The feeling of soaring among the clouds had been exhilarating; addictive.
And to be honest, Korvos wasn't even sure how long he'd been up here ... free, like a bird.

Feeling safe in a way that he'd never felt before, he rode the air currents with the ease and natural grace of a Kasirutan galley upon the open seas.  But his heart trembled and beat awfully fast if he started to wonder what the hell was happening to him.

It had all happened so very fast.  The Panopticles, the attack ... his (literal) flight from that inevitable and inescapable trap.
It was confusing and exciting and ... what?  Too many feelings, too many thoughts and fears and questions.
Yet, he was safe.  Miles above the land below, they couldn't touch him any longer.

Far to his left, he could see the city lights and industrial fires of Rakovka.  To the right, he could make out the rivers that flowed past Gyorok in the Raktine Confederacy.
Truth was, the world was at his feet ... spread out below him there for the taking.
Truth was, could he ever be bound again?