The moon was half-way down the west, a pale, thoughtful moon, mottling the desert with shadows.

Of a sudden she was eclipsed, remaining visible, but sending forth no light: a thick, diaphanous film covered her patient beauty, and she looked troubled.

The film swept a little aside, and I saw the edge of it against her clearness--the jagged outline of a bat-like wing, torn and hooked.

Came a cold wind with a burning sting--and Lilith was upon me.

Her hands were still bound, but with her teeth she pulled from my shoulder the cloak Lona made for me, and fixed them in my flesh.