Page 23 of The King’s Man #5

A small flame bursts to life and she looks over it at me.

Her hand snaps out and flicks something off my shoulder.

I follow the soft thud to a venomous blue-backed spider scurrying away.

Megaera moves calmly past a larger web of nesting blue-backs and I follow, reminded that she’s always been adept at handling poisons, not only in the cheeky way she uses them on Lykos, but earlier.

When she was betrothed to me. When she studied them in her pursuit to save her father.

“He has symptoms of magentapuff poisoning,” I murmur.

“Mmm. His nails were turning green.”

“You’ve used magentapuff before?”

She shakes her head. “Only read about it. It’s rare, and dangerous. We can’t touch its petals or breathe in its puff. ”

“The antidote is in its nectar.”

She nods with a grimace. We’ll have to get close.

“That’s not the only hard part,” I murmur.

“You’re expecting silversnakes.”

I’m impressed. “How do you know?”

She opens the string on the pouch carrying knockout powder and pinches some. “There are two behind you.”

She tosses a small cloud at my heels and I swivel to see two raised and ready-to-strike snake heads flop to the ground.

A shrill cry echoes around the cave walls, the source sounding close.

I pinch some knockout powder and use it through a nest of silversnakes to get round a darker, moister corner of the cave.

There, groaning against a slick mud wall, is a young man in an orange cloak; his leader crouches over him, training magic into his veins.

I spy the snake bite and the swelling and inhale the sharp tang of the spell.

I rush forward, grabbing one set of our waxy leaves.

“You need serpentiswort. It’ll keep the venom from spreading. ”

Sweating under the intensity of his spell, he grunts.

I rip at the young man’s leggings, exposing the severity of the wound. It’s already turning. I peel open a leaf and slather minced serpentiswort over his wound, tying it in place with shredded orange fabric. “Get him to safety. Where’s the rest of your team?”

“Getting the antidote,” he hisses.

He finishes his spell and buckles forward, bracing against his knees as he catches his breath .

The young man whimpers. “Whatever’s on this leaf, it’s—” he stops himself. “Help me up. I can get myself back to the patient.”

His leader growls as he carefully aids his friend. “ I’ll get you there.” Narrowed eyes land on me. “This doesn’t change anything.”

Only the way I see you. Loyal to your friends.

They hobble away, their flapping orange cloaks a beacon in the dark.

Megaera and I continue deeper into the cave.

There are lots of tunnelling passages and at each turn we take a rock, blacken it with our flame, and mark our direction.

The musical sound of dripping water has me racing around a few lefts.

Our plant thrives on the dark and water—

I stumble over a root and catch myself on crumbly rock. “Careful, Megaera, there’s—”

I gasp. It wasn’t a root. It’s someone’s arm. I hold our small flame closer. Four unconscious bodies. I take their pulses. “Megaera...”

She passes me the salve and I swipe some under each of their noses. We find handkerchiefs to protect them from breathing in any more of the spores, then I push to my feet and we round a corner into a spacious cavern.

My step hitches. The ceiling rises far above, as high as a grand luminarium; from its centre, a shaft of sunlight streams into the middle of a dark lake, water droplets big and small falling around it.

The rest of the cavern is covered in blooming vines, the sparkling light of their pollen dancing between petals—like walls with a million floating candles.

“Mesmerising,” Megaera murmurs and I halt her before she dreamily reaches for one of the flowers.

“Puffers grow under them. That’s how people get poisoned.”

Movement across the cavern has us looking over to the royal team, their faces also covered, entering from the opposite side. A third and fourth team join us from other entrances.

All three teams immediately send spells to retrieve the lifesaving nectar, and my stomach dives to my feet. “Megaera, hold the flame up to the vine—”

Before she can lift the fire starter, a shriek echoes around the cavern.

Someone has disturbed the vine—all those hidden flowers are bursting into puff, triggering those nearby to puff too.

Clouds of dusty poison smother the two teams by the far wall, and the cloud is swiftly moving towards the royal team—and us.

Florentius instinctively throws a bubble shield around himself and his team and I see relieved shoulders sagging against the shield as puff passes over them without effect.

We can’t conjure such a shield. Our masks might be good against spores but will be useless against this.

If it touches our skin or we breathe it in, our limbs will become sluggish.

Movement will become painful, our minds will blur, and our hands will shake.

We might make it back to the clearing, but it’ll damage our chances of completing the trial .

I knock the fire starter to the ground. “Hold your breath!”

I shove Megaera into the lake and jump in after her.

Cold water rushes around us, colder than the first icy breath of the cave, the type of cold that stings and numbs your mind.

It’s dark under the water, too dark to see Megaera, but her cloak tangles around my arm and I’m pulling it down.

To make sure she stays under long enough. ..

How long until the puff settles? A minute?

My heartbeat is loud in my ears; it feels like it vibrates in the water around us. It’s so cold, and then... then it’s not. My limbs warm like I’m sinking into a cozy sleep. My eyelids are heavy.

I hear Quin’s voice telling me to look at him and I frantically turn, searching through the darkness until—there, light. Quin. He glides towards me, his face so frustratingly beautiful I start choking. He keeps closing the distance, this time with his lip curling. “Let me help you.”

He hauls me against his chest and his mouth descends upon mine with a flood of warmth and air—

“Cael! Wake up!”

A startling slap has me pinging my eyes open to a twinkling cavern and Megaera’s looming face.

I scramble into a sitting position, catching my breath, steadying my damn heart. “What just happened?”

I’m not talking about nearly drowning. “Dragged you out with me,” Megaera says. “Lucky you were caught in my cloak. ”

I scan the cavern. We’re alone.

I slam my eyes shut, my wet clothes heavy and cold against my skin. Even my loosened hair adds pressure to my shoulders. The silence feels poignant, even the dripping from earlier has momentarily ceased.

I’ve overestimated myself. I’ve wished too hard. Yearning to win, to free him... it’s not enough. We’re an outcast non-magic team up against the most refined magical healers. Young vitalians who have grown up studying just to pursue this contest.

There’s always been little chance. I’ve been a fool to hope otherwise.

I drop back, hitting the floor of the cave with an agonised whimper. It won’t just be us who pay the price. Quin’s life hangs in the balance, as do the lives of those on the longboat. Failure isn’t an option. But right now, it feels inevitable.

I’ve lost this.

I’ve killed my . . . king.