The howling goes on and on and Cinder screams along with it, roaring out the fire inside, thrashing against the bonds of air and darkness that stretch from some eternal distance.
And then it stops.
She remembers herself, but even before she’s back in the air, the thought rips across her: Cass.
The dragon twists, takes in the scattering birds and the blood and stink of magic, and dives, dives towards the two dots dwindling through the clouds.
She can see the earth, opening wide to meet them. They’re running out of air.
She’s too late.