Description: From The White Tower : Yes.That was what the Sentinel--because it was the Sentinel, she was sure--was telling her. She looked up at the impassive face, high forehead, and full expressive lips. Those large stone eyes under half-closed lids stared ahead and lichen bloomed on the high cheekbones. There were no words from those lips, of course, the mouth was still. But what she heard, deep in the recesses of her mind, was a language, nonetheless. It was the sound of wings beating, the rush of air through the lungs.Livy gulped the night deep into her chest and felt how the air was not held in her lungs, but was absorbed into every part of her body. She felt herself dissolve the weight of her body and mix herself with the air.Should she?Putting one foot back up onto the ledge, then the other, Livy steadied herself as she stood up. She put one foot forward now, into the air, as if a bridge had appeared before her. Livy smiled and thought about the boy in the window and how she had been worried when he had looked so serene. How stupid she had been! Of course the boy would be happy standing on top of the towerhe had only to step forward and the air would support him. She, too, would step into the air, would feel it become solid under her feet.Livy looked back at the Sentinel. He looked so noble, so brave, so sure. He seemed entirely alive and weightless even though he was cut from stone.The air swept up from the ground below. She felt it climb up her body, move over her and through her. It became solid and she knew she could lean against it, tipping even farther forward. It was as if her body was dissolving into the air. The feeling of being both lighter than the air, but somehow the very air itself made the blood jump in her veins."I don't need wings," she laughed, "or clouds to step on."Livy put her arms out in front of her.She closed her eyes--one breath more--and stepped forward.

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