The sandcat lay quietly, its eyes following his nervous path. The harder the man mentally worked over the problem, the more impossible it seemed escaping the trap they were in. On impulse, Nightwind sat cross-legged in front of the sandcat and carefully said, “Could you support the weight of two of us?” Yes… “I want to try getting out of the pit. What I …” Nightwind stopped as he saw the glazed look cross the eyes of the sandcat. The animal seemed in a trance, hypnotized. Then it purred like its smaller cousin on Earth, rolled over and kicked its feet at the air. Nightwind had the vague sensation of intense pleasure. He couldn’t imagine the reason for the sandcat’s sudden joy. It didn’t make sense at all. The Guardian rolled back over, getting its paws under its body. Looking Nightwind squarely in the eyes, the tattered thought came: Wand of Command … after centuries … evil slavery … never … unable resist. Heuser came over and stood by Nightwind’s shoulder. “What’s wrong with our, uh, friend, Rod?
