Page 75 of The King's Man 3

The next morning we say our goodbyes and leave the magistrate’s office on foot, hoods pulled low.

Redcloaks are checking everyone at the gates and all throughout the town; we’re stopped at the canal, the soldier frowning at hunched, cane-holding Quin.

The soldier yelps. “You’re the old man on the boat! They came, like you said. The spirits, they came.” He steps closer to us and clasps his hands together. He wants Quin to do his reading. “Please, please.”

My heart races. Every moment we linger draws attention; gives him time to recall my face and put the pieces of that act together.

I keep my head bowed and tug my hood lower over my eyes—

“Assistance!” The call is loud and startling. The redcloak’s attention is swiftly diverted by a figure in crimson cutting the dozen yards between us.

It’s Megaera. Her gaze glides over us and lands firmly on the redcloak. She pulls a badge from her belt and holds it for inspection. “Emblem of the regent,” she says. “Obey.”

The redcloak takes in the badge and immediately prostrates himself.

“The runaway is headed towards the east gate,” she says. “Gather your men.”

With a fleeting glance our way, she and the redcloak depart in a rush. We move swiftly, and I look over my shoulder at their retreating figures.

Megaera seems to be someone who appears and disappears at crucial moments in my life, somehow entangled with me even if I don’t want it. I’m still bitter at what she’s taken from Quin, but... helping her has at least helped us here. It’s something. But how I wish she’d take a page from Maskios and leave my life for good.

The sudden thought of him follows me as we hurry along the riverbank, my boots crunching over loose stones. By the time we reach the waiting boat, memories are clinging to me like the damp air. Something Quin seems to notice as we untie the rope and set forth. “What are you thinking?”

I look over at him and recollect our departure from the capital.Why can’t I be Calix Solin? It’s a mask I’ve worn before.

It’s not your mask to wear.

Slow shivers slink through me, and I have to shake them off. Maskios is gone. He doesn’t mean anything. He would return if he really wanted to.

Quin murmurs, “It seems to have stolen your mind.”

“It hasn’t stolen my mind!” I rush out, swallowing. “I’m just contemplating what comes next.”

Quin watches me for a long moment, unconvinced, but whatever he thinks, he lets it go. “Most of my supporters are in Hinsard. Once I’ve secured witnesses proving my uncle’s schemes to destabilise the kingdom, the city will be key to my return to the capital.”

“Due to the power of Veronica’s family?”

“Her family and their soldiers are among my biggest allies. The redcloak units my brother used to command are also based there, along with others who are loyal.”

I dip my fingers into pulling water and they flex, my gloves momentarily heavy. The rare material wicks off the moisture the moment I pull my hand away from the surface.

“You’re frowning,” Quin says.

“Your uncle sending soldiers from the borders back to Hinsard... aren’t theyhisloyalists? Will there be warring between units? Is he trying to curb the last of your power?”

Quin’s jaw twitches determinedly. “I won’t let that happen.”

We pass through gnarled woods, morning sun turning to afternoon sun, casting golden rays between tree trunks. Mystical, and a little... foreboding. There’s movement beyond. Deer, hopefully. I shiver quietly, and distract myself. “If Hinsard is your stronghold, will many recognise you?”

“Those that do will be sure to respect my alias.”

“What will your alias be?” How many do you have? “Travelling merchant again?”

“I haven’t decided.”

“You could shave your hair off and say you’re on a pilgrimage to all five spiritual sites.”

“Why are you intent on ruining my hair?”

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