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Blade of Glass: Chapter 11
I’m an idiot. That’s it! And it’s all my fault. Meriwether hung by his hands and feet from a pole. It was lugged between two hulking Vhemin. He didn’t like being trussed up and carried, especially since the Vhemin didn’t have the courtesy of using locks. He couldn’t tickle rope open. The strands were coarse and chafed his wrists as he swung like a dead hog. Above him, his knife skewered the wood, wedged in there nice and solid. Tied up as he was, he wouldn’t be able to work it free without attracting a great deal of attention, which he supposed was part of the cruel joke. If he craned his neck he could spy the giant Israel behind, and the slender form of Vertiline ahead. Both were trussed like he was, but also out cold, which was probably Read More …