is one of the very first things you learn at Kingmakers, at least in the Spy division. We covered it our first week. I’ve gotten quite good at it, as delicate, tricky handwork is something I’ve practiced while making jewelry and paper art.

The more difficult part is dodging all the male Heirs that might wonder why I’ve snuck into their tower. Also, overcoming my creeping disgust at touching anything that belongs to Rocco. His clothes have a sickly-sweet smell that reminds me of rotting fruit.

The notes I leave for Rocco are deliberately vague and tantalizing.

Things like:

I know what you did.

I have evidence.

I’ll expose you.

You’ll have to pay to keep me quiet.

I don’t actually expect Rocco to feel threatened by these notes. Quite the contrary: I think they’ll irritate and enrage him, because he won’t understand them. It will drive him mad not knowing who’s doing it, or why.

He may think I’m referring to the story Claire Turgenev told me: the boy he tortured and murdered at his old boarding school. Or perhaps he’ll connect it to one of the hundred other cruel and disgusting acts that must lurk in his mind like un-exhumed bodies.

It doesn’t matter what he thinks—it only matters that I spark his curiosity.

I leave a dozen notes over three days, hidden in the pockets of his trousers, backpack, and between the pages of his textbooks. Then I stop.

The hiatus is important to throw him off balance. To make him even more paranoid. To ensure that he responds when I leave my final note.

Three days before theQuartum Bellum,I sneak out of the Undercroft late at night. I steal stones from the crumbling Bell Tower on the northwest corner of campus, and I carry them up onto the ramparts. Heavy stones, each one five to ten pounds in weight. I hide them under my shirt and take them up oneby one until my legs are shaking from dozens of trips up and down the stairs.

Then I search the stables. I look through the piles of broken furniture, moldy books, worn-out chalk-brushes, and old filing boxes.

I haven’t been in here since I told Hedeon Gray he should check these boxes for old student records. I pause in my search to examine the boxes myself, wondering if he found what he was looking for.

The files have clearly been rifled through, but I don’t see any student records. I never looked at the papers that closely on Halloween—it might have been a stupid suggestion. Either that, or Hedeon found what he was looking for and took it away.

Resuming my own quest, I find a large canvas sack full of old scuba equipment. I dump out the scuba gear and take the sack.

All I need now is rope.

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