Home > Imprudence (The Custard Protocol #2)(111)

Imprudence (The Custard Protocol #2)(111)
Author: Gail Carriger

“Course not!” Rue grinned at her. “Stay as long as you like. I’m sure Formerly Floote will love that.”

“I won’t be a burden?

“Goodness no! You’re handy with your medical herbs, fluent in various languages, and accustomed to floating. We’re lucky to have you. Primrose will put you on the roster. Won’t you, Prim? Assign permanent quarters and whatnot? Oh, and we have a resident ghost now. You’ll need to decide where to install his tank so that he has the most shipboard access. Quesnel will help with that.”

Prim held up a hand. “We need food, Rue.”

“And fuel,” Percy said. For some reason he was looking particularly pleased about something. He was letting the Custard drift and not running the propeller any more.

“How long do we have before both are exhausted?” Rue snapped to business.

“Two days.” Prim knew without having to check her ledger.

“Four with minimal use. One and a half at full power.” Percy didn’t call the boiler room; no doubt he, too, had already checked.

It’s like we’re a proper dirigible crew at last! Rue was secretly delighted, but she did give their situation some thought.

She came to a decision. “We make for the aetherosphere.”

“Rue, it’s uncharted,” Percy protested, but his hand was already hovering over the puff button.

“So we chart it. Find something that takes us, what, eastwards? Where do you think the nearest major city is?”

“Zanzibar,” said Percy promptly. “But that’s the other side of Kilimanjaro.”

“Zanzibar it is.”

Naturally, he found them a current. Percy may be a pill of particularly fine vintage, but he was awfully good at navigation. He was ridiculously pleased with himself as a result, making murmurs about reporting his new current to the Royal Geologic Society and whether he could convince them to name it the Tunstell Thoroughfare.

Nearly everyone who could be spared went to bed the moment they hit the grey, leaving Percy and a skeleton crew up top in case anything more went wrong. Miss Sekhmet, of course, was dead to the world regardless. Formerly Floote stayed trapped in the ghost holder while they were in the aetherosphere. Everyone else went willingly to their respective beds.

Except Rue. Rue went to Quesnel’s bed.

They’d moved him back from engineering to his improvised sickroom, much to his disgust. Rue promised he could go back to his platform in the boiler room once he got some sleep.

They were both beyond exhausted.

Rue insisted Quesnel take a little more laudanum because he was back to looking positively awful. He agreed to a dram only after she settled on the bed next to him, trying not to jostle him.

“Where are we off to now?” He snaked his good arm around her, tugging her close against his side, and began stroking her tangled hair in a meditative way.

“Zanzibar, we hope. We’ll catch a restock and a refuel there.”

“And then?”

“Got us a stateroom full of prisoners. I’ll turn them over to the German authorities as poachers. Except my dear cousin. He’s staying with us.”

“Oh yes?”

“What, shouldn’t I get to know my family better?” Rue gave a vicious smile.

“And by get to know I’m assuming you mean with a few sharp objects? Try not to cut off anything important.”

“I don’t like being hunted. I thought I might take the time to instruct him as to how much I don’t like it.”

“That’s my sweet gentle girl. And then?”

“Exploring. If there are werelionesses and weremonkeys, what else might there be out there?”

“Other kinds of vampires, like the Rakshasa.” He wasn’t trying to put a dampener on her enthusiasm – just trying to keep her realistic.

“Eww. Yes, but also new and amazing creatures we haven’t even dreamed of! Immortals lost to myth and history and… Oh, it will be such fun.” Rue’s zeal was arrested by a sudden fear. She turned against his side and leaned up on an elbow to look into those amazing violet eyes.

“You’ll stay?”

When Rue had first pulled together a crew, she promised the officers it would only be temporary.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“You’ll have to fix this kefuffle with Percy.”

“He’s staying?”

“He likes this life. Won’t ever admit it, but he does. Secretly always had a flair for drama and adventure, despite his hermit tendencies.”

“And Primrose?” The poppy was starting to slur his speech. “What a silly question. Of course she is staying.”

“She still claims to be engaged. We’ll have to settle that when we return to England. But for now, yes.”

“Which means Tasherit is staying.” Quesnel smiled at her.

“And Anitra.” Rue smoothed back his hair, the strands soft against her fingertips. “And Formerly Floote.”

“About Percy. We’ve come to an agreement.”

“Anything to do with his wearing your wrist emitter? You know he saved my life with that thing.”

“As he should. We’ve agreed to co-publish. Of course, we can’t decide on who gets to be first in the byline, but… ”

Rue laughed.

“So you do want me to stay, chérie?”

“For as long as you’re willing.”

He smiled. His eyelids were beginning to close whether he willed it or not. The robins and their feathers were pressing in. “I have a great deal more to teach you. Years and years worth.”

   
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