There were steps on the river side of the wall, leading down to a strand of exposed mud and pebbles, about ten yards wide. Federico bounced down them. A gull landed in the water before him and was promptly swept away by the current. Federico, with a yelp of joy, gave chase along the strand.

Lotti burst out laughing.

“Come on, let’s run!”

She tumbled down the steps after Federico to the edge of the Thames, and threw wide her arms to take a deep breath of salty, muddy London air. This was it—the end of the beginning, the start of the really big adventure! Tomorrow, the Sparrowhawk would take her place on this marvelous, powerful river, and all that was rotten about the past, Uncle Hubert and school bullies and pain and misery and loneliness would be swept away as surely as that gull.

She turned to Ben. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

Ben had followed Lotti down on to the strand and was staring at the river in fascinated horror.

“Wonderful,” he whispered.

“You’re afraid,” said Lotti, slipping her arm through his. “That’s normal. It’s huge, what we’re about to do. But it’s exciting too, Ben, it’s so exciting.”

“It is,” said Ben determinedly. “And I’m not afraid. The Thames is just like a big canal, really. It’s only water, and so’s the Channel. We can absolutely do this. But I think I’ll go back to the Sparrowhawk now. There’s a lot to do before tomorrow.”

He turned and walked back up the strand to the steps. Elsie lay on the wall, waiting for him. He crouched to pat her, and she gave his hand an affectionate lick as if telling him not to worry, then heaved herself after him down the street.

Lotti stayed on the strand a little longer and watched the Thames. Another gull sped past, bright against the filthy water, followed by the smashed remains of a barrel.

Ben was wrong. The Thames was many things—powerful, dirty, exciting, big—but it was nothing like a canal. Lotti thought back to childhood holidays, crossing the deep, heaving Channel with her parents to go to Armande.

The Channel was not only water.

Ben was afraid, whatever he said, and he was right to be.

After Ben had checked over every inch of the Sparrowhawk and made them both memorize her route again until they knew it by heart, they went to bed. Despite his nerves, Ben fell asleep almost immediately, but Lotti lay in her berth, listening to Elsie’s heavy breathing from the floor in the galley where she slept with Federico.

Her hand closed over her father’s ring.

“Bring us luck, Papa,” she whispered.