n the body of the
Khatkan witch doctor.

The pillar of fire swayed, fluttered as if a wind drove it--and was
gone. Tau, unmarked, smiled.

"Fire!" He pointed his fingers at Lumbrilo. "Would you try earth, and
water, and air also, wizard? Call hither your whirlwind, up your flood,
summon the land to quake. None of those shall bring me down!"

Shapes came flooding out of the night, some monstrous, some human,
streaming past Lumbrilo to crowd into the circle of firelight. Some Dane
thought he knew, some were strangers. Men wearing space uniforms, or the
dress of other worlds, women--they strode, wept, mingled with the
monsters to laugh, curse, threaten.

Dane guessed that Lumbrilo sent now against the Terran the harvest of
the medic's own memories. He shut his eyes against this enforced
intrusion upon another's past, but not before he saw Tau's face,
strained, fined to the well-shaped bones beneath the thin flesh, holding
still a twisted smile as he met each memory, accepted the pain it held
for him, and set it aside unshaken.

"This, too, has no power any longer, man who walks in the dark."

Dane opened his eyes. Those crowding wraiths were fading, losing
substance. Lumbrilo crouched, his lips drawn back from his teeth, his
hatred plain to read.

"I am not clay to be molded by your hands, Lumbrilo. And now I say that
the time has come to call an end--"

Tau raised his hands slowly once again, holding them away from his body,
palms pointing earthward. And beneath them, on either side of the
spaceman, two black shadows gathered on the surface of the ground.

"You have fettered yourself with your own bounds. As you have been the
hunter, so shall you now be the hunted."

Those shadows were growing as plants might issue from the packed soil of
the camping ground. When his hands were shoulder high, Tau held them
steady. Now on either side of his tautly held body crouched one of the
black-and-white lions with which Lumbrilo had identified his own brand
of magic throughout the year.

Lumbrilo's "lion" had been larger than life, more intelligent, more
dangerous, subtly different from the normal animal it counterfeited. So
now were these. And both of them raised their heads to gaze intently
into the medic's face.

"Hunt well, brothers in fur," he said slowly, almost caressingly. "Him
whom you hunt shall grant you sport in the going."

"Stop it!" A man leaped from the shadows behind the witch doctor.
Firelight made