Page 61 of Kingmakers, Year Four

I take my place at the starting line, right next to Nix.

She’s pulling her insane curls back into a ponytail so thick that she can barely get her hand around it. The elastic band does its best, but snaps after one twist.

“Goddamnit!” Nix curses.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got one,” Sabrina says, taking the band off her wrist and passing it over to Nix.

Nix successfully completes the ponytail, though the elastic is straining like a waistband at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

She sees me staring.

“Just . . . zip it,” she tells me. “I’m not in control of this hair.”

I can’t help laughing. “Have you ever tried cutting it?” I say.

“Yes.” Nix scowls. “It broke the scissors.”

I can’t tell if she’s joking.

“Ready . . .” Professor Howell says, raising his starter pistol.

Nix, Tristan, August, and I all drop to a half-crouch, looking straight ahead through the trees.

I can’t see the obstacles. I have no idea what we’ll be facing.

The pistol fires with an echoing boom that sends several birds rocketing up out of the treetops.

My legs are churning before I even register that we’ve started.

I dash across the pine needles and soft, springy earth, following once more the bright red banner of Nix’s hair. I can see Tristan on my left, and August ahead of all of us, but it’s only Nix I’m following, like we’re the only two people in the woods.

August is faster than all of us, Tristan the slowest. That means little in the first leg of an eight-mile race. August constantly plays soccer with the other Narco kids, and if this were a simple sprint, he’d surely win. His stamina is a different question.

Tristan Turgenev is in for the long haul. I can hear him puffing along behind me, steady as a freight train.

I feel intensely focused. When I have to wait and worry, my mind runs in circles. But when it’s time to act, I know what to do—at least, when it comes to physical tasks.

I see the first obstacle ahead of us: a thirty-foot fishing net strung up on a frame. We’ll have to climb up one side and down the other.

August reaches the net first, leaping up and beginning to scale the front side. Nix follows hot on his heels. August climbs steadily at first, but as soon as Nix begins her ascent, the net undulates like a wave.

“Watch it!” August shouts down at her.

“I’m not making it shake on purpose!” Nix calls back up.

When I start climbing, the net jerks so hard that August loses his grip and drops five or six feet before he can scramble for purchase. His face is red and irritated but Nix doesn’t give a fuck, she passes right by him, climbing hand over hand as fast as she can. Furious, August grabs her heel and tries to yank her down, half pulling off her shoe.

“No interference!” I shout at August.

“He said no interference from thespectators,” August spits back at me.

“I don’t give a fuck,” I snarl. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

Ignoring me, August grabs for Nix again.

Nix retaliates by kicking back with her heel, hitting August square in the forehead.

“You fuckingbitch!” he howls up at her.

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