The green hangs around them like a cloud, and for a while, everything moves very slowly. Cass assesses.
The thing she’s grappling with has a smooth, pale face and all-black eyes. Her sword is through its chest; its blood is black. There’s a gash on her side. Cinder’s above; something passes between them, but dragons’ expressions are nigh unreadable, anyway. Jo’s freed himself from Cinder’s grasp, is perched on a claw, ready to leap.
One of the other bird-riders has a wand pointed at her.
The statue glows in her hand.
Also, oh yeah, they are 10,000 feet off the ground.