She found the rest of her team huddled in the shelter of a general store a short ways into the town, Trace’s horn still glowing. She waved Bitterroot over. Her teeth were chattering, and she didn’t look happy. “We might’ve gotten her,” Trace said, glum in spite of the words. “We were crossing one of the bridges when Artemis spotted some unicorn light downriver. Gale shot at it and the light went out and it didn’t come back.” She took a shuddering breath. “And we don’t know where the body is.” She glared at Gale. “‘Let her go’, I said, ‘we won’t see if you actually hit her’, I said, ‘we can’t get to her quickly’, I said. And now, because of some trigger-happy lunatic — an actual, in-need-of-psychiatric-help lunatic, mind you — we might just be out six hundred grand!”