that? A vague outline of a white face?

He stared hard until it disappeared, then he sighed and realized how rigidly he'd been standing there. And of course he'd been open to attack from behind all that time.

No, not really. If he couldn't see an arm's length away, neither could the other two.

But they didn't have to see. They knew the ropes so well that they could grope blindfolded to his nest and there feel him out. A touch of a finger, followed by a thrust of steel. That would be all it would take.He was thinking of that when he felt the finger. It poked into his back and held him like a statue for just a second, quivering, paralyzed. Then he gave a hoarse cry and jumped away. He snatched out his dagger and crouched down close to the floor, straining his eyes and ears, trying to detect them. Surely, if they were breathing as hard as he, he couldn't fail to hear them. On the other hand, he realized with a sudden sickishness, they could hear him just as well.

"Come on! Come on!" he said soundlessly, through clenched teeth. "Do something! Make a move so I can pin you, you sons of _izzots_!" Perhaps they were doing the same, waiting for him to betray himself. The best thing was to hug the floor where he was and hope they'd stumble over him.

He kept reaching out in front of him, feeling for the warm flesh of a face. His other hand held his dagger.

It was during one of his tentative explorations that he felt the basket where Grizquetr had left it. At once, seized with what he thought was an inspiration, he pulled out the flare. Why wait for them to close in on him and butcher him like a hog? He'd send up the flare now, and in the first shock of its glare he'd attack them. The only trouble was, he'd have to put down his dagger in order to take his flint and steel and tinderbox from his pocket. He hated not to have it ready for thrusting. Solving this problem by putting the dagger between his teeth, he took out his firebox, paused, and swiftly put them back. Now, how was he supposed to get the tinder going when it was drizzling? That was one thing Amra, with all her cleverness, hadn't thought of.

"Fool!" he whispered to himself. "I'm the fool!" And in the next moment, he was removing his coat and putting the flint and steel and box under its protecting cover. He couldn't see what he was doing, but if he held the tinder close enough a spark should fall on it. Then he'd have a flame hot enough to touch off the fuse of the flare. 

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