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.


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