Page 41 of The King's Man 2

I squint.

The man clutching the cane wears a wooden mask. His shoulders are broad, but his magic shield doesn’t have the right aura...A decoy.

Bait.

Two figures, back-to-back, dominate the centre of the fighting. One has his hood drawn up as he slashes a magic whip through two wyverns with perfectly timed grace. The other favours one leg, gusts swirling around him to keep him balanced. His mask is river-pearl, the mask I gave him.

Synchronously, the brothers leap into the air, shocks of gold and purple magic all around them. Wings explode into rain.

A shield stutters, the protective umbrella crumpling. Wyvern water sprays over half the redcloak formation below.

My stomach balls tightly as men race their comrades toward the palace.

“We’ve got a half-dozen poisoned coming!” I call to Florentius as Veronica flies to the doors and protects the men on their way inside.

Florentius grunts. “I’ve only enough for the children.”

I slam my eyes shut. Think.Think!

Teacups rattle at a thunderous explosion outside. I snap my gaze to the cups, the pots, the jars of tea...

I yank open corked jars and sniff, one after the other.Come on, come on.It has to be here. Veronica always kept some—

Thornwort!

I whimper relief into the jar and ground particles fly into my mouth. The bitterness is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. I race to Florentius.

He cringes at the raw taste but chews, swallows. “Thornwort?”

“It’ll give us time, delay the poison for a few hours.”

“Needling?”

“Yes.”

“That technique is ancient.”

“That technique is all we have right now.”

The infected sag against the wall in a line.

Aklos and aklas murmur, fear in their voices.“So few fighting.”

“What if they fail?”

“Those wyverns will get in.”

“Why can’t the king stop them?”

“Maybe he’s not royal blood at all.”

“He’ll be the death of us all.”

Each murmur twists my stomach. I whirl towards them, squeezing the jar of thornwort. “Quiet.”

They jerk their heads up.

“The king is out there,” I jerk a finger towards the courtyards, “risking his life to protect you.”

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