Page 6 of The King's Man 1

“No,” she says serenely. “You’reextremelypretty.”

I murmur, “Why don’t I have trouble with unwanted attention?”

She tosses down the answer without hesitation. “You scare all the girls off by ‘testing’ spells on me in front of them. They’re afraid of their own faces coming to ruin.”

I frown. “I haven’t noticed any girls.”

I glance back at Calix and the aklo riding with him, noting their leathers and the curved sticks they carry.

“You play drakopagon?” I ask. “Are you any good?”

Calix lets out a scoff.

“Veronica is forever urging me to practice. Come forward a few steps?”

His jaw tightens. “Why?”

“Three steps should do it. I can drop in front of you or behind. Take your pick.”

With a muttered curse, Calix moves his horse and taps my rump with the curved end of his drakopala.

He glances at his aklo and sighs. “Give him your horse. Go back.”

I drop into the saddle, syrup-sticky hands gripping the reins. Calix casts me a long, wary glance—like he still isn’t sure why he’s doing this and dare not imagine what will happen next.

I wiggle my fingers. “Syrup’s a bit sticky.”

He flicks a lazy finger. Magic swirls, cleansing and efficient.

I sigh. “What a waste.” I lift a knuckle to my mouth. “Should’ve been licked clean.”

Calix slams his eyes shut and spurs his horse forward.

When we arrive at the drakopagon pitch, a half-dozen young men are riding hard, tossing a tied-up bundle toward a hoop at one end. They’re laughing, whooping.

But over the din, a sound pierces through.

Meowling.

Calix and I frown, searching for the source.

Our gazes land on the bundle.

My heart drops.

I urge my horse over the low fence and canter toward them.

“Give me that cat.”

“Get off the pitch,” one growls. “It’s ours.”

“You’re torturing it.”

“No one wants to drop it. It adds stakes to the game. Better for practice.”

“How’dyoulike to be tied up and thrown around for fun?”

Calix rides up beside me. “Release the cat. At once.”

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