Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 616
Calandria felt dizzy. Must be the air, she thought
abstractly. Her knees felt weak, but she willed herself to stay
standing. What had the swan just said to her? Use her?
"How?" she tried to say. It came out as a gasp.
"First, you must cease to be pathological," said the swan.
It gestured with one fiery hand. The morphs stepped forward.
"Oh no." The morphs’ eyes glittered like water-polished
stones. They surrounded her, muttering to one another,
slapping their greasy hands on their thighs.
A hand closed on her neck and instantly, a wave of
numbness spread down her arms. Calandria tried to fight, but
all she saw was the black floor of the aerostat coming up to
meet her, with the crowding shadows of the morphs overlaying
one another.
"Kill me!" she hissed. Then her mouth would no longer
work. She felt herself being pulled and tugged around; her
cheek dragged along the floor. Wet tearing sounds
accompanied the tugs. After a moment she was dragged across
a patch of dark liquid that stank like iron.
She closed her eyes, and wept for all the missed
opportunities of her life.