they were about to
spring. The weaponless Wyvern was the prey, and both her companions were
too far away to interfere.

Why he moved he could not have explained. There was no reason for him
to go to the aid of the Warlockian, one of the same breed who had ruled
him against his will. But Shann sprang, landing in the sand on his hands
and knees.

The sea thing whipped around, undecided between two possible victims.
Shann had his knife free, was on his feet, his eyes on the beast's,
knowing that he had appointed himself dragon slayer for no good reason.

15. DRAGON SLAYER

"Ayeeee!" Sheer defiance, not only of the beast he fronted, but of the
Wyverns as well, brought that old rallying cry to his lips--the call
used on the Dumps of Tyr to summon gang aid against outsiders. Fork-tail
had crouched again for a spring, but that throat-crackling blast
appeared to startle it.

Shann, blade ready, took a dancing step to the right. The thing was
scaled, perhaps as well armored against frontal attack as was the
shell-creature he had fought with the aid of the wolverines. He wished
he had the Terran animals now--with Taggi and his mate to tease and
feint about the monster, as they had done with the Throg hound--for he
would have a better chance. If only the animals were here!

Those eyes--red-pitted eyes in a gargoyle head following his every
movement--perhaps those were the only vulnerable points.

Muscles tensed beneath that scaled hide. The Terran readied himself for
a sidewise leap, his knife hand raised to rake at those eyes. A brown
shape with a V of lighter fur banding its back crossed the far range of
Shann's vision. He could not believe what he saw, not even when a
snarling animal, slavering with rage, came at a lumbering gallop to
stand beside him, a second animal on its heels.

Uttering his own battle cry, Taggi attacked. The fork-tail's head swung,
imitating the movements of the wolverine as it had earlier mimicked the
swaying of the disk in the Wyvern's hand. Togi came in from the other
side. They might have been hounds keeping a bull in play. And never had
they shown such perfect team work, almost as if they could sense what
Shann desired of them.

That forked tail lashed viciously, a formidable weapon. Bone, muscles,
scaled flesh, half buried in the sand, swept up a cloud of grit into the
face of the man and the animals. Shann fell back, pawing with his free
hand at his eyes. The wolverines circled w