She looked along his wing.
“I see nothing . . . .! It is night. . . . It is dark. . . . Chimera!!!”
“What, little Psyche?”
“Where is the land of silver light, the land of the people of light? Where is it gone?”
“Do you not see it?”
“No. . . .”
“Then it is gone. . . .”
“Whither?”
“Behind us, under us. . . .”
“Why did you not descend sooner?”
“My flight was too quick, and I could not, Psyche. . . .”
“You are deceiving me! You could have done so. You would not. . . . Now . . . . now it is night, pitch dark, starless night. . . . There is an icy coldness in the air. . . . O Chimera, take me back . . . .!!”
He turned with a swing of his powerful wings. And as he turned, the lightning broke forth and darted zigzag through the air, like smooth -bright electric swords; the black clouds parted asunder with a violent peal of thunder like the clapping of cymbals, a storm of wind arose, the rain fell down in torrents . . .!
“O Chimera, take me back!”
