Nathan didn't believe a word of what she said, but he knew that if he continued to challenge Firebird with the flame lance it would not take her a dozen shots to find him in the darkness. Though he had been taught by Thymar he could not match such shooting. He would be lucky to find her with a hundred shots. No wonder her prowess had become a legend. "I'll compromise--with one reservation," he said. "I think you killed my father. I know you can kill me here in the darkness. I don't know why you don't. I'll accept your offer, but unless you prove you did not kill my father, you and I will sometime again trade flames to the death." "Done," said Firebird. * * * * * Almost instantly, a pink glow began filling the chamber. It was like the rising of the sun over one of Earth's quiet seas. There seemed to be the perfume of flowers in the air, and the song of birds. [Illustration: _There seemed to be the perfume of flowers in the air, and the song of birds._] And then Nathan realized it was Firebird's song--that high-pitched melody that caused a faint chill to race the length of his spine. The glow, too, was coming from her. It heightened with a tremendous, terrifying crescendo. Nathan had heard babbling outlaws who swore drunkenly to having seen this sight. He stood immobile now, not breathing in the face of the wondrous glory of that unfolding light. The Firebird herself was so dazzling that the pink radiance blinded him after the darkness, but when his eyes became accustomed to it he saw her. She was small, almost tiny, and exquisitely shaped. Her head was encased in a close fitting silver helmet that did not prevent her flowing, raven hair from tumbling over the nape of her neck. As she stood there in the rising glow she seemed poised for flight. A close fitting tunic that seemed to be of scarlet tinted mail protected her body, but her arms and legs were bare and from her very flesh the pink light was emanating. Nathan murmured, half to himself, "Beautiful--and inhuman! Who are you?" The Firebird smiled. And Nathan moved slowly towards her. It was incredible that such evil as he had heard of the Firebird could have come out of such beauty. "Perhaps you shall know who I am some day. For now, our agreement does not call for that. Would you mind pocketing your flame lance before we go on?" Nathan realized his hand still gripped the weapon and it was trained on the girl. It would take only a squeeze of his finger to erase her evil-- "Better not try it," she warned, and the smile did not leave her lips. He looked down at her hand. Her own weapon was trained with equal sureness upon him. Instinctively, then, he knew that all the stories about the fabulous quick draw of the Firebird were true. If he so much as thought of killing her, her finger would squeeze the trigger of her flame lance a thousand times quicker than his. He pocketed the weapon slowly and smiled at her.