At the sound of her language from another mouth - a mouth not Peter's - she brightened, almost became her own light source, and flung herself from the top of the wall. She landed in a crouch, then bounced up and ran to meet him in the street, the smile still bright on her face.
"I was also from another place. I was in die Festung, too - then here. But I do not know Boston. Where is Boston?"
Her pale green eyes were traveleing him eagerly. He seemed to her a welcome mystery. No one spoke the Divine Language - no one but her priests and Peter, who knew it from her own mind. But how had he known it?