"Tark, do not kill! You were to watch, not to kill yet!"
The memory crashed suddenly through his mind, the memory of where he had heard that name before.
The weird dream of alien, menacing thought-voices, the flying shadow in his room and the sound of wings in the night-memory of them ripped the alcoholic fog from Eric Nelson's mind.
His hands suddenly gripped the girl's slim shoulders with bruising force. "You said 'Tark!'" he rasped. "You said it before when I thought I was dreaming. You were talking somehow to that wolf!"
The caution and suspicion that had kept him alive for ten years in China's wars were all on the alert at this moment, dominating Nelson.
He glared at the girl. "You got me here for a reason. You know Shan Kar, you're of his race. Why are you spying on him?"
Nsharra looked back into his accusing eyes, with a little hurt look on her delicate face. She spoke softly.
She said, "Kill now, Tark!"
The wolf-dog was a dark thunderbolt that leaped in from the doorway and knocked Nelson sprawling as Nsharra jerked swiftly back.
Nelson made one abortive gesture toward his gun and then knew that, before he could draw it, his throat would be cut. He wrapped his arms around his own neck as he rolled with the wolf-dog's hairy weight on top of him.