CHAPTER ELEVEN
Merk slid down the rope so fast he could barely breathe, flying down the side of the Tower of Ur, aiming for the army of waiting trolls below. He knew this plunge was suicidal, yet he no longer cared. With the tower surrounded, his fellow watchers nearly all dead, he was going to go down his way—not cowering at the top, but fighting hand-to-hand, just the way he always had in life, and taking some of them down with him.
The ground rushed up to meet him, and Merk, breathless, landed on the shoulders of two trolls, knocking them flat on their back and cushioning his own fall. He hit the ground ready, rolling and extracting two daggers from his waist, the same daggers he had used to assassinate his entire life, and he threw himself into the group of trolls.
He sliced one’s t
