He tumbled over several of the flower vines, and spent the next minute untangling himself from a vine that had torn free and wrapped around his legs. Silence followed. The others waited below to see if he would die a hideous death. Looking around, Jig wondered the same thing.

Two trolls lay dead on the tunnel floor. Wisps of smoke rose from the holes in their chests. Barius was right. His brother had been here.

CHAPTER 14 - Straum Heads off a Possible Rebellion

CHAPTER 14

Straum Heads off a Possible Rebellion

If anything, trolls were even bigger than the ogres had been. Uglier, too. They looked like a cross between giant humans and spoiled apples. Their bald skin was wrinkled and rubbery, and they smelled like old eggs. They also smelled of charred flesh, but that was a result of Ryslind’s magic.

Jig kicked them both to be sure they were dead. Not that most things could get back up with a hole in the chest big enough to crawl through, but Jig wanted to be safe. The trolls didn’t respond, though a few flies buzzed up from the eyes of the closest one.

Smudge leaped off Jig’s shoulder. His legs snapped out in midair, and when he landed on the troll’s forehead, he held a buzzing fly between his forelegs.

Jig watched jealously as Smudge cooked his breakfast. Even flies were starting to sound good. His eyes went to the trolls. Traditionally, the first bite went to the victor, but Ryslind wasn’t around to enjoy the rewards of his kill. His mouth began to water. He had no way to cook the bodies, and raw troll meat probably wasn’t the healthiest thing in the world. Though the wounded area was nicely blackened, and the smell no worse than overcooked carrion-worm. . . .

“What’s taking you so long up there?”

Jig perked his ears at the dwarf’s whisper. Swallowing hastily, he called back, “I was looking for something to tie the rope to. I’m not big enough to pull you up by myself.”

He wiped his mouth and scanned the entrance. No stalagmites, no rocks, nothing that would hold the rope. His gaze returned to the trolls. They were pretty big.

He wound the rope around both trolls’ waists, thinking that dead trolls had turned out to be pretty useful things. He wondered if Golaka had ever cooked troll meat. He’d have to see about bringing some back for her cauldron. If he survived long enough.

Jig poked his head through the vine curtain. “Ready,” he said. Pulling back, he braced himself against the trolls, adding his meager weight to theirs.