"And you will teach me to fly?" There was witchery in Naia's words and in her smile; witchery, whimsy, almost a conscious knowledge that now—now—she could not be denied.
"Yes," said Croft in open surrender. "And Zitu pity me if aught befall thee."
"Nay, I will be careful," Naia sobered. "And—and—"
"And what—is there something more, beloved?" Croft questioned softly.
"Nay." She lowered her eyes. "I must go fasten my girdle about me lest we be late for the morning's meal." She swam toward the sunken steps.
And suddenly Croft knew—the thought that had stirred her soul, and it set his own soul glowing. In one swift stroke he overtook her. "Beloved, beloved," he whispered to her, "on the day the new light comes to Himyra I shall once more fasten thy girdle with Azil's seal."
"The new light—" The fires in her blue eyes quickened. "Aye, Jason, I would wear it in the new light," she said as, side by side, they clambered from the pool. "Once in these waters I sought the mouth of Zilla, and in them today I found Azil's, beloved, in the touch of yours."
Half an hour later Croft met Gaya, and she stopped him. "Wise man, and one of great wisdom, are you, Jason, as Robur, my husband, tells me, saying, accompanied by Naia, you have conquered the air." She put out her hand.
Croft took it. He bent toward her. "Hark you, Gaya, my sweet friend," he said, speaking softly. "The air is nothing. I have conquered something else."
"What mean you?" Gaya questioned.