Page 44 of Kingmakers, Year Two

The silence is thick, as most of us want to say something to Hedeon, but don’t know what. His expression seems to indicate that he’ll bite the head off the first person who tries.

To my shock, it’s Cat who pipes up.

“My roommate beat the shit out of me in Combat class again. But I almost think it’s cathartic for us. Really seems to ease the tension in our room afterward.”

Chay can’t help laughing. “What the hell? Who would want to beat you up?”

“Rakel really seems to enjoy it,” Cat says, mystified. “I am learning how to get my hands up. And I knocked her over once today, so that’s progress.”

Sure enough, Cat’s sporting a fresh fat lip to go along with the bruise under her eye from a previous sparring session. It only highlights the innocence of her big, round eyes and her delicate face.

Hedeon looks at her with a bemused expression. He’s still radiating anger, but at a less radioactive degree. More asbestos than Chernobyl.

The tension broken, Miles and Ozzy return to their conversation.

“It doesn’t do any good to stay right below the ten-thousand-dollar mark for deposits,” Ozzy is saying. “They’ve got algorithms to track that. You put in ninety-four hundred every three days, and they’re still gonna pop you. You gotta write your own algorithm to keep it truly random.”

“Can you do that?” Cat asks eagerly.

“Sure,” Ozzy says, surprised that she’s taking an interest. “Easily.”

“Cat’s got a knack for computers,” I tell Ozzy.

“Ozzy’s a fucking genius on a keyboard,” Miles says. “Cat couldn’t learn from anybody better.”

Once again I find our eyes locking, and it feels like so much more intention is flowing between us than the simple words of that sentence.

“Nice outfit, by the way,” Miles says, that slow, lazy grin quirking up the right side of his mouth, showing white teeth against his tan skin.

“Thanks,” I say, blushing a little. I’ve got on Matteo’s trousers and a pair of suspenders borrowed from Chay, over a white dress shirt, with a pair of flat brown oxfords. I look like a newsie, but Miles seems to genuinely like it. He’s a sharp dresser himself, always combining unusual pairings of the uniform pieces with his extensive collection of space-age sneakers.

It’s the simplest of compliments. Yet I feel warm all the way down to my toes, and not just from the sunshine.

Ares checks his watch. “I was gonna go finish that paper on Organizational Structure before next period. You want to come, Zoe?”

He knows I’m always down for a trip to the library. It’s probably my favorite place in all of Kingmakers. I like to go there just to breathe the scent of all that ancient paper and ink.

“Sure.” I scoop up my bookbag.

I raise my hand in a wave, planning to say goodbye to Miles and everybody else. But Miles isn’t looking at me anymore—he’s staring at Ares with a wholly unexpected expression. Scowling like Hedeon when Silas is mentioned. He looks like Ares just stole his blueberry muffin.

I blink, and the bizarre moment passes. Miles turns his gaze on his expensive sneakers instead.

When I say, “See you later,” he responds with a quick jerk of his head.

Ares and I head west along the wall, toward the pointing finger of the Library Tower.

Ares has a calming presence. He’s one of those people you can sit with in silence without ever feeling uncomfortable. When I do speak to him, he always answers with a smile. Still, I sometimes get the feeling he’s not actually very happy.

“How are you doing?” he asks me gently.

Cat is the only person I spoke to about what happened on the wall. I’m guessing Miles told Leo, and Leo told Ares. That, or Ares is just perceptive. Quiet people see a lot. And it’s not that subtle that I’m all kinds of fucked up.

My automatic impulse is to say, “I’m fine,” like I always do.

But there’s a strange thing about making friends. It doesn’t feel good to lie to them.

I’ve always kept my feelings locked away. Bit by bit, Anna, Chay, Leo, and Miles are bringing me back to honesty. I’ve even been more open with Cat.

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