Page 153 of Kingmakers, Year One

Wiping his mouth on the back of his arm, he groans, “They fucking waterboarded us. We had to last two minutes. I know that doesn’t sound like much, but it was?—”

His body convulses and he retches again, this time nothing coming out.

I throw his arm over my shoulder so I can help support him the rest of the way.

“They told us we could stop any time. And we could rest if we wanted. But we had to do two minutes straight . . . to get the piece. I’m sorry . . . it took me so long . . .”

“Sven isn’t back yet,” I say. “Maybe he won’t be able to make it.”

“I almost didn’t,” Ares groans miserably.

He presses the second-to-last puzzle piece into my hand.

“That fucking thing better be real solid gold for what I had to do to get it.”

I help him back to the others, Anna staring in horror at Ares’ sweating, shaking frame.

“What happened to you?” she cries.

“Just . . . the worst afternoon of my life.” Ares laughs weakly.

“Gimme that!” Matteo cries, grabbing Ares’ piece and swiftly slotting it into place. “I needed that one.”

I’m scanning the field in the direction of the river bottom, anxiously waiting for Isabel. She’s our last teammate, and our last puzzle piece. If she can get back here before Sven we might actually do this. We might actually win . . .

Anna is helping Matteo with the puzzle. She aligns the fourth piece, but then there’s a long and agonizing break while they can’t seem to find how the other two fit.

“This should be easy!” Anna cries in frustration.

“Why do they all look the goddamn same and still don’t fit?” Hedeon snarls.

Silas doesn’t attempt to help. He’s glaring moodily across the field at the Seniors, who are likewise working on their puzzle under the fierce observation of Pippa, who’s barking orders I can’t quite hear.

I see motion at the end of the field. My heart swoops up as at long last Isabel pushes her way through the trees. But at the same moment, Sven limps and lurches his way up the road, a lump of gold clutched in his hand.

“Goddamn it,”I mutter.

I don’t have to tell Isabel to run—she’s already sprinting at top speed, quicker than Sven can manage. She’s a mess, hair tangled and muddy, fingernails broken off, hands and arms scratched raw. She thrusts the last puzzle piece into my hands, saying, “God I’m sorry, that fucking Pippa?—”

Matteo and Anna seize the last piece, but it doesn’t elucidate how they’re supposed to finish the puzzle. Whatever they’re building is oddly-shaped, and Matteo removes one of the other pieces that was already in place, not sure it’s in the right location.

Still breathing hard, Isabel says, “We had to get through this fucking mess of snares and tripwires. She was setting them off on me on purpose . . .”

I’m only half listening. On the other side of the field, Sven has added his piece to the pile, and the Seniors are feverishly working to assemble their puzzle. I can’t tell whether they’re further along than we are. All I know is that every second that passes of Matteo turning the uneven golden lumps over in his hands seems torturous and interminable.

We’re so fucking close. If we lose the whole thing because of this goddamned puzzle . . .

“No, that’s wrong,” Anna says, taking the puzzle from Matteo. “It goes this way, I’m sure of it . . .”

Anna manages to slot one more piece into place.

“Wait!” Isabel breathes. She grabs the last piece, twisting and turning the puzzle in her hands like a Rubik’s cube. Two of the pieces rotate, leaving a gap. She slips in the last piece and givesa final twist, the two halves of the puzzle finally coming together in one solid whole.

We stare at the golden skull in her hands.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Hedeon says.

A split-second whirl of images whips through my brain. The Chancellor, the banners, the announcement of theQuartum Bellum. . .

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