Madeleine quickly put a hand over her mouth, but wasn’t fast enough to hide her smile. “Nothing.”

“There’s a procedure to follow,” Hæra said in exasperation.

“I know.” Madeleine cleared her throat and appeared serious. Her eyes still sparkled, though. At least she didn’t look green about the gills anymore. “I’m sorry, Captain. Proceed.”

“You know,” Hæra said, “for someone who gets in a flap about how dangerous these planes are, you’re awfully cavalier about this.”

“I’m just covering up my nerves, trust me. I’m curious about what the evacuation plan is.” Madeleine prodded her window. “This, I assume.”

“Only if the ejector seat doesn’t work,” Hæra said, straight-faced.

“Ha-ha.” Madeleine’s eyes widened. “Wait. Really?”

“We anticipate a cruising altitude of eight thousand feet,” Hæra continued. “And a flight time of approximately an hour and a half. The fire extinguisher is mounted to the wall behind your seat. Our belongings are already stored in the baggage area, so there’s nothing to say about that. Any questions?”

“One. You’re joking about the ejector seat, right?”

“Let’s hope you don’t have to find out.” Hæra pretended to reach for the ignition and laughed when Madeleine wailed and grabbed her wrist. “Yes! I’m joking.”

Madeleine huffed and let her go. “Safety is no laughing matter.”

“You’re right.” Hæra pushed a lock of hair back behind her wife’s ear. “Especially yours. Not to me.”

Madeleine’s outraged look softened, and she held Hæra’s hand to her cheek for a moment. “Glad to hear it. I’m scared stiff, but still excited. And ready for liftoff.”

Hæra would explain the difference between “takeoff” and “liftoff” during the flight. Surely Madeleine would find it fascinating. “Not yet, you’re not. Here.”

She offered Madeleine the passenger headset. Madeleine’s eyes widened. This part seemed to delight her, judging by her gleeful smile as she donned the headset. “Gosh, this feels so official.”

“It’s standard-issue gear.”

“It’s not standard for me.” Madeleine tapped the handles of the passenger-side yoke. “I get my own steering wheel?”

“You do not,” Hæra said sternly. She put on her own headset. “Don’t touch anything. Sit on your hands if you’ve got to.”

“What a grouch.” Madeleine settled back in her seat and took in a deep breath. Then she exhaled heavily. “How do you turn this thing on?”

“The same way I turn you on.” Hæra reached for the ignition again. “With a steady touch and fine attention to detail.”

The engine roared to life. The propellers began to spin. Madeleine’s voice sounded tinny over the headset when she said, “I’ll hold you to that tonight.”