“Oh dear, good point. I do hope they don’t go blabbing.” Rue frowned, calculating the time. They had only three quarters of an hour left. How much harm could the crew do?

Quesnel nodded to the gaggle of staff still behind them. “I think most of them witnessed your antics.”

Rue wasn’t certain “antics” was a dignified way to describe a lady but before she could reprimand her chief engineer, Spoo stepped forward. “Yes, Chief Sir and Lady Captain. That was a pretty nice show you put on there.”

“Why, thank you, Spoo,” replied Rue.

“You’re all right, Lady Captain, but this one was a real corker.” Spoo gestured with her thumb at Primrose.

Prim smiled down at the small person in a queenly manner, causing the young sootie to blush. “Such accolades. I was born to carry on a theatrical legacy, but sadly fate had other plans for my family.”

“Fate or Egypt?” wondered Rue.

“There’s a difference?” Prim looked wistful. Egypt was where her mother had turned vampire. The girls knew few particulars, but they understand that everything had changed for everyone after Egypt, 1876.

Spoo said, not following, “I’ll make sure everyone knows who and what we are and what names we belong to while ’round the tower.”

“That is very much appreciated, Spoo,” replied Rue.

Spoo, after a quick hushed conversation with a few of the other sooties, scampered back to The Spotted Custard to waylay anyone else who might disembark or have cause for conversion with dockhands.

Rue and Prim exchanged a look. They were unused to having to widen the scale of their schemes. Adjustments must be made for this new course their lives had taken.

“We’ll plan better next time,” Rue assured her friend.

“Yes, I think we ought,” Prim agreed but was already distracted by their surroundings. “What a very odd sort of place this is.”

Quesnel moved forward to pat her arm reassuringly.

Primrose took it eagerly.

Rue felt a tiny pang but brushed it off as girlish silliness.

Someone dragged a noisy nanny goat past them. Across the way, two men with turbans argued in an exotic language about a clay figurine of a pregnant snake or possibly a cow without legs. One of them had a monkey sitting on his shoulder. Off to one side was a row of massive cages inside which paced tigers, hyenas, and other toothy carnivores. The Maltese Tower clearly did a brisk trade in exotic animals. A stall nearby displayed racks of valves and rows of sprockets in tempting stacked pyramids, as a fishmonger might lay out his wares.

Quesnel’s eyes lit up and he drifted in that direction.

Primrose, on the other hand, had spotted a promising-looking jewellery vendor and began to walk the other way.

Before they could get far, Rue grabbed each by the arm.

Quesnel looked down at her gloved hand on his sleeve. “What now, chérie?”