Michelle was laid onto the back seat, her head cradled in Lucy’s lap. "How are you off there, Shoplatch?" inquired Kneebone. " McClintock preferred to put it thus. She used his own gun against him, a method that was occasionally cleaner than slitting throats when she got it right. Melusine did not pause, but reached down to grasp the hilt of his sword and lift it. It was Blueskin. You get the idea.
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