Page 33 of The King’s Man #5

M y lips still tingle as Quin pulls away. “Look after my mother.”

I blink and nod, and he leaves me, soaring through the air towards the harbour where his brother waits for him.

I stare in his long-gone direction as I’m escorted back to the castle, to dilapidated quarters that Casimiria and I will share.

I retire to my bed—a mattress on the floor of what might have been a woodshed—and huddle close to my lantern, using its light. The dromveske swings in my fingers.

I swallow hard and tip the contents onto the mattress. Dozens of carved grey and white pebbles spill out, along with some chalk Quin must have pilfered from Yngvarr’s dromveske. And... a letter.

I hesitate. This is a farewell of sorts. A memento of a story that has reached its conclusion. To be looked back on fondly, to watch from time to time, to reminisce .

On a shivery breath, I open the letter and read.

The paper falls from my fingers, drifting to the runes scattered across my mattress. Runes that will unmask him. Runes that will tell me the truth, that will help me find...

I snap up the stones and chalk.