Page 59 of Kingmakers, Year Four

“You don’t even know what the challenge is yet,” Leo says.

“It doesn’t matter.” Sabrina shrugs. “I’m nothing if not adaptable.”

I’m not listening to them banter.

I’m looking across the table at Nix, who’s eating her usual enormous breakfast, but without her typical enthusiasm.

Things have been strained between us since our argument outside the annex. She probably thinks I was being a shit friend to Hedeon, and she’s right. I’m not a good friend to him. Or to anyone.

There are no classes today. All students will either be participating in, or watching, theQuartum Bellum. We never know what we’ll be facing until directly beforehand. Strategizing on the spot is part of the difficulty.

By ten o’clock, every student in the school has assembled in the large field outside the castle grounds. Professor Howell waits for us in his usual drill sergeant stance: legs apart, shoulders square, chest out, hands clasped behind his back.

The air is crisp and dry, with a light, teasing breeze.

I’m relieved to see that Professor Penmark is nowhere in sight. The last QB challenge designed by him was one of the most torturous I’ve encountered—fitting, since he is our professor of Torture Techniques.

The absence of any visible apparatus is nerve-wracking. Surprises at Kingmakers are never good.

“Good morning!” Professor Howell bellows. “Would the four Captains please step forward?”

Sabrina Gallo, Kade Petrov, Jacob Weiss, and Leo Gallo all take their place before the professor.

Sabrina looks ridiculously self-possessed next to the three older Captains. Ridiculously glamorous too, even in her gray gym shorts and white socks. She tosses her mane of dark hair back over her shoulders, looking boldly around at the assembled students.

Kade bounces lightly on his toes, running a hand through his thick black hair. Kade has a gentler temperament than Adrik, but I’d never make the mistake of thinking he’s a pushover. Like Leo, his cheerful demeanor hides an inner fire.

Jacob Weiss is still and watchful, examining each of the competing Captains in turn. He gives Leo a nod when they take their place next to each other. They probably met in Chicago.

Leo flashes his bright white grin to the Seniors, a silent signal that he already believes we’re going to win. He knows a good leader never shows anything but full confidence to his troops.

It’s Anna Wilk who looks pale and nervous, watching him. I know she wants the Seniors to win even more badly than Leo does—because she can’t bear to see Leo disappointed.

“The rules for this first challenge will be slightly unusual,” Professor Howell announces.

A ripple of whispers runs across the crowd of students as everyone tries to guess what that might mean.

“Each Captain will select one champion,” Professor Howell says. “Only the champion will compete in the first event.”

Now the mutters are louder and more excited.

“Be aware,” the professor continues. “Whoever you select as champion will not be permitted to compete in any other events of theQuartum Bellum.Also, Captains cannot select themselves.”

Now the mutter is a full-out babble as students begin shouting their suggestions to their Captains.

I can see Leo frowning, wondering who he should choose.

It’s an interesting paradox: you want to pick someone strong enough to win the challenge, whatever it might be. But if you select your strongest competitor, you eliminate them from all subsequent challenges. A choice you might regret in the second and third round.

“Leo Gallo,” Professor Howell says. “You first.”

Leo doesn’t canvas the Seniors to ask their opinion. And he doesn’t hesitate. He looks me dead in the eyes as he declares, “I choose Ares Cirillo.”

My stomach flips over.

Just what I needed: another massive burden on my shoulders.

“Thanks, buddy,” I say.

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