Back at the Au Petit Suisse, Camille found Ada had returned already, leaving Olympe to sleep in their rooms above. The short summer night had finally fallen and the bells pealed out the small hours of the morning, but the battalion were still riding high on the rush of their close escape. Leaning over the table, eyes bright, Ada was explaining her hot air balloon flight with tiny twists of the ultra-fine paper the biscuits came wrapped in. First lighting them at one end, then sending them floating over the scattered dishes and glasses to land in their hair and on their plates. It seemed impossible that they had only launched the balloon that morning. Now something warm spread inside Camille as she slid into the chair beside Ada. She didn’t know how she’d been so lucky to find her. Ada had stuck with her long after it had all gone wrong, long after she had any right to expect. Being with her was like finding a tiny gap in the universe that was calm and warm and loving.

Al plucked one of the burning twists of paper out of the air and used it to light a pipe. He pointed the end at Camille, bowl aglow.

‘What are we doing about the science project upstairs? She’s gone to bed but I’m not sleeping in the same place as someone who could kill me as soon as I close my eyes.’

Guil took off his hat and balanced it on his knee. ‘We could all kill you in your sleep, Al. It would not be a difficult task.’

‘My god, was that a joke?’

Guil didn’t rise to the bait so Al turned to Camille.

‘The girl is too dangerous to keep around. Someone needs to take her off our hands sharpish.’

Camille glared at him. She was too tired for this.

‘We move her somewhere else as soon as we can. The Cordeliers looked clear when I checked it with Guil earlier. We’d have been saved a lot of bother if you’d taken the time to find out if the Duc de l’Aubespine actually had a daughter before we went crashing in there.’

‘Are you saying it’s my fault we’ve ended up with a hell beast in the parlour?’

‘I’m saying you have a role to play and you didn’t play it. Now we’re in over our heads.’

He knocked back his drink and slouched in his chair. ‘What do you want from me, an apology?’

‘No, I want you to do your damn job.’

‘So let’s do our job. Give Olympe to the duc and then this whole mess can be behind us.’

Camille pinched the bridge of her nose. She’d gone about this all wrong.