Bitterlich would have preferred that lesson for later. The first change into an actual other form of life could be nearly as traumatic as the Wild Hunt, especially if that form was particularly alien, but Rebecca was eager, and if her fascination could carry her past that obstacle, it was one less thing to dread later.

He said, “Okay, but first a few things not to be afraid of. First, the transformation will feel very odd, like dissolving, and for a moment in the middle, you might not feel like you’re there anymore. When you reach that point, you just have to keep pulling your thread. Second, the wyrm is bigger than you are, so you’ll have to pull really hard.”

She tapped herself in the chest, “You mean that string you put inside me.”

“Yes.” He said, “Third—”

But Rebecca’s gaze had gone unfocused and her body blurred around the edges as she pulled on her wyrm shape.

“Be careful. Keep the pull steady,” Bitterlich said.

“Oh bolloooxxssshhhh…” Rebecca’s voice faded to a wheeze as her body boiled up, bubbling, churning, and expanding into the form of a ghostfire wyrm, as thick around as a man and three times as long, all shimmering scales and razor-sharp teeth floating weightless in the aether. She squirmed in the air, grunting and snapping her jaws.

“Third,” Bitterlich continued dryly, “you may not be able to talk, or hear properly.” It took a great deal of practice to be able to retain those two abilities in an alternate form. Did wyrms even have ears? Despite having lived most of his life on the coast, he’d never taken a deep interest in the creatures of the sky.

Rebecca flailed around, twisting herself into a corkscrew. She snapped at a stanchion and got her teeth lodged in the wood. She thrashed even more furiously, all four eyes going wild as she sought to dislodge herself.

“Rebecca, turn back!” Bitterlich urged. He mimed pulling the string again. “Turn back!” A form as alien as this one needed a great deal of thought and planning and practice to master. “Pull the thread.”

Rebecca’s gaze fixed on him, her gaze perplexed.

“One thing,” he said. “Concentrate on just one thing. Pull the string the other way.”

Rebecca’s wyrm eyes unfocused and her form roiled and settled back to her new normal. Rebecca hovered in the air for a moment, then stretched for the ground and landed on her feet. The deck had come level at last, but she swayed as if she could not decide which way was up.

“Bleeding bollocks, that were odd,” she said. “Everything was gray, except it weren’t, and the shadows were all wrong, and I didn’t have arms or legs. It was like being rolled up in a blanket ’cept I couldn’t shake loose.”

Bitterlich held out his hand and she took it to steady herself.