Page 31 of The King's Man 3
Their leader raises a hand, stopping them. He steps forward and his shadow looms over me. “You want our captive.” His eyes narrow and his voice is a warning growl.
I force myself not to flinch and stare right back into his grey eyes. “Bring him here.”
His jaw twitches.
He takes in his poor sister.
“Also five teapots of boiling water, a grinder, and my medicinal box.”
He laughs, the sound ringing ominously in the confined space. “You’re quite bossy. Not afraid of us at all.”
I speak carefully. “I am afraid. But lives are at stake.”
He sweeps his gaze over me, deliberating. A tense moment, and he orders men to bring what I asked for.
The box, grinder, and water arrive first; I bow over them to prepare the teas I need to complete the intricate spell.
A few minutes later, Quin is shoved into the room, bound hand and foot. His knees thud against the floor and his loosened hair curtains his face. He slowly lifts a stubborn chin and freezes. Wild anger surges out of him, blasting through the room. And it’s aimed atme.
“What in the Arcane Sovereign’s name are you doing here?”
Unbelievable. If anyone should be upset—“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe rescuing the fool who left me behind!”
Heads swing from Quin to me and back again.
Quin glances at the vespertines in turn and smiles grimly. “We’rebothin trouble now.”
All the curses I’ve hurled at him in my head the last day are pushing at my lips to come out. “Youabandonedme.”
“Not very well.”
I knock back a tea without taking my eyes off him. “Sit there, and let me save you.”
Quin sinks stiffly onto his haunches.
He measures the men in the room and the lengths of their whips, and lingers on me, pouring more tea from the pot. “This is saving me?”
“Are you seriously critiquingthe wayI’m saving you?”
“Why not pay the bounty? I gave you enough money.”
I scald my tongue and try to hide behind all my pots. Quin’s eyes find mine.
Gah. “That was my first plan, but...” Between bitter gulps, I fill him in.
The vespertine leader doesn’t care about my incident with the high duke’s spy—he starts tapping his foot, gruffly telling me to get on with it.
“I need an assistant.”
He volunteers. I shake my head and point. “Him. He currently has no magic,” I say. “I’m par-linea, I can’t unseal him. Unless you think he’ll beat three of you with his bare hands?”
“Don’t underestimate me,” Quin mutters.
“Not helping,” I mutter back.
The leader peers down his nose at Quin. “Without magic, I could take down a dozen of him. Untie him.”
When the ropes loosen, Quin shakes them free and masks his pain as he stands.
