It was a small island, apparently bare of vegetation, its sides rising sharply to a peak, as if the tip of a drowned mountain had not been entirely engulfed.

It was then that a fresh danger alerted Hawkmoon!

“Rocks! We’re heading straight for them! Crew! To your positions. Helmsman …” But Hawkmoon was already dashing for the helm, had grabbed it, was desperately trying to save the ship from running aground.

D’Averc joined him, lending his own strength to turn the craft. The island loomed larger and larger and the sound of the surf boomed in their earsa drumbeat to herald disaster.

Slowly the ship turned as the cliffs of the island towered over them and the spray drenched them, but then they heard a terrible scraping sound which became a scream of tortured timbers and they knew that the rocks were ripping into the starboard side beneath the waterline.

“Every man for himself!” Hawkmoon cried and ran for the rail. D’Averc closely behind him. The ship lurched and reared like a living thing and all were flung back against the port rails of the craft. Bruised but still conscious, Hawkmoon and D’Averc pulled themselves to their feet, hesitated for a moment, then dived into the black and seething waters of the sea.

Weighted by his great broadsword, Hawkmoon felt himself being dragged to the bottom. Through the swirling water he saw other shapes drifting and the noise of the surf was now dull in his ears. But he would not release the Sword of the Dawn. Instead he fought to scab

bard it and then use all his energy to strike up to the surface, dragging the heavy blade with him.

At last he broke through the waves and got a dim impression of the ship above him. The sea seemed much Calmer and eventually the wind dropped altogether, the boom of the surf diminished to a whisper and a strange silence took the place of the cacophony of a few moments earlier. Hawkmoon headed for a flat rock, reached it, and dragged himself on to land.

Then he looked back.

The reptilian monsters were still wheeling in the sky, but so high they did not disturb the air with their wing beats. Suddenly they rose still higher, hovered for a moment, then dived headlong toward the sea.

One by one they struck the waves with a great smashing noise. The ship groaned as the wash hit it and Hawkmoon was almost sluiced from his place of safety.

Then the monsters were gone.

Hawkmoon wiped water from, his eyes and spat out the brine from his mouth.

What would they do next? Was it their intention to keep their prey alive, to pick them off when they needed fresh meat? There was no way of telling.

Hawkmoon heard a cry and saw D’Averc and half-adozen others come staggering along the rocks toward him.

D’Averc looked bewildered. “Did you see the beasts leave, Hawkmoon?”