“I think so. If the Gargoyles can unhook the wings then the power to fly lies in the wings themselves, and not in the wooden bodies of the people who wear them. So, if we had the wings, we could probably fly as well as they do⁠—as least while we are in their country and under the spell of its magic.”

“But how would it help us to be able to fly?” questioned the girl.

“Come here,” said the little man, and took her to one of the corners of the building. “Do you see that big rock standing on the hillside yonder?” he continued, pointing with his finger.

“Yes; it’s a good way off, but I can see it,” she replied.

“Well, inside that rock, which reaches up into the clouds, is an archway very much like the one we entered when we climbed the spiral stairway from the Valley of Voe. I’ll get my spyglass, and then you can see it more plainly.”