"Keep cool. Remember what I always taught you. Never let an enemy make you commit suicide by making you lose your head."
The niche was like a coffin in the darkness. Tabor's evil taunting and Firebird's scream seemed to combine in an echoing song of torment that swelled and beat upon his senses.
And then, in the purple darkness, the six Jewels that lay on the floor seized his attention. Where their color had seemed merely phosphorescent before, it now seemed to blaze up as if hidden fires had come to life. Nathan watched to make sure his eyes were not merely becoming more accustomed to the darkness. But it was more than that. The light pulsed and rose in the niche. It climbed the walls and filled the air with twitching streamers that seemed like living things.
And it was making him an easy target for a reflective shot from Tabor. But what did it matter what happened to him now that Firebird was gone?
He fired a half dozen shots in rapid succession.
"Wild, all wild," taunted Tabor. "You must do it with precision. Like this!"
A flame shot through the niche, but it ricocheted from the edge of the opening and missed Nathan's head by only a foot. The blast seared his face and blinded his eyes.
"See what I mean?" said Tabor.
He had the range now, Nathan knew. That's what the rifle shots had been for—to enable him to determine a good spot to make a reflective shot into the depths of the niche.