Page 82 of The King's Man 3

Maybe I won’t be easing Quin’s pain, but I could put my skills to good use. Take care of the soldiers and those who are on the king’s side. There’s bound to be retaliation from the high duke, bound to be bloodshed. I can be by Nicostratus’s side, healing the wounded in this pursuit of justice.

I stare at the verdant foliage in all directions around the pavilion, then at my root-sapped hand, and my chest grows heavy.My meridians will reopen soon.

The sound of hooves clapping over dirt in the distance has me looking up. I stand abruptly and watch as Quin, a few hundred yards off, moves his horse steadily down one of the lanes towards me. As he nears, I notice familiar bundles either side of the horse. The things we left at the last inn; one of them with the sharper outline of my grandfather’s books.

Quin pulls the horse to a stop at a nearby tree and comes off it onto his good leg, cane sliding out of its holder at his back. I’ve seen him do this countless times, but each time lights me with a strange sense of admiration. Despite his pain, despite his limitations, he always does what he wants.

He comes up into the pavilion with a rush of warm air. I suck in a sharp breath, recalling that potent healing spell. The heady, unfurling warmth that bloomed through me. Before he speaks, I step to him with an urgent grip on his cloak. “The healer you used. They must be powerful. A master.”

He freezes under my touch, and I loosen my hold. “Please unlock my meridians. I want to meet that healer. I want to ask about that spell; learn from them.”

Sympathy lurks in his eyes and my sap-covered hand tightens into a ball, nails cutting moons into my palms.

“He hasn’t told you.”

Quin’s words are ice along my spine; I vigorously shake the shivers away. “Sure he told me. I have to wait until I’m recovered. Iamrecovered. No shock.” I open my arms wide. “Unlock me. Please.”

We stand, face to face, in the pavilion surrounded by healing herbs. Quin’s hair and cloak shift in the breeze, but the rest of him is still. His eyes are heavy and dark on mine.

I raise my opened arms and cut the small distance between us by half, so that I have to bend my neck to hold his gaze. “Give me my magic back.”

The heaviness in those dark eyes . . .

I shake my head. “Please.”

“Cael...” His voice cracks, the single word heavy with something deeper than regret.

I turn away, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Fine. If you won’t, I’ll ask Nicostratus—”

He catches me by the shoulders and spins me back, his grip trembling. For a moment, it feels like desperation more than anger, like he’s afraid I’ll slip away entirely. But his voice is a growl. “Stop fooling yourself.”

I stare stubbornly at him.

“You must have felt it,” Quin says, his voice dropping to a whisper. “From the moment you woke.”

I stagger back, my knees threatening to give way under the weight of his words. Tears prickle behind my eyes, and I blink them back.

“Your meridians are gone, Cael. Severed.” His words are quiet, like he’s trying to soften the blow, but they hit harder for it. “There’s nothing left to repair. Not even the kingdom’s greatest healer could bring them back. Not magic. Not immortal bone. Not me.”

I burst into a laugh that goes on and on. It’s bubbling inside of me. It’s hollow. It hurts. “You’re teasing me.” I stop laughing and nod. “Fine. You’ve made your point. I’ll take more care in the future. I won’t throw myself in front of a spear again.”

His grip tightens.

I continue, “There are more lives to save. Unlock me.”

“Stop this,” Quin growls, his nose grazing mine.

“Stop what?”

“You’ll never use magic again!”

It punches my gut but I refuse to reel back. A tear escapes my eye and I let it trail boldly down my cheek.

He watches it. “Nicostratus should have told you.”

“He wanted me to recover.”Before this hurt me again. Deep down, I’d known something was off. I’d ignored it. I’d let myself be lulled by Nicostratus’s words.

And... I’d felt too tired to fight with him for the truth. I shut my eyes.

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