But Blayne didn't answer. With one desperate surge of power, Elliot clamped his fingers even tighter.
Something snapped. The snake gave one convulsive shudder and dropped its lifeless coils from Elliot's body. He stood up, quivering with tension.
As the snake hit the ground, a pencil beam seared the air, burning its head off. "That's that," Housten Blayne said in relief.
Elliot whirled to face him. "Why the devil did you stand there? It could have killed me. Why didn't you use your knife?"
Blayne shrugged. "You were doing all right. Now do something about the car, will you?"
Elliot repressed a vivid curse and turned away. The sight of Blayne sickened him, and he wished there were some way of exacting the revenge Blayne merited without forfeiting the cash for the trip. There wasn't.
He bent and examined the car. "The front axle's broken," he said, after a moment's scrutiny. "There's nothing much we can do about it out here."
"Nothing?"
"Not unless you want to lash it together with some twigs," Elliot said acidly.
"We can't turn back now," Blayne said. "Start loading your pack. We'll walk the rest of the way. The Dragonbird's lair can't be too far off."