hose soulless yellow disks, Garin snatched off
his hood, wadding it into a ball. Then he sprang. His fingers slipped on
smooth hide, sharp fangs ripped his forearm, blunt nails scraped his
ribs. A foul breath puffed into his face and warm slaver trickled down
his neck and chest. But his plan succeeded.

The cap was wedged into the morgel's throat and the beast was slowly
choking. Blood dripped from the flyer's torn flesh, but he held on
grimly until he saw the light fade from those yellow eyes. The dying
morgel made a last mad plunge for freedom, dragging his attacker along
the rock floor. Then Garin felt the heaving body rest limply against his
own. He staggered against the wall, panting.

"Garin!" cried Thrala. Her questing hand touched his shoulder and crept
to his face. "It is well with you?"

"Yes," he panted, "let us go on."

Thrala's fingers had lingered on his arm and now she walked beside him,
her cloak making whispering sounds as it brushed against the wall and
floor.

"Wait," she cautioned suddenly. "The morgel pit...."

Dandtan slipped by them. "I will try the door."

In a moment he was back. "It is open," he whispered.

"Kepta believes," mused Thrala, "that we will keep to the safety of the
gallery. Therefore let us go through the pit. The morgels will be gone
to better hunting grounds."

Through the pit they went. A choking stench arose from underfoot and
they trod very carefully. They climbed the stairs on the far side
unchallenged, Dandtan leading.

"The rod here, Garin," he called; "this door is barred."

Garin pressed the weapon into the other's hand and leaned against the
rock. He was sick and dizzy. The long, deep wounds on his arm and
shoulder were stiffening and ached with a biting throb.

When they went on he panted with effort. They still moved in darkness
and his distress passed unnoticed.

"This is wrong," he muttered, half to himself. "We go too easily--"

And he was answered out of the blackness. "Well noted, outlander. But
you go free for the moment, as does Thrala and Dandtan. Our full
accounting is not yet. And now, farewell, until we meet again in the
Hall of Thrones. I could find it in me to applaud your courage,
outlander. Perhaps you will come to serve me yet."

Garin turned and threw himself toward the voice, bringing up with
bruising force against rock wall. Kepta laughed.

"Not with the skill of the bull Tand will you capture me."

His second laugh was cut clean