"If you're quiet," he promised, "I won't hurt you. Not much, anyway." Then his arm was about her, pinioning her, while his free hand snaked to her waist and plucked the hypodermic from its case. For a moment she struggled and even tried to bite him, as she saw what he was about to do. Then, clumsily but effectively, he had stabbed the needle into her upper arm and pressed the plunger home.
He felt her stiffen and then relax, shivering, as the drug coursed through her blood. He released her and stepped back, watching her warily.
"How do you like your own medicine, spider?" he demanded harshly.
The girl stood motionless. Her black eyes, fixed on him, seemed to dull as if with sleep.
"Do you hear me?"
"Yes," she said tonelessly.
"Do you obey me if I give you orders?"
"Yes."
Dworn grinned exultantly. It had worked—But there was no time to lose. The Spider Mother might return any moment.
"Where is my machine?"