Rue continued, “We need only get along for this one mission. If everything goes smoothly, we should be home in less than a month. Then we can all go our separate ways. Agreed?”

They all looked at one another.

Primrose said quickly, “Agreed.”

Quesnel crossed his arms over his grey waistcoat and leaned back. “Agreed.”

They all turned to look at Percy. “Very well,” the redhead said reluctantly. Then he added, “I suggest we catch the morning current. The Gibraltar Loop should be over London at about nine.”

Rue and Prim looked at him, askance. Neither of them had ever been up before eight in the morning, except on those few occasions when they were viewing that untenable hour from the other side. Being raised by vampires and werewolves made one quite nocturnal.

“Not possible. Dama has a bon voyage party planned for after sunset. I think perhaps two hours or so after that is a superior departure time.”

“And I must make the rounds this afternoon, leave my card,” added Primrose.

“Why?” Percy asked, genuinely confused.

“Oh really, Percy. One cannot simply leave town without telling people. It’s not done.”

Percy shook his head at the ridiculous politeness of it all and consulted his maps and timetables. “That’s not ideal, but we could catch a lesser current and hook up with the loop over the mainland here.” He stopped talking and began calculating, completely ignoring them all.

Primrose put down her tea-cup. “Well, Rue, if there’s nothing else —?”

“Of course. Very well. Dismissed.”

Quesnel left with alacrity, doffing his hat and winking at Prim.

Percy didn’t look up.

Rue decided to leave him to it. She walked Primrose down the gangplank and saw her back into her carriage. There was something off about her friend’s attire. An under-used part of Rue’s brain, the part that belonged to Dama’s drones, was bothered by her friend’s outfit. But since Primrose never made mistakes in fashion, Rue ignored her inner drones and returned to ensuring all was shipshape.

Rue was at dinner in the stateroom at around midnight when Primrose returned to the ship. Footnote had found his way over from the library and graced her lap with a purr. This was most likely due to the delicious smells coming from her plate but Rue was disposed to be honoured by his presence. She had thought to return home to Dama’s that night but with so much to do, and a cat in her lap, it seemed easier to stay aboard and test out the facilities in a dry run. Kill two pigeons with one stone, as it were.

“Oh, Prim,” she said, looking up from her manifest, “I forgot you’d be back. Would you like some supper? Shall I ring for…?” She trailed off. “What on earth is the matter?”

Prim’s face was a picture of distress.