Cole in the slipstream

  Cole jumped in.

  The shrill whistling of the slipstream gained the overwhelming fury of a hurricane. Beneath it, behind it, the gorgeous call of the Other sang of home. The mix was exhilarating and peaceful. He felt a tremendous urge to close his eyes and zoom to the source of that beautiful music.

  Not yet. Maybe later.

  He had somebody to rescue first.

  Swimming forward, Cole caught sight of Tessa up ahead. As he stroked downstream, she resisted the current. Their combined efforts allowed him to gain on her.

  “Tessa!” he shouted, the word lost in the howling symphony of the slipstream.

  Head bobbing above and below the surface, Cole struggled to keep her in view. The slipstream blurred all around him, a streaky gale of fog and tinsel. It was hard to tell if he was floating or flying—the ether had more substance than wind but less than water. He refused to inhale the substance, grateful that breathing wasn’t necessary in the echolands.

  Tessa drew near. Heaving himself forward, Cole wrapped his arms around her. They both sank. His feet began clipping the rocky floor of the channel. With their combined weight, he couldn’t get his head back above the surface. His feet kept striking the channel floor. Gritting his teeth, Cole absorbed several impacts until he slowed enough to plant his feet against some firm rocks.

  Tessa clung to him. He held her close and leaned against the wailing might of the slipstream. It took all his strength to hold steady. He could feel that if he lifted a leg to take a step, he would be washed downstream.

  Squinting against the fury of the slipstream, frantic music shrilling in his ears, Cole tried to get his bearings. The near side of the channel was a sheer wall. There would be no wading out. It would require a climb.

  Looking up, he found that the slipstream wasn’t horribly deep where he stood. If he raised his hands over his head, his fingers would break the shimmering surface.

  “Let me go!” Tessa cried, her words barely audible. “I’m not afraid!”

  “I have to save you!” Cole yelled back.

  “It’s too late!” Tessa shouted. “Nobody returns from the slipstreams.”

  Cole saw a shape leaning out over the surface of the slipstream. Distorted as it was by the rushing ether, it took Cole a moment to recognize the form as Sando. His shapecrafters were holding one arm so he could lean out over the ether, his free hand outstretched toward the surface.

  Cole felt a thrill of excitement. If he could lift Tessa high enough, Sando would be able to pull her out. Maybe she could still survive this!

  When Cole tried to speak again, he found he had used up all his breath on his previous shouts. He didn’t need to breathe to live, but air was still necessary to push words out. Ducking his chin, Cole inhaled through his nose and discovered the ether was breathable. Inside his nostrils, it felt much more like air than water.

  “You have to live!” Cole hollered, unsure whether she could hear him.

  “They’ll use my power!” Tessa replied, her words barely audible. “I don’t want more people to get hurt!”

  “Dandalus doesn’t think anyone can use your power!” Cole yelled. “And I agree! I saw Thunder. I’m handing you up!”

  “Let’s float away!” Tessa called out. “All this will be over!”

  “No!” Cole insisted.

  “It felt right to jump in here!” Tessa cried.

  “It felt right to save you!” Cole replied.

  “That doesn’t mean . . . ,” Tessa started. The slipstream shrilled in his ears throughout her pause. “Well, maybe.”

  “Someone can still save you!” Cole called, happy to hear her wavering.

  “He’ll take me to Nazeem!”

  “Get away! Be strong! Make their plans backfire! Get rescued!”

  “All right!” Destiny relented.

  “Let go of me!” Cole yelled.

  She released her hold, and Cole heaved her upward. Sando leaned farther forward, Tessa’s arms broke the surface of the slipstream, and suddenly, she was pulled up and away. In a blink, Sando and Tessa were no longer in view. Only the whooshing ether remained.