Page 65 of The King's Man 3

Just so long as he wakes.

My fingers pinch on a gold fastening, my rapid pulse echoing in it. Tighter, tighter—

I let go, cursing.

I can’t do it.

The room groans at an onslaught of wind. And it doesn’t taste of Quin at all.

An energised shout outside has my stomach flipping. I hurry out to Bastion and his men joyfully welcoming Gappius, back from Pylaios.

I’m giddy as I move towards them. “Did you find—”

A broad smile crosses Bastion’s face, and Gappius lifts a satchel.

I lunge towards him, arms opening, an elated cry rising up my throat, and Bastion leaps in front of him as my arms close.

He snatches me tightly with a laugh.

I have enough magic for a shield to punch him back a few steps; he laughs harder as I slip free and grab the lifesaving sack. The weight is comforting. I hold it close to my chest and peer inside. Not only ignisleaf and dragonfire moss—he’s smuggled in oldeaf, moonbloom, and aetherleaf too.

I leave them in my dust as I race down the road, through the trees, and across the lively bonfire-lit field to the luminarium.Olyn is a swish of robes as she hurries to meet me and takes in my instructions for preparing the herbs.

I grab some ignisleaf and bite into it before I pass her the sack. Bitter juices run into my mouth and I swallow them down, working swiftly to channel its properties for the critical spell.

These are the people who’ve waited, watching others healed while wondering if their turn would ever come. People who’ve endured the acrid scent of sickness and sweat, unbearable pain, relentless itching, unshakable worry—now, at last, they’re being healed.

I can’t move fast enough. It’s taking so long.

I scald my tongue over and over as I hurry to down the teas Olyn’s prepared. I must heal them.

So I can healhim.

Olyn sags onto the emptying central platform, where the glowing tithiscar should have stood on a pedestal. She was the real protection here.

I channel the spell into the last patient, forcing it hurriedly into the young man’s body. “You are an excellent healer, Olyn.”

She watches the light glowing from me into him. “Sometimes I wish I had spiritual meridians.”

I sigh. I understand. Magic has an edge like nothing else.

“But then, if we relied only on vitalians, most people would succumb to their ailments.”

I suppose, in this case, she’s not wrong.

“I’m happy I’m skilled with needles,” she says. “Maybe more can learn this, as a crude skill.” She looks down at her male disguise. “Would also be great ifanyonecould be allowed to learn.”

I snap my hands back from the completed spell. “Trust in your king.”

“I wouldn’t have before. But now . . .”

I glance at her, swallowing. “I’ve got to—”

She rises and stuffs crystallised ginger in my mouth. “Go.”

I detoxify Quin’s blood of miasma poisoning first.

His pulse ticks steadily under mine. The effect of the healing herbs is strong, and his body is using all its energy to process my spells.

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