as they did the cobbles. “Gwen,” she shouted, but the figure didn’t move, and with the press of humanity even Lydia’s mark wasn’t enough to tell her if the other girl was alive.
Weight slammed against Lydia’s back, and then she was on the ground, crawling, trying to keep the pace even as boots and bare feet alike stepped on her legs and hands. She shrieked as one of her fingers broke beneath a heel but kept going, falling across Gwen’s still form.
“Get up!” She dragged on Gwen’s arm, but the other girl barely stirred.
Lydia tried to rise to her feet but was knocked down time and again. Gasps that were half sobs tore from her throat, exhaustion deadening her limbs as she protected Gwen’s body with her own. Unless they got clear of the crowd, they were both dead.
Gritting her teeth against the pain, Lydia forced herself onto her hands and knees, lifting her head to search for the other guardswomen. For anyone who might help them. Then through the masses of civilians, her eyes latched on a hooded figure that stood amidst the chaos. It seemed to burn with life, the mists seething around it bright as the sun. But instead of being transfixed by the beauty, Lydia’s guts heaved, her throat burning with bile as dark eyes rimmed with fire looked over the crowd. Not human.
Corrupted.
33
KILLIAN
People flung themselves out of the way of his horse and Killian urged the animal to greater speed, its hooves ringing against the cobbles as they flew up the street. Killian held tight to Malahi with one arm, the Princess sitting sideways across his lap, her cheek pressed against his chest.
“My guard,” she shouted over the noise. “Are they with us?”
“They can take care of themselves,” Bercola bellowed from where she ran next to them, the only one capable of keeping his pace. “And it’s you the crowd is after, not them.”
Killian cast a backward glance over his shoulder, counting red coats even as he searched for black hair and a pale face.
There.
Lydia was pushing through the masses, her expression unreadable from this distance but her head moving from side to side as though searching. She staggered as a woman carrying a handful of horsemeat slammed into her, colliding with another woman. Then the crowd surged again and Lydia disappeared from sight.
Without thinking, Killian dragged on Surly’s reins, the stallion sliding to a stop even as Killian pushed Malahi into Bercola’s arms. Then digging in his heels, he galloped back toward the crowd.
“Stay with the Princess,” he shouted at the guards he passed, digging into his pocket and pulling out a handful of coins, which he tossed ahead of the pursuing crowd. The civilians dropped to their knees, fighting over the silver and gold, then turning on one another.
His horse shrieked, reaching out to snap at any who came close, and Killian rose in his stirrups, searching for Lydia’s familiar red coat. But there was crimson everywhere, the people splattered with blood from the carriage horses and the blood of one another, dozens lying still, their bodies tripping up those trying to flee.
A flicker of motion caught his eye, a pale face splattered with mud and blood, and he dug in his heels. “Move!” he roared at those in his way, a path clearing ahead of him, revealing Lydia sprawled over Gwen’s still form.
Leaping off Surly’s back, he left the stallion to fend off the crowd. “Lydia!”
She looked up, green eyes full of panic but very much alive. Relief flooded his veins as he caught her under the arms, lifting her upright, then pulling her against him as she swayed. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she gasped, wiping blood from her eyes. “Gwen’s not.”
“Shit!” He let go of her, bending to pick up Gwen’s limp form. Blood soaked the girl’s coat, but he felt a whisper of breath against his cheek. “Get on the horse. You’ll need to hold her.”
“Killian!” There was urgency in her voice. “There’s one of the corrupted in the crowd. I saw her.”
His stomach flipped. “Where?”
“I don’t know. I only caught a glimpse.”
He searched the diminishing crowd, ignoring those who jostled against him, but he saw nothing. Except that didn’t mean Lydia was wrong about what she’d seen, and he’d left Malahi alone with only a handful of guards.
“Lydia, get on the horse!”
She scrambled onto the stallion’s back, and he eased Gwen across the saddle in front of her, unleashing a stream of profanity at the horse as he shuffled