Another boom sounded from outside. A whole series of them, along with an explosion of a different tenor.

“Bomb. Hurry.”

“Dot!” Stealth was no longer really going to prove helpful, so Drake took off down the nearest aisle at a run. Praying with every footfall that none of those bombs crashed through this ceiling. “Dorothea!”

“Dot!”

“Dotty!”

“Over here!” Not Red or Camden—Dot herself, from the far side of the cavernous chamber. “Hurry! He’s long gone!”

Drake sprinted down the aisle, dodging a beam, nearly tripping over one of the heavy howitzer shells. He reached her a few seconds after Red, a few before Camden. Red had already pulled her up and given her a quick, fierce embrace by the time Drake skidded to a halt, trying to take stock of her in the moonlight while Red went to work on the ropes at her wrist. Camden crouched down with his knife at the ready to take care of the rope at her ankles.

“Are you injured? Did he hurt you?” Drake gripped her by the shoulders and tilted her face toward the window.

She shook her head. An odd answer, given the spatters of blood he saw on her cheek. “Drugged me, but he didn’t hurt me. We have to hurry though. He’s injured, but he’s been gone for at least twenty minutes.”

Waiting for them. He’d have fetched the codebook by now and be on his way out of the neighborhood. “Injured? How?”

Dot’s smile was a wisp of a thing. Fragile. Yet victorious. “He thought I was still unconscious there at the end, and I let him. When he removed the gag to give me more laudanum, I kicked him in the shin and sent him sprawling into the shells.” She nodded to where a few were indeed knocked over, something dark smearing them. “He was bleeding. Coughing fiercely. And holding his hand. I think one of the shells must have caught it somehow. I expected him to come at me then, but he ran out instead.”

“He wasn’t going to risk being here.” And neither should they. Drake pressed a kiss to her forehead while Red worked through the last of her bonds and then gripped one of her newly freed hands. “We need to get out. Fast.” He looked to Red. “The bloke by the door?”

Red shook his head. “Shot in the head.”

Dot winced. “He tried to stop him. He had come to sooner than expected, I think.”

Drake pressed his lips together. But there was nothing they could do for that man. And still much to do about the one who’d done it. He led the way to the nearest door, knowing Dot would rather have Red’s arm around her, leading her out, than his. “Do you know where he went?”