Jack’s hands pressed out against the sides of the cupola and halted his fall. He hung in midair, not moving for an instant, then his palms began to slip on the stone. Jimmy recognized something else was strange, then realized the singing, almost constant in counterpoint to the ceremony, had stopped. As Jack began his backward slide into space, Jimmy heard shouts and screams from below.
Then Jimmy felt a shock and his head struck stone. His legs felt as if they were being torn from his hips, and the boy knew Jack had grabbed the only thing he could reach, Jimmy’s ankles. Jimmy was dragged outward as Jack’s weight moved them both toward death. Jimmy struggled, pressing backward with all his might, bowing his body to slow his slide, but he might as well have had iron heaped upon his feet for the good it did him. Bones and muscles protested, but he could not move an inch to rid himself of Jack. He was dragged outward slowly, his legs, hips, and back scraping on the stone, the cloth of his trousers and tunic keeping skin intact. Then he was suddenly upright, as Jack’s weight tipped his balance for an instant, teetering upon the lip of the cupola.
Then they fell. Jack released his hold upon the boy, but Jimmy didn’t notice. The stones rushed up to meet them, to crush them in a hard embrace. Jimmy thought his mind must be going at the last, for the stones seemed to slow in their approach, as if some agency had ordered the boy’s last seconds of life to be prolonged. Then Jimmy realized some force had control of him and was slowing his descent. With a less than gentle bump he was upon the floor of the great hall, stunned slightly, but decidedly alive. Guards and priests surrounded him and hands quickly lifted him as he wondered at this miracle. He saw the magician Pug moving his hands in incantation, and felt the strange slowness vanish. Guards cut his bonds, and Jimmy doubled in pain as the returning blood flow burned like hot irons in his feet and hands. He nearly fainted. Two soldiers seized his arms and kept him from falling. As his senses cleared, he saw a half-dozen or more holding Jack down, while others searched for the black poison ring or other means of suicide.
Jimmy looked about, his head clearing. All around him the room seemed frozen in horrified tableau. Father Tully stood at Arutha’s side, while Tsurani guards surrounded the King, their eyes peering into every corner of the room. Everyone else looked at Anita, who was cradled in Arutha’s arms as he knelt upon the stones. Her veils and gown were spread out around her and she seemed to sleep while he held her. She was a vision in pristine white in the late afternoon light, except for the rapidly expanding crimson stain upon her back.
Arutha sat in shock. He leaned forward, elbows on knees, as his eyes stared out into space, unfocused, not seeing any of those with him in the antechamber. He saw only the last minutes of the ceremony, again and again in his mind’s eye.
Anita had just pledged her vows, and Arutha was listening to Tully’s final blessing. Suddenly she had a strange expression and seemed to stumble, as if shoved hard from behind. He caught her, finding it strange she should fall, for she was so graceful by nature. He tried to think of a witticism that would break the tension, for he knew she would feel embarrassed at stumbling. And she looked so serious, with her eyes wide and her mouth half open as if she wanted to ask some important question. When he heard the first scream, he looked up and saw the man hanging backward out of the cupola high above the dais. Instantly everything seemed to run together. People were shouting and pointing and Pug was rushing forward, incanting a spell. And Anita couldn’t seem to stand, no matter how he tried to help her. Then he saw the blood.
Arutha buried his face in his hands and wept. In his life he had never before been unable to control his emotions. Carline placed her arms about him, holding him tight, and her tears fell with his. She had been with him since Lyam and three guards had pulled him from Anita’s side, leaving the priests and chirurgeons to their work. Princess Alicia was in her quarters, near-prostrate from grief. Gardan was off with Martin, Kasumi, and Vandros, supervising the guards who were searching the grounds for any other intruders. By Lyam’s order, the palace had been sealed within minutes of the assassination attempt. Now the King paced the room silently, while Volney was off in a corner, in quiet conversation with Laurie, Brucal, and Fannon. They all awaited word.