Only splinters remain of the coach, and it’s carried on a rapidly swirling wind that surrounds two figures.
Ember!
She stands at the eye of the vortex across from a woman I’m unfamiliar with. The woman is on her knees, hands over her ears. I glance to each side of the road. On one side, sprawls a man in a coachman’s uniform, scrambling away from the fray. Four horses, still tethered but disconnected from the coach, gallop toward the woods. On the other side, I find Brother Marus and the two girls I know as Ember’s lady’s maids.
Nyxia’s voice comes from beside me. “Did you know she could do this?”
“Not exactly.” In fact, it hadn’t occurred to me that Ember was responsible for what I’m seeing until just now. But of course she is. Her magic is everywhere, filling the air. If I listen carefully, I can even hear her voice. It isn’t a hummed tune or a sung melody. It sounds more like a…scream.
Another chill runs through me. With a shudder, I shift into my seelie form while maintaining my wings.
“What are you doing?”
“I have to help her.” I breathe in deeply, tasting fear and confusion. “She doesn’t know she’s doing this.”
“You’ll get hurt! Let me go. I’m incorporeal in this form. I can get through the whirlwind without injury.”
“No, she’s scared,” I say. “I can calm her. I know I can.”
“How will you even get through without being impaled?”
I assess the vortex again. It’s a cylinder of shattered wood, torn leather, and fractured metal, about three times Ember’s height. “I’ll fly above it and drop in through the eye.”
“This is a terrible idea.”
“You know I’m full of them.” I offer her a crooked smile, but I feel no mirth. No amusement. Only fear. Not for myself, though. For Ember.
“Be careful, Franco.”
I nod and head closer to the vortex. The nearer I draw, the faster the wind beats against me, and the harder my wings must work. I gain greater height to outfly the draft. Once I’m over the eye, I begin to lower inch by inch, stopping once I feel the tug of wind again. This is as close as I can get without risk of getting caught in the whirlwind. I assess the distance between me and the ground. It’s far, but I’m low on options. My only hope of getting to Ember is to drop straight through the eye.
My pulse quickens, and I taste my own flash of fear before I swallow it down. Then, with a deep breath, I dismiss my wings. In their absence, I fall fast. I plummet down, quickly gaining momentum as I drop through the center of the vortex. When just a dozen or so feet stand between me and the ground, I summon part of my unseelie form, like I do when I sprout my wings. This time, however, it’s feathers I conjure. Thousands of feathers that fight the pull of gravity without getting fully caught on the surrounding wind.
I land in a partial crouch between Ember and the woman. Pain shoots up my legs, but not as much as I’d feel if I hadn’t softened the blow with the resistance of my feathers. I seek out Ember at once, dismissing my feathers as I dart toward her. A searing pain ripples through one of my ankles, but I don’t falter. My fae healing is already taking place, knitting bone, connecting sinew. I take another step. Another. The wind speeds around us in a deafening roar of sound.
I stop just in front of Ember. She hovers a foot off the ground, her teal hair whipping wildly around her. Her skin has taken on a similar shade as her hair, but her body is no longer solid.
It’s ethereal.
Her eyes are wide, but she doesn’t seem to see me at all. Lips parted, she looks to be screaming, shouting. That’s when I realize the roar of sound is coming from her. It’s a solemn never-ending wail that fuels the wind.
I dare to step closer. “Ember! Can you hear me?”
She blinks, but her gaze remains unfocused. Unseeing.
“Ember, it’s me. It’s Franco. I’m here.”
Slowly, her eyes move to mine, a plea in them. Her chest heaves. “I don’t know what’s happening.” Though she speaks, her wail continues, laced through every word.
“It’s all right,” I say.
“Who’s doing this?”
I swallow hard. Keeping my voice gentle, I say, “You are, but I can help you.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not doing this. I don’t know what’s going on.”
“You’ve shifted forms, Ember. You’re unseelie right now, and I’m guessing this is your first time. I can help you shift back.”
