silence.

"How did you get here?" she asked.

He did not mean to be enigmatical. He was chiefly concerned with
still gazing at her.

"I flew here," he answered. Her eyes opened wider at that, but with
interest, not doubt.

"Where are your wings?" she asked. She was leaning sideways, trying
to get a view of his back.

He laughed. It made her seem more human, that curiosity about his
back.

"Over there," he answered. She looked, and for the first time saw
the great shimmering sails gleaming like silver under the moonlight.

She moved towards it, and he followed, noticing without surprise
that the heather seemed to make no sign of yielding to the pressure
of her white feet.

She halted a little away from it, and he came and stood beside her.
Even to Commander Raffleton himself it looked as if the great wings
were quivering, like the outstretched pinions of a bird preening
itself before flight.

"Is it alive?" she asked.