Page 62 of Kingmakers, Year Four

While he’s distracted, I knock his feet out from under him. He loses his grip on the net, sliding all the way back down to the bottom.

Nix has flipped over the top of the net, descending the other side. We come face to face with each other, me going up and her coming down.

“You don’t have to help me,” she tells me.

“I’m not,” I say.

“Good,” she calls over her shoulder, dropping down. “Because Iamgoing to beat you.”

“We’ll see about that,” I mutter, climbing faster.

Tristan has reached the bottom of the net. His bulk makes it sway like a gale-force hurricane. I’m seasick by the time I’m halfway down the opposite side.

August is also climbing again, with a heel-shaped mark in the middle of his forehead and a poisonous expression on his face. He’s only just reaching the top as I drop down from the net and start running.

I jog down a mile of winding trail before encountering the next obstacle.

I pound after Nix, using her as my pace setter, not really trying to pass her. From our previous run, I’ve got a pretty good idea of our relative speeds. If she’s going as hard as she can and I match her, I’ll be close to my redline.

The next challenge is a rig with twelve hanging rings set just far enough apart that you can brachiate from one to the next like a tree-dwelling monkey.

It’s fairly straightforward. Nix and I cross over without too much trouble, me catching each ring directly after she releases it.

When we drop down on the other side, Nix pants at me, “Who builds all this?”

“The grounds crew,” I say. “There’s fifty of them, and they’re mostly here for school security. But they do other shit too—tend the greenhouses and the gardens and all that.”

“Do they ever have to secure anybody?” she asks, jogging off down the path again, following the red markers hung from the trees.

“Yeah,” I say. “Miles Griffin—that’s Leo’s cousin—he got in pretty deep shit the year before last. They hauled him up to the Prison Tower for a week. And Ozzy Duncan . . .” I break off, not really wanting to relive that particular event. “He got in a lot of trouble, too. The Rule of Recompense is a real thing.”

Nix has slowed slightly, listening to me as we run. She frowns.

“Miles Griffin . . .” she says. “I know that name . . .”

I want to swallow my own tongue.

I hadn’t realized that Nix would have heard about the deal Miles cut with her father, handing over his drug pipeline to Dieter Prince and Alvaro Romero in exchange for breaking Zoe’s betrothal to Rocco Prince.

And Nix definitely doesn’t know I was there that night. Miles and I stole the Chancellor’s private speedboat, one of the only ways off this island. We snuck over to Dubrovnik in the dead of night, so Miles could meet with Dieter, Alvaro, and Moroz in person and work his persuasive magic to force them to take the deal.

I warned Miles not to include the Malina. I tried to tell him that Marko Moroz is not a partner you want to have.

But Miles was desperate. He was willing to risk anything to free Zoe from her loathsome engagement to Rocco. So he cut the Malina in on the deal—using their American dollars to launder the bitcoin from the online drug deals.

Little did he know, that’s not Marko’s money.

It’smyfucking money.

And I want it back. Along with everything else the Malina stole from us.

I should have known that Marko shares his business with Nix. Or at least, the parts he wants to tell her about.

“Miles is Caleb Griffin’s older brother,” I say, hoping she won’t make the connection.

“Hm,” she says, her brows still knit together.

“Anyway, quit trying to distract me,” I pant, putting on another burst of speed. “I can’t talk and run at the same time.”

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