Damed rushed to a knot of guards who were crouched between the two cars.

"The river," he shouted. "Go through the square and down the Warden Steps. We have two boats there. You'll lose any pursuit in the fog."

"We can fight our way back to the Emba.s.sy!" retorted Touchstone.

"This is too well planned! The police have turned, or enough of them! You must get out of Corvere. Out of Ancelstierre!"

"No!" shouted Sabriel. "We haven't finished-"

She was cut off as Damed violently pushed her and Touchstone over and dived on to the street. With his legendary quickness, he intercepted a large black cylinder that was tumbling through the air, trailing smoke behind it.

A bomb.

Damed caught and threw it in one swift motion, but even he was not fast enough.

The bomb exploded while it was still in the air. Packed with high explosive and pieces of metal, it killed Damed instantly. The blast broke every window for two miles, and momentarily deafened and blinded everyone within a hundred yards. But it was the thousands of metal fragments that did the real damage, ripping and screaming through the air, to bounce off stone or metal, or all too often, to cut through flesh.

Silence followed the explosion, save for the roar of the burning gas from the shattered lamps. Even the fog had been thrown back by the force of the blast, which had cleared a great circle open to the sky. Rays of weak sunshine filtered through, to illuminate the scene of destruction.

There were bodies strewn all around the cars, not one overcoated guard still standing. Even the car's armoured windows were broken, and the occupants were slumped in death.

The a.s.sa.s.sins waited for a few minutes before they started forward, laughing and congratulating each other, their weapons cradled casually under their arms, or across a shoulder with what they imagined was debonair style.

Their talk and laughter was too loud, but they didn't notice. Their senses were battered, their minds in shock. Not only from the gunfire, the explosion, the terrible sights that drew closer and more real with every step, or even the relief at being alive.

It was three hundred years since a King and a Queen had been slain on the streets of Corvere. Now it had happened again - and they had done the deed.

About the Author.

Garth Nix was born in 1963 and grew up in Canberra, Australia. After taking his degree in professional writing from the University of Canberra, he slowly sank into the mora.s.s of the publishing industry, steadily devolving from sales rep through publicist, until in 1991 he became a senior editor with a major multinational publisher. After a period traveling in Eastern Europe, the Middle East, and Asia in 1993, he left publishing to work as a marketing communications consultant. In 1999, he was lured back to the publishing world to become a part-time literary agent. He now lives in Sydney, a five-minute walk from Coogee Beach, with his wife, Anna, and lots of books.

Garth is the author of, among other books, Sabriel Sabriel, Lirael Lirael, and Shade's Chldren Shade's Chldren.