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Sebastian tried to burn my father alive.
I look up at the banner directly over my head, with its deep red flame. If I were going to have a sigil, that would be mine.
The Gallos tried to destroy us with fire, but I became that fire instead. It burns inside of me, and will never go out.
The chatter in the hall dies down as an unseen figure enters the room. The students crane in their seats, wanting to get the first look at the man who strides in front of the hearth.
He’s a little taller than average, powerfully built. His soot-dark hair hangs down to his shoulders, longer than his close-cropped beard. Threads of silver twine like wire through the black. His face is craggy and ravaged, much older than his body. His eyebrows are pointed at the outer corners, and his eyes peer out from under, glittering like two gems set in his ruined face.
When he speaks his voice booms out, silencing the last whispers between students staring at him with awed faces.
“Welcome to Kingmakers. I hope by now you’ve all settled in. I don’t think I need to go over the rules of this place—you read and signed them before you came. I don’t think, either, I need to remind you that the reputations of your families rest on your performance here, or that your destiny may well be shaped by what you learn within these walls. You are all adults, if only newly so.”
He glares out over the crowd of students who look less like adults than ever before, in comparison to this man who appears as if he’s lived a dozen lifetimes.
“My name is Luther Hugo. I’m the Chancellor of this school…the last and final authority of all that goes on within these walls. My ancestor was Barnabus Hugo. He hung the very first banner in this hall.”
Hugo points to the coat of arms depicting the golden skull.
“Of those first ten families, only seven now remain. Never forget that your survival is not secure. You could be the generation that squanders the legacy of your family. You could be the fool who terminates a line stretching back hundreds of years.”
This isn’t exactly the rousing speech the students were hoping to hear. Even Bram seems slightly unnerved. I doubt I’m as surprised as the others, since my family only just survived such an extinction event.
“Over the next several weeks, we will be evaluating your performance in your classes.” Hugo stares us down in turn with those black flinty eyes. “Each year of students will cast a vote for their Captain. The first challenge of theQuartum Bellumwill take place the first week of November. That is all.”
Abruptly, Hugo strides back the way he came, right hand tucked into the pocket of his formal double-breasted suit.
The students sit in silence for a moment, then break into excited chatter.
“I want my picture in that hall,” Bram fiercely proclaims.
I don’t respond, because I don’t think there’s a chance in hell of Bram getting the student vote, let alone the endorsement of the professors.
But I could.
9
ANNA
I’m settling into Kingmakers.
The most challenging part was finding somewhere I could practice dancing without unwanted interruptions. I tried several different places, including a disused classroom and the old wine cellar next to the dining hall.
In the end, I settled on the abandoned cathedral on the far west side of campus. It’s farther to walk than the other options, but no one comes in to disturb me.
Maybe at the time Kingmakers was built, our ancestral families still held some sort of religious sentiment. But it’s been so long since the island had a chaplain that the cathedral has fallen into disrepair. Weeds grow up through cracks in the floor, and an entire pomegranate tree has sprouted in the middle of the chancel.
Some of the stained-glass windows have been broken by wind or birds, but most are still intact. Colored light speckles the floor. I hear the cooing of doves nesting up in the clerestory.
Dancing is the closest I get to a spiritual experience, so it seems fitting to practice here, in the cool, airy silence. It’s farenough away from everything else that I can play my music night or day without disturbing anyone.
The other minor annoyance is that I don’t particularly like my roommate. There are only two other female Heirs in my year—Zoe Romero and Chay Wagner.
Zoe is Galician. She’s tall, dark-haired, serious, and studious. I think we could have gotten along very nicely by sitting silently on opposite sides of our room doing our homework.
Unfortunately, Zoe got the one private room on our floor, which may be the size of a cupboard, but at least belongs to her alone.
I have to share my nice big room with Chay Wagner, the Heir of the Berlin-based Night Wolves.
