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Euna lifted her head, peering around her cautiously as if judging a trap. The heavy fall of her silver-blond hair disguised her wretchedness, but Morgan noted the sagging defeat of her shoulders, the uncontrollable shaking.
She crawled to her, freeing Euna’s hands. Pulling the other woman into a reassuring embrace.
She gathered the ruin of her gown over her chest. Tremors shook her body, her teeth chattering as if she were freezing. But it lasted only minutes. Then she looked up, her eyes hard with a bravery Morgan had glimpsed in memory, but thought lost forever under the stern protectiveness of Sir Joshua. Euna seemed to gather herself together, swallow her shocked terror.
Something in Morgan’s expression must have given away her unspoken question. Because Euna shook her head, her eyes drilling the corpse of the dead man as if she’d love to put her own bullet in him.
“It’s not true. They didn’t hurt me.” Her gaze fell as she lifted a hand to her breast, before letting it fall. Unable to touch her scar. The slur she’d bear forever. “At least not the way they said.”
Before Morgan could comment, Euna scanned the wreckage of the canal bed. “Will he be back?”
“Not likely. He’s crawled into a hole to lick his wounds.”
Morgan hated to admit it, but after that display of power, her dagger probably hadn’t killed Doran. Simply slowed him down. Made him mad.
Euna’s gaze narrowed. “Where’s Brodie?”
Morgan didn’t know for certain, but she’d a good idea and it didn’t bode well for the captain. “He’s been taken.”
“In my place?” Euna asked, a tremble returning to her voice.
Morgan could think of only one reason Doran would bother with Brodie. But to explain why to Euna was impossible.
“I don’t know,” she said, hating the lie on her tongue. If anyone deserved the truth after living through what she had, it was Euna Sinclair. But Morgan would leave it to Cam to fill in the blanks. She needed to track Doran while the trail remained fresh and burned into her skull. But where was Cam? He should have been down here as soon as the spell had dissolved. As soon as his sister had been freed. A plunging stab of fear hit her with enough force to throw her back on her heels.
“Stay here. I’ll be back.”
Euna looked like she wanted to argue, but again she gathered her strength. Nodded.
Morgan rose, her eyes searching out Cam’s position. “Cam?” she shouted, but no voice returned her call.
Picking her way through the wreckage, she climbed up from the half-completed lock. The path treacherous with shifting dirt, loosened scree that broke and tumbled beneath her feet. She adjusted her steps. The shot had come from this direction. Up. Left. Dodge a hole. Push through a tangle of rope and crates and busted barrels.
And there it was. The rifle, lying abandoned. A smoothed place in the dirt where someone had rested. Waited. And been dragged away.
She knelt, gleaning what she could from the marks. The second man coming from behind. The unexpected attack.
Fighting panic, she followed the broken route away from the lip of the canal, her eyes burning, her throat closing around a dry choking fear. And just as she half expected, the trail ended. Cam and his captor disappeared.
Fisting her hand around her sword, she looked up, the wall of the city looming above her like a tidal wave, the sounds and smells and pounding energy of its millions flooding her senses. Drowning her power.
And now Doran had two.
Morgan knew it was wrong. Knew she should accompany Euna to the door. Hand her off to her aunt and uncle with explanations and assurances. But she’d no time for either. Not if she was going to track Doran. Find Cam and Brodie. Save them from Neuvarvaan.
Uncle Owen’s premonition rose up, hitting her with the force of a blow. Her only solace his other admission that no future was writ in stone. She could alter fate if she hurried.
Oh, and why not just hold back the tides, rope the moon, and single-handedly align the stars while she was at it?
Euna seemed to understand her impatience. She stopped Morgan at the corner. Squared her shoulders. Lifted her chin. The fith-fath Morgan had flung over the other woman had gotten them this far, but Euna would have to cross the last few yards alone. Exposed.
Euna mustered the tattered edges of a smile. “I’m not the china doll you think me.”
Morgan raised a surprised brow. Cocked her head, seeing Euna in a different light. “What will you tell your family? There will be questions. Not to mention…” Her unthinking gaze fell on Doran’s mark.
Unspilled tears shimmered in Euna’s eyes. Tears she fought to hold back. She gave a quick up-and-down of her shoulders. “Truly? I don’t know.”
Then with a slap of torn skirts and a duck of her head, she flung herself away from Morgan. Out of her shadow. Up the street. And into the supposed safety of her home.
