The manticore crashed into the pile, but the masonry was too thick for it to break through. With a human-sounding scream of frustration, the monster reared up, rested its paws atop the pile, and looked over. Frustration turned to unholy triumph, and it grinned. Its quarry was trapped!
Hytanthas stood with his back against the estate’s outer wall, designed to enclose the villa like a miniature fortress. Whole sections had been toppled, but it was his misfortune that this portion, a good twenty yards long, was intact. Fifteen feet high, its surface was smoothly plastered, allowing for no handholds, even for a nimble and highly motivated elf.
With evident relish and terrifying slowness, the manticore scaled the masonry pile. Its pale blue eyes never left Hytanthas’s face, and the elf stared back, afraid if he looked away it would pounce.
Suddenly, the manticore froze, right foreleg in the air. Hytanthas hadn’t heard or felt anything, but the creature obviously had. It waited several long seconds, tail twitching, gaze flickering upward, then resumed its advance.
On the veranda, Faeterus felt something, too. He released the pigeon he’d been stroking, moved to the edge of the gallery, and stared out into the night.
A deep vibration suddenly shook ground and air. Gradually Hytanthas discerned a new sound: heavy footfalls, and the noise of something weighty being dragged. It was coming from his right, a part of the estate he hadn’t explored.
As he tried to make sense of the noises, the manticore began behaving oddly. Attention fixed in the direction of the approaching footsteps, it shrank down, belly against the rubble pile, as if trying to make itself small. Its thin lips parted and it hissed like a frightened cat. The hair along its back stood up.
The heavy footfalls and dragging sound drew nearer, bringing with them the metallic reek of blood. The warm wind carried the stench of putrefaction, as of a large wound gone black with gangrene. The manticore howled loudly then rushed away, keeping itself close to the ground.
Cautiously, Hytanthas followed. He’d spotted his sword, glittering faintly in the rubble. It was a long way away and the manticore, departing or not, was between the weapon and him.
He was sizing up his chance of reaching it when something loomed up out of the darkness. At first he thought it was the manticore, but the sheer bulk of the thing was too great, at least three times the size of Faeterus’s deadly pet. He made out a pair of green eyes, each at least ten inches across, with large vertical black pupils, and a huge face ringed by horns. Hytanthas screamed.
His cries were answered. Faeterus tossed a small globe into the air. It exploded, flooding the scene with brilliant white light. The light was painful to Hytanthas, but bearable. By its illumination, he finally realized what it was he faced, though he could hardly credit his eyes.
During his exile in Khur, the young elf had tried to learn all he could about the dangers his people might face here.
Never had he thought to see a sand beast. Especially not in the middle of a city.
Fortunately, the creature did not seem overly interested in him. Head lowered against the glare, the sand beast continued its advance toward the ruined villa. Someone had hurt it. It hauled itself forward by its forelimbs, its hindquarters dragging lifelessly behind. Where left hind leg joined sloping back, a great festering wound spread.
The elf never considered running away. His mission was to bring Faeterus before the Speaker; he could hardly do that if he left the mage at the mercy of this monster. Faeterus, hampered by his bulky disguise, was descending the stone steps from the veranda.
“Talon!” the sorcerer panted. “Attack!”
The manticore came galloping over the debris-strewn ground, its earlier fear of the sand beast overcome by the will of its master. In the last few yards its strides stretched to great bounds, and on the third leap it threw itself on the sand beast’s back, wrapping its legs around the scaly hide. The greenish-gold scales covering the sand beast’s throat resisted the manticore’s teeth, but the mage’s pet kept trying.
The sand beast shook its horned head from side to side, hoping to dislodge its attacker. The manticore climbed up and hooked its foreclaws on the beast’s lower jaw. Mouth opening wide, the manticore worried the beast’s throat. The sand beast gave up trying to remove its tormenter. Lowering its head, it ran itself against the nearest standing wall. Blocks burst apart, and the manticore finally was knocked loose. It rolled, got its feet beneath it, and sprang again. With lightning precision, the sand beast’s head came around, its jaws opened, and it caught the manticore in mid-leap. The manticore yowled in high-pitched rage, but only for a moment. The sand beast’s jaws closed on its neck. A sickening snap, and the human-looking head dropped to the ground.
