Rue fancied she sensed a certain reluctance to go below, which was ridiculous, of course. Quesnel was simply an emotional Frenchman who had thought her dead and reacted as he would a missing sister.

He gave her a cheery smile. “Delighted you retrieved your parasol, captain.”

Rue looked down at the item in question. “Oh, yes, me too. Gift from my mother. Hideous, of course, but it has sentimental value.”

“Of course it does.” Quesnel looked at the parasol as though it hid some secret and then he disappeared below.

Rue turned to her topside crew, giving Percy the nod. “Prepare for float-off, Professor Tunstell.”

She then put down her parasol and lifted the speaking tube.

Aggie Phinkerlington said, “Yes?” sharply from the other end.

“Mr Lefoux will be with you shortly. Prepare for float-off.”

“You shouldn’t scare him like that, miss,” remonstrated the mechanic.

“I beg your pardon!” Rue was genuinely shocked at a reprimand from an underling.

The greaser did not seem to care that Rue took offence at the intrusive comment, compounding insult with instruction: “Next time, don’t be so impetuous.”

Rue hung up the speaking tube without reply, afraid she might say something unforgivable.

“Well, I say!” said Rue to no one in particular.

Percy looked up from twiddling his knobs and levers. “Gave you a talking to, did she?”

“Are you going to lecture me as well?”

Percy, blast him, took that as permission. “You’re captain of a ship now, Rue. You can’t go tearing off willy-nilly like you did when I was in short pants.”

“Wonderful. You are going to have at me.”

Percy rolled his eyes. “Next time, think about your actions before you take them, all right? You don’t have werewolf or vampire skin to fall back on. Up here in the skies, you’re as mortal as the rest of us.”

Rue bristled. Was he implying that she used her metanatural abilities as a crutch to get out of sticky situations?

Percy went back to preparing for float-off, so Rue turned to her last and best ally, Primrose.

Prim was looking inscrutably placid.

Rue knew that expression all too well. “Really, you too?”

Prim arched one eyebrow.

“Oh, bother,” said Rue. “We’ll talk about this later, after the hops. I do have an excuse.”

“Darling,” said Prim. “You always have an excuse.”

Rue ignored this. “Percy, what’s our course looking like?”

Percy grimaced. “I hate to do it, but our best option is the Tripoli Twister. The Damascus Draw is smoother and more reliable but that’ll add an extra day to the journey, possibly two.”

Rue grinned. After being roundly scolded for taking unnecessary risks, she was obstreperous enough to stay with the theme. “Twister it is. Get the Pudding Probe up and calibrated.”

Percy’s face was blank. “I guessed you’d say that. The Mandenall is already set. Shall we proceed?”