The rebel

3

Cat

I leave for Kingmakers on the first of September.

I kept praying that something would happen to prevent me from going. My main hope was that I simply wouldn’t be accepted, applying so late in the year.

Then a heavy gray envelope arrived in the mail, sealed with wax the color of dried blood, stamped with the crest of the school: a crowned skull. The handwritten address bore my full legal name, Catalina Resmella Romero, in script that looked a hundred years old.

I already knew what it would say before I opened it—or at least, I thought I did.

Catalina Romero,

I am writing to inform you that you have been accepted to Kingmakers Academy. Having reviewed your application and assessed your qualifications, we have assigned you to the Spy division.

School will commence on the 3rd of September. You will depart from the pier in Dubrovnik at 10:00 in the morning on September 2nd.

Admission to our campus is singular and irrevocable. If you decide to leave for any reason, you will not be permitted to return. Be sure to bring all items you will require for the duration of your program.

Enclosed is a list of our rules and regulations. Sign and return your acknowledgment of the contract, including your willingness to abide by our arbitration and punishment system. Your parents’ signature and imprint are likewise required.

We look forward to meeting you. You will be joining an elite institution with a long and storied history. Perhaps someday your name will be inscribed on the wall of Dominus Scelestos.

Your sister distinguished herself in the Quartum Bellum in her Freshman year. I hope to see you do the same when this year’s challenge convenes.

Sincerely,

Luther Hugo

Necessitas Non Habet Legem—Necessity Has No Law

I recognized the envelope from Zoe’s identical missive the year prior. From its thickness, I assumed that I had been accepted, and that it would include the draconian list of school rules and the irrevocable contract on which my father and I would both have to press our bloody fingerprints, agreeing that Kingmakers has the right to discipline or even execute me if I transgress its laws.

I knew all of that ahead of time.

What I didn’t expect was to be put in with the Spies.

Kingmakers has four divisions: the Heirs, who are trained to lead their families as a general leads an army. The Enforcers, who are the soldiers. The Accountants, who handle the finance and investment arms of the business. And then the Spies.

The Spies are the least-numerous and most obscure division. Their job is to surveil and analyze enemy groups—both law enforcement and rival criminals. They predict threats against the family and sometimes liaise with the enemy. And most of all, they ferret out threats from within their own ranks.

I can’t imagine a job less suited to me.

Spies have to be bold and cu

I’m terrified of my own shadow. I cry if someone looks at me sideways. I have no skills at all, other than painting and drawing, and I’m pretty good with computers. I’ve never been in a fight, and I’ve never fired a gun in my life.

As a Spy, there’s no one to protect you. One wrong step, and you’ll be tortured and killed.

I feel like a crab ripped out of its shell.

Worst of all, Zoe and I couldn’t even travel to Dubrovnik together. The Freshmen start a week later than everybody else, so she’s already on campus, while I have to board the imposing ship all on my own, amid the throng of students from all across the globe.

I hear a virtual Babel of languages on the dock, though we all have to speak English once we arrive, as it’s the lingua franca of Kingmakers.

I try to find the most distant, unobtrusive corner of the ship so I can stay out of the way of the surly-looking sailors, observing my fellow students from a distance.

Everyone looks so much cooler and more confident than me. Plenty of them already seem to know each other, maybe because they’re from the same country, or because they’ve crossed paths with each other before.

I don’t recognize a single face. Until a merry girl with blonde curls taps me on the shoulder and says, “Cat? Is that you?”

“Yes?” I say hesitantly.

“I thought so! It’s me, Perry!”

“Perry?” I say blankly. And then, “Oh, Perry! Oh my god, you look so . . . so . . . different!”

She laughs. “I got into swimming and lost a lot of weight.”

I would never have known her as the same girl I met three summers ago at a resort in Monaco. I was there with my family and Perry with hers. Our fathers seemed friendly. I’m sure they had the same purpose in “vacationing” that week, though I never heard what it was.

It’s not only the weight that changed Perry—she looked like a kid when we built sandcastles on the private beach in front of our hotel. Now she’s confident and stylish, dressed in a jaunty beret and jacket that perfectly compliment her school uniform.

I feel childish by comparison, with my thick knee socks, flat oxfords, and too-long skirt. I notice that the rest of the girls had their green plaid skirts tailored to hit mid-thigh, which is vastly more flattering. I flush, thinking of all the unspoken rules that other people seem to intuit, which sail right over my head.

“I didn’t know you were coming to Kingmakers!” Perry says.

“It was sort of a last-minute decision.”

“What division are you?”

“Spy,” I say, with a nervous grit of my teeth.

“Ohh,” Perry says, eyebrows raised. “Good for you! I’m an Accountant.”

“I don’t know why they put me there,” I admit. “Maybe it was a mistake . . .”

“I don’t think they make mistakes,” Perry says. “You didn’t request it?”

“No.” I shake my head. “Definitely not. I expected to be an Accountant, too.”

“I wonder what happened?” Perry says curiously.

I hadn’t really pondered on it, since it seemed like just one more nasty surprise to pile on the shit heap.

“Well . . .” I say hesitantly. “I do know a bit about programming . . .”

In secondary school, I had a computer sciences teacher who was simply brilliant. She sparked my interest in all things technological. She told me I should go into programming, but I like art so much that I chose graphic design instead. Not that it mattered in the end, since I won’t be studying either.

“That could be it.” Perry shrugs. “There’s a lot of security system analysis in the Spy division. Some hacking, too. Or at least, that’s what my cousin told me.”

“I wish I was in your division,” I say wistfully.

“Me too,” Perry says. “We could have roomed together.”

My stomach sinks down further than ever. I’m going to be sharing a room with a stranger. Taking classes with strangers. Zoe and I will both be at Kingmakers, but who knows how much we’ll see each other. I feel so alone and so intimidated.

I don’t know how Zoe navigated all this on her own last year. She’s always been braver than me.

At least she told me where to board the ship and what the island is like. She went into all that blind. We don’t have any close friends who attended Kingmakers before us—just a few asshole cousins that we avoid at all costs.

I’m theoretically prepared as I cross the wide, empty expanse of ocean leading to distant Visine Dvorca. Zoe even forewarned me that the water will get choppy and rough as we draw close, so I feel the change in the pitching of the ship long before I see the limestone cliffs jutting up out of the waves.