Page 123 of Kingmakers, Year One

The last two Seniors try to physically block Ares’s way, but even Seniors are no match for his size. He barrels through them, shouldering them aside with such force that they go flying out of bounds. He sets the bomb right in the corner and yanks out the clip. It erupts like a volcano, belching white paint straight up in the air.

Calvin Caccia stares stupidly at Pippa Portnoy for a moment, as the enormity of his situation washes over him. Only now does he realize why Pippa agreed to send her team out, leaving her end zone unprotected.

Almost all the Juniors are clustered in their own corner, while Pippa’s Seniors have reached their goal. Calvin has twenty men around him, while Pippa has fifty. They run at us like swift, dark shadows, and we let them through. It’s already a foregone conclusion.

The Seniors detonate their bomb, the pitch-black paint securing their place in the finals. Calvin watches it happen, his face contorted in fury.

The Freshmen pour across the pitch, physically hauling Leo up off the ground so he can hobble over to Ares and join in the wild celebrations. Their elation is twice as high as it was in the first challenge. The first win seemed like a fluke—this one is much more real.

They’re slapping each other on the back, Leo wincing anytime he’s touched on his bruised and battered flesh. They’re all laughing and shouting, every one of them.

Except me.

I’m watching, silent and motionless, as Leo and Anna slowly push their way toward each other through the crowd.

They stand there facing each other, the rain pouring down on their heads harder than ever. They look into each other’s faces, Leo covered almost head to toe in red, dripping paint, Anna with only two bright splotches on her body: one on her bicep and one on her hip.

Leo says something, and Anna replies. I’m too far away to hear or even to read their lips.

But I see clearly Leo sweeping Anna up in a hug, his arms wrapped tight around her.

24

ANNA

Every shower in the castle is in use.

Chay and I run down to the Armory, but even there, girls are clustered two or three under a showerhead, trying to scrub the red paint off their skin.

Our flesh is a map of welts, cuts, and bruises. The huge purple lump on my bicep looks like there’s something growing under the skin, ready to burst out. My hip hurts even more. I’m hobbling around like a grandma, wondering if it might be broken.

“Why in the fuck did they use weapons-grade paintballs?” I ask Chay, dousing my head in shampoo and trying to pick out the bits of dried paint in my hair.

“ ‘Cause they like to see us suffer,” Chay says, stripping off her gray pullover that has a sleeve almost torn clean off. “Did you see Erik? He got hit in the mouth and he’s missing two teeth!”

“Leo was a mess.” I shake my head at the memory of his banged-up face.

He had a black eye, a lump on his forehead, a split lip, two gashes on his cheek, and a huge bruise on the side of his neck, tosay nothing of the parts of him covered by clothes. Still, he was grinning when I ran over to him.

“I dunno,” Chay says slyly. “He looked pretty happy to me when he was hugging you.”

I turn my face into the shower spray so I don’t have to look at her.

In the elation of the victory, Leo and I lost all our awkwardness.

I ran right up to him shouting, “That was fucking incredible!” and he said, “I knew you could do it,” and we were both smiling at each other like nothing bad had ever happened, like we were old friends again. And before either of us could say anything to ruin it, he hugged me hard, his body like a furnace compared to the freezing rain.

Then we were swarmed by other students and there was no time for anything else. All Leo could do was shout, “Are you coming to the party tonight?” and I called back, “Yes!” though I don’t know if he heard me.

I actually hadn’t heard about any party, but I knew there was sure to be one. Freshmen haven’t made it to the final round of theQuartum Bellumin twenty years. We all want to celebrate.

“Did Leo tell you what he was planning ahead of time?” Chay asks me.

“He told Ares, then Ares told me, and I told you. It had to look real, him going for the goal. Everybody had to be looking the wrong way, or it’s not a proper diversion.”

“I thought we were fucked still,” Chay scrubs her arms with a loofah. “Wouldn’t have worked if Ares wasn’t such a monster. Who knew he had it in him?”

I say, “He may be a sweetheart, but he isn’t soft.”

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