Page 123 of Kingmakers, Year Four

I sigh. “Alright. Leo and Hedeon are coming—meet them inside, at the door by the tapestry.” I give Kade the Chancellor’s keyring. “In fact, wait for me inside the staircase so nobody sees you.” I swallow hard. “I’ve got to go get Nix.”

The walk across the dark lawn to the Solar seems to take forever. My stomach is twisted up in so many knots it might as well be macrame. I’m sick with guilt, so fucking sick I could choke on it.

The sight of Nix already waiting for me at the base of the Solar is like a slap to the face.

She looks so hopeful as she turns those clear green eyes on me. She smiles up at me, saying, “So what are we doing?”

My throat is too tight to even swallow.

I say, “I’ll show you. Come on.”

She walks along beside me, trusting as a lamb.

I’m really fucking hoping she’ll come along quietly. I don’t want to have to physically subdue her.

I already feel like I’m going to vomit.

“Are you okay?” Nix asks me, her coppery eyebrows drawing together. “You look . . . stressed . . .”

“I’m fine,” I mutter.

“What’s in the backpack?”

“Just . . . come on,” I say.

We’re coming up to the Keep. I need to get Nix inside, to the stone staircase that leads down to the Chancellor’s boat.

Tipped off by my tension, Nix is starting to become less amenable to this “surprise” excursion.

“What exactly are we doing?” she presses.

“I’ll show you, it’s right in here,” I say, holding open the door of the Keep so she can pass inside.

Nix is still following me, but slower now, as we approach the small, recessed door that leads down below the school.

This is not an area that students visit. Only Luther Hugo has the key to this door. Or, I should say, only Kade has it now.

“Ares,” Nix says, standing in place and refusing to go any further. “You’re kind of freaking me out.”

“Come on,” I say. “It’s right through here.”

“What is?” Nix demands. “Tell me what we’re doing, because you look weird.”

“I can’t,” I say.

I don’t want to tell her any more lies.

Nix narrows her eyes at me. Something in my face, something in the way I’m standing seems to tip her over the edge from wary to frightened. She tenses up, then takes one swift step, trying to run away from me.

Too late.

I grab her by the arm, yanking her back, wrapping my arm around her throat, clamping my other hand over her mouth.

I didn’t want to have to do it this way.

I didn’t want to do it at all.

But I have no choice.

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