Empyrean nodded.
‘Where?’
‘Ahead of us.’
Other eagles joined them, sweeping down out of the sky in slow circles. Raphael could see the white line of surf breaking over the bleak shore back of which rose low hills covered with dark firs.
They flew on rapidly and came in a few moments to the head of a little bay where a sluggish river emptied into the sea. At the mouth of the river was a stone landing from which led a straight white road.
‘Look! Look!’ yelled Raphael.
Alongside the jetty lay a huge silver submarine with a gangplank leading from the conning tower to the jetty. Deserted, it slept like an ocean monster, gently rubbing against the pier head, while little waves creamed against its shimmering sides. There was no movement, no sign of life anywhere. Only the sun glistening on silver steel decks.
Without lighting they flew inland, following the river and the road which led away from the coast. After a time mountains appeared on the horizon, the river disappeared in low hills, and only the slender road wound westward.
They rose slowly higher and higher as the mountains pushed up into the sky. It was like flying, Raphael thought, over a rumpled comforter on a gigantic bed. Clouds gathered about them, masses of cold, moist vapor shutting out the earth below, smothering the mountains in their soft folds, shutting them off into another world with the sun and the blue sky.
At signal from Empyrean, all the eagles dove through the clouds and, swooping in a great circle, lit on top of a mountain which overhung a broad valley that stretched westward as far as Raphael could see. Through the center of this valley flowed a broad river.