Merlin had faced death frequently over his long, long life. Mobs, dragons, plagues, assassins . . . Everything, really. He was used to it by now.
He still couldn't repress a hysterical laugh. This was a new one.
The assassin's eyes got even colder, if that was possible. "I said, drop your weapon." The gun was steady in his hands.
"I am a weapon," Merlin managed to choke out around the laughs that were suspiciously like sobs. "Your weapon, my king."
Arthur fired.
