The Sorceress of Darshiva gasped in horror as she heard her soul's fate so cruelly pronounced.

"Thou canst not stop me, Poledra," Mordja taunted, "for the King of Hell hath strengthened my hand."

"Thy hand, however, is confined in the body of this rude beast," Poledra said. "Thou hast made thy choice, and in this place, a choice, once made, cannot be unmade. Here wilt thou contend alone, and thine only ally will not be the King of Hell, but no more than this mindless creature which thou hast chosen."

The demon raised its dreadful, fang-filled muzzle with a great howl, and it struggled, heaving its vast shoulders this way and that as it desperately tried to wrench itself free of the shape that enclosed it.

"Does this mean we have to fight them both!" Zakath asked Garion in a shaking voice.

"I'm afraid so."

"Garion, have you lost your mind?"

"It's what we do, Zakath. At least Poledra has limited Mordja's power I don't know how, but she has. Since he doesn't have his full powers, we at least have a chance against him. Let's get at it.” Garion clapped down his visor and strode forward, swinging his flaming sword before him.

Silk and the others had separated, and they were approaching the dragon from the sides and from the rear.

As he and Zakath warily moved in, Garion saw something that might be an even greater advantage. The melding of the primitive mind of the dragon and the age-old one of the demon was not complete. The dragon, with stubborn stupidity, could only focus her single eye upon those enemies who stood directly before her, and she charged on, unmindful of Garion's friends moving toward her flanks. Mordja, however, was all too much aware of the dangers advancing from the sides and from the rear. The division of the unnaturally joined mind of the vast, bat-winged creature gave it a kind of uncharacteristic hesitation, indecision even. Then Silk, the sword of a fallen Grolim in his hands, darted in from the rear and chopped manfully at the writhing tail.

The dragon bellowed in pain, and flames burst from her gaping mouth. Overriding what little control Mordja exerted upon her, she wheeled clumsily to respond to Silk's attack. The little thief, however, skipped nimbly out of her way even as the others dashed in to attack her flanks. Durnik rhythmically hammered on one exposed flank while Toth chopped no less rhythmically at the other.

A desperate plan came unbidden to Garion as he saw that the dragon had turned almost completely around to meet Silk's attack. "Work on her tail!" he shouted to Zakath. He backed off a few paces to give himself running room, then lumbered forward, his movements made awkward by his armor. He leaped over the slashing tail and ran up the dragon's back.