The Seeress of Kell

coming back!" Cautioning the Orb to behave itself, he drew Iron-grip's sword. Zakath also pulled his broadsword from its sheath with a steely hiss. "Spread out," Garion said. "Get far enough away so that she can attack only one of us at a time. If she comes at you, I'll attack her from behind. If she comes at me, you do the same. If you can manage it, try for her tail. She goes all to pieces when somebody attacks that. She'll try to turn around to protect it. Then whichever one of us is in front of her might be able to get a clear swing at her neck.”
    "Right," Zakath said.
    They fanned out again, tensely awaiting the dragon's attack.
    Their lances, Garion saw, had been bitten off, leaving only short stumps protruding from the dragon's sides. It was upon Zakath that she fell, and the force of her strike knocked him out of his saddle. He floundered, trying to get to his feet as the dragon bathed him in flames.
    Again and again he struggled, trying to get up, but he instinctively flinched back from each billow of flame, and the dragon's raking talons dug at him, making it impossible for him to regain his feet. Snakelike, the dragon's head darted forward, her cruel fangs screeching across his armor.
    Garion discarded his strategy at that point. His friend needed immediate protection. He leaped from his saddle to run to Zakath's aid. "I need some fire!" he barked at the Orb, and his sword immediately burst into bright-blue flame. He knew that Torak had made the dragon invincible to common sorcery on the day he had created her, but he hoped that she might not be immune to the power of the Orb. He stepped in front of Zakath's struggling body and drove the dragon back with great, two-handed strokes. Iron-grip's sword sizzled each time it bit into her face, and she shrieked in pain with every stroke. She did not, however, flee.
    "Get up!" Garion shouted to Zakath. "Get on your feet!" Behind him he could hear the rattling of Zakath's armor as the Mallorean struggled to rise. Suddenly ignoring the pain Garion's blows were causing her, the dragon clawed at him with her talons, knocking him off balance. He stumbled backward and fell on top of Zakath. The dragon shrieked in triumph and lunged in. Desperately Garion stabbed with his sword, and with a great, sizzling hiss, her bulging left eyeball collapsed. Even as he struggled to get back up again, a strange notion came to Garion. It was the same eye. Torak's left eye had been destroyed by the power of the Orb, and now the same thing had happened to the dragon. Despite the dreadful danger they were in, Garion was suddenly certain that they would win.
    The dragon had fallen back, bellowing in pain and rage. Garion took advantage of that. He scrambled to his feet and yanked Zakath up. "Get around to her left side!" he barked. "She's blind on that side now! I’ll keep her attention! You swing at her neck!"
    They separated, moving fast to get into position before the dragon could recover. Garion swung his great, blazing sword as hard as he could and opened a huge wound across the dragon's snout. The blood spurted out, drenching his armor, and the dragon answered his blow with a billow of flame that engulfed him. He ignored the fire and drove in, swinging stroke after stroke at her face. He could see Zakath directing two-handed blows at the snakelike neck, but the heavy, overlapping scales defeated his best efforts. Garion continued his attack with the burning sword. The half-blinded dragon clawed at him, and he struck at the scaly forepaw, half severing it. Injured now almost beyond endurance, the dragon began a grudging, step-by-step retreat.
    "Keep on her!" Garion shouted to Zakath. "Don't give her time to set herself again!”
    Grimly the pair drove the hideous beast back and back, alternating their blows. When Garion struck, the dragon turned her head to bathe him in fire. Then Zakath would swing at the unprotected back of her head. She would swivel her head to meet his attack, and then Garion would strike at her. Confused and frustrated by this deadly tactic, the dragon helplessly swung her head back and forth, her furnace-like breath singeing bushes and turf more often than it did her attackers. Finally, driven beyond her ability to bear the pain, she began to desperately flap her sail-like wings, clumsily attempting to rise from the earth.
    "Don't let up!" Garion called. "Keep pushing her!" They continued their savage attack. "Try to get her wings!" Garion yelled. "Don't let