Jorth's arm jerked limply, flinging his gun.

And his body sagged in the middle.

His hands fluttered like crippled wings and found their way to his abdomen.

His death-pale face never changed its set look nor position toward Blue.
But his gasping utterance was one of horrible mortal fury and terror.
Then he began to sway, still with that strange, rigid set of his face toward his slayer, until he fell.
His fall broke the spell.

Even Blue, like the gunman he was, had paused to watch Jorth in his last mortal action.