[Well, he's certainly trying hard to sell this, between the hysterics and spoon interference. Her eyes narrow as thoughts churn in her head—thoroughly. Mòrag doesn't speak for several seconds.]

[This Torna man's just as lost as she is in this bizarre world, isn't he?]

There's no question of your skill, I'll concede that. And... it's true that I haven't felt a trace of Brighid's ether since awakening here. [Small, exasperated sigh.] As... absolutely loath as I am to admit it, perhaps you are right.

['The devil you know,' and all that. Her posture straightens and she clasps her hands behind her back at ease, but the glare and tension in her shoulders remain. It's a reminder; this is not a friendly alliance.]

Need I mention the consequences, if I do find out you're planning something?