Barry's knife flashed and a noru died. As the survivor swerved to evade Xintel's spear, Barry was upon him from behind.
His knife descended, this time not in a killing stroke. Deliberately he carved a long, shallow gash down the savage's back, a wound that would bleed copiously. Then he shouted and roared ferociously. The wounded noru fled.
Xintel streaked in pursuit, a grim expression on her face and a spear poised, but Barry reached out one arm and caught her ankle. Instinctively she twisted and her fingernails raked his face.
He slapped her hard.
"No!" he barked. "Let the noru go!"
She looked at him in furious disgust as the nomad churned in panic-stricken flight toward the rim.
"He's bleeding!" Barry snapped.
A great dark shadow swooped at the noru, missed, and Xintel looked admiringly at Barry as she understood.
The water above the cleft grew streaky with light as the monsters abandoned the tenuous remnants of the lure to follow a trail of fresh blood. The noru gibbered in horror as he dodged along the rocky bottom.
"Let's go!" Barry barked. "Straight up!"