The Saint Asne shuddered and bucked in sudden turbulence. Isabelle ran out on deck and gauged the storm, praying they hadn’t slipped out of their stable eddy. Instead, she found the sky had grown lighter, the gray tunnel disappearing before them. The shaking came as they passed through the storm’s inner wall into the calm air beyond. The mighty vortex, angered at their intrusion, lashed them with one last flurry of melon-sized hail before the brig slipped into open sky.

Relief washed through Isabelle so fast it made her dizzy. They’d made it. Even when she’d been in the escort’s shadow, she hadn’t been sure it would work. Saints only knew what other hazards waited in that storm.

Almost instantly the air grew warmer, and the green, earthy smell of the Miasma rolled up from the depths. Isabelle ordered the maneuver to take them out of the eddy and into free air, but did not draw an easy breath until they were well out of the Bittergale’s reach.

The Craton Auroborea swung into view, a wide smear of hazy green in the distance. She could hardly believe the witness of her senses. Jean-Claude was there, somewhere. He’d be at the Conquest if he possibly could. Her dizziness increased, and the whole world went gray around the edges. Her skin tingled, and every bit of fluff and feather stood on end. Then she twitched. It was like a sneeze or a whole-body seizure.

She found herself lying on the deck, Marie and Rebecca hovering over her.

“What happened?” Rebecca asked. “Is she hurt?”

“I don’t think so,” Marie said. “Just doing things the hard way, as usual.”

“Ungh,” Isabelle said wittily, and rubbed her face with her hand. Her hand, covered in skin instead of fluff, feathers, and scales. She stared at it in wonder. Her skin had taken on undertones of pink and purple. And her face felt like skin too.

Your transition is complete, Primus said, though you should not sheath your cappotto di piume in such perilous circumstances. He remained critical of her “weaknesses” but had ceased trying to force his way into her mind.

Rebecca helped Isabelle sit up.

“Water?” Marie offered, and Isabelle took a sip. The dizziness passed with each breath.

“I see you got your skin back,” Marie said.

“Yes,” Isabelle said. “The transformation is finished.”

“Ooh, can I see?” Rebecca asked.

“Don’t you think she should get a chance to see it first?” Marie said.

“In a moment,” Isabelle said. “We still have a ship to sail.”

Similce said, “We’re on course for the cratonic rim. I expect finding the Conquest will be a matter of finding the Potencia first.”

Isabelle stood. It felt like climbing a very tall ladder. “And then we have to deal with Travers.”

“If you want to get some rest, now is better than later, I’m thinking.”