Page 33 of The King's Man 2

How could his death have been prevented?

Before I’m ready, Chiron is back and ordering aklos to return the body to the ice cellars. The hour has passed. “Wait. There are more tests—”

“You’ve had time.”

“Can I have his clothes at least?”

Begrudgingly, Chiron leaves me with the victim’s clothing and backstory, and seals the archway.

I call up a spell, just for the common cold, to test on the barrier. The archway lights up crimson as it absorbs the spell and I try ramming through it, shoulder first.

I massage my aching arm, shaking my head. It’s like an invisible wall.Quin!

So creative. I swat the barrier. Wait till I get out.

But by that time who knows what would’ve happened in the royal city? Tomorrow, the high duke might prevail over the king.

My stomach drops; in a panic, I throw a complex-medius spell at the barrier and try pounding my way through it again. Eventually I’m forced to retreat, defeated, to the desk. My body aches, mind spinning.

Nicostratus will be there. He can fight. He will protect his brother.

The masks should help hide the identities of their military supporters. Save them when Quin’s uncle fails.

Ifhis uncle fails.

I rub at the tightness in my chest and breathe in deeply. If,ifQuin and Nicostratus get hurt, Chiron and the other gold-sash mages will help them. They’re the best in the kingdom, and they’ll be at the gala.

I close my eyes on the now-empty table in front of me.Focus on figuring this out. The lemon was only an excuse. Quin sent me here to challenge me.

A scuffing outside the archway has me jerking my head up. I eye the red-haired boy standing outside and the meats and pickled vegetables on the plate he carries. “You’re bringing me breakfast?”

“Isn’t it lovely?” He sets the plate on the floor and pushes it through the barrier. “Shall I pass on your thanks?”

I blink at the plate and a smile tugs at my lips. Only one person would use someone else to sneak me some food. With an amused tut-tut-tutting I pick up the plate and pop a slice of meat into my mouth.

After hours spent crafting spells for every imaginable skin ailment, I slump on a stool, scowling at the scribbled chaos of my notes and ideas. A sharp, enthusiastic throat-clearing pulls me from my thoughts. I glance up to see Makarios and Mikros standing at the archway.

I eye the two. Smart and Smarter might also have been good names for them. In fact, if I can use their knowledge to my advantage, I might solve this in half the time.

Maybe in time to be at the gala.

I give them a rundown of the case. “Here’s what’s curious. The wife states they were both healthy when they left home. When their carriage broke down, they were forced to continue their journey on foot and spent four nights in the woods. They camped under the same trees, washed in the same rivers, ate the same meals: roasted fish, wild mushroom soup.”

“You suspect something poisoned him?”

I hum. “Except the wife is fine.” I scan over her statement. “She said she even ate more of the fish. Her husband took the first bite, and she punished him for it by eating the rest in front of him.”

“You checked the stomach? She could be lying.”

“I thought that, but there was nothing worrisome about the bile. The problem seems to stem from the blood.”

Makarios and Mikros perk up. “Lacerations of the skin?”

“None I could discern under the scales. Or anywhere else on the body.”

“Could it be she was also exposed but is naturally warded?”

“Their blood is compatible. Her body should behave similarly.”

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