Page 88 of Skinwalker's Bane
He would have landed flat on his back, only there were too many people around him. He fell against backs. His eyes were closed and his body was limp. It slithered between the others and dropped to the ground.
Adam spun and wrapped his arm around Devin’s middle. “Hold on to me,” he yelled, breathing hard. “Stay on your feet!”
Devin clung to him. He was almost lifting her off her feet, taking most of her weight. She wasn’t sure she could have walked without the support. The dizziness was making sounds beat at her in waves.
Adam hauled her forward, pushing and shoving with his other hand, warding off people as they stumbled into them. He was taller than most, heavier and far stronger. He also seemed to know where he was going.
The press of bodies slackened, the writhing became less.
A dark shape ahead of them made Devin look up. She fought to focus her gaze and see what it was.
The stage. She had been very close to the stage. The hillock she had picked to sit upon when she first arrived had been more than half-way between the stage and the edge of the Meadow. She had been carried forward.
Did that mean the fighting was pushing toward the stage, too?
The man on the stage was familiar to her. She plucked his name with effort. Magorian. He was shouting at the woman there, yanking at her arm. There were others pressed in around her.
The Captain.
Adam bent and hauled a man up onto his feet. He had been lying in front of them. Then Adam hoisted Devin back up against him. “Nearly there,” he told her.
Devin didn’t have the ability to put words together. Instead she pointed up at the stage.
Adam looked up.
Owens was shouting at Magorian as much as he was yelling at her. They seemed to be trying to haul her off the stage and she was resisting. Her cheeks were wet.
Adam and Devin were both looking at the Captain when the knife whistled through the air with a whispering, sharp sound Devin would never forget.
It punched into Zsoka Owen’s chest, slamming her backward. She would have fallen except that Magorian had a grip on her arm. She looked down the black blade protruding from her chest, surprise registering.
Then her eyes closed and she slumped.
Magorian lowered her to the ground and Devin couldn’t see her anymore.
Screaming started.
“The Captain! The Captain is dead!”
Adam swore. He pushed forward with furious energy, roughly shoving people aside and bringing Devin with him. Then they were out of the crowd, on the very edges of it, the cloth covered front of the stage before them.
Devin breathed in the cool, fresh air, feeling strength return. The dizziness backed off a bit more. She shook her head and felt something sliding down her face and wiped at it. Her fingers came away bloody.
Dhaval Bull’s blow had split her skin.
Adam was striding over to the stairs that led up to the stage. She realized he was going to climb them to get out of the fighting. It was still swirling around them, even though the cries about the Captain were echoing across the whole Meadow.
Adam got a grip on the stair rail and hauled her up.
“Everyone! Listen to me! Listento me!” The voice was not a stranger’s. Devin knew the voice, only she couldn’t see who was standing on the stage and talking. Not unless they climbed higher. Her feet were cooperating sluggishly. She concentrating on taking the next step, with Adam almost lifting her up off her feet.
There were a dozen or more people already camped on the stairs, trying to get away from the riot. Adam squeezed past them.
“I said, everyone, be still! Listen to me!” The man’s voice boomed across the Meadow, amplified by the sound enhancers.
They climbed high enough that Devin could see over the edge of the stage.
Manlio Sauber was standing where the Captain had stood. He had his hands up. Behind him, Magorian and others were bent over the Captain’s body.
