The Darkness grew first around Juan as if it were steam coming off his body, and suddenly—this moment always caught Tali by surprise—it shot off in all directions and became enormous and liquid—or, rather, lustrous. It was hard to look at it: darker than the night, compact, it hid the trees, the light from the candles, and as it grew, it lifted Juan up and he floated, suspended in the blackness of wings.
