Nevertheless, Myles determined to try and make a beginning somewhere in order to understand what this mass of verbiage was all about, so he wrote, “How can you tell? Surely you cannot see souls!”
“Surely we can,” the reptile king replied, “for souls are creatures just as real as we are, and have an independent existence from the day they hatch until they are inserted in the brain of somebody. From the way you talk, I cannot believe that you have any soul.”
“Of course I have,” Myles remonstrated.
“Prove it to me,” Boomalayla demanded. “Let me see the back of your head.”
Myles complied.
“No,” the winged king continued, “you have no soul. There is no scar.”
This conversation was irritating in the extreme. It led nowhere. Quivven and Doggo read all the correspondence, and were equally perplexed.
The huge pterosaur continued writing. “I can see that you do not believe me,” he wrote.
“This is not to be wondered at, since you yourself are soulless. Though I cannot understand how a beast like you, without a soul, can be as intelligent as you seem to be. Come to our temple, and I will show you souls.”
So saying, Boomalayla, accompanied by Queekle Mukki, the serpent, led Cabot and his two companions out of the buildings and through the streets of the city to another edifice, which they entered.