“Don’t do overmuch,” hissed Sophronia, her nose pressed to the glass in worry. “Monique will notice. Move off now, move off!”

Monique, occupied with tea, argument, and newspaper, nevertheless shifted and gave Soap a sharp look just as the tall, lanky sootie obeyed Sophronia’s silent order and moved on down the platform.

Then the young gentleman looked up, noticed the sweeper, and yelled sharply.

Run! Sophronia suppressed the urge to scream out of the train.

Soap turned back and ambled toward Monique and her companion, dragging the broom casually behind him.

Everyone in the coach held their breath, even Felix, who didn’t give two figs if Soap got caught. He was no doubt worried that Soap might give them away. Felix probably believed that sooties had no honor.

Instead of grabbing him, or yelling for the constable, or making any other threatening movement, the man signaled Soap forward.

Monique ignored Soap entirely.

The man asked Soap something, hands spread.

Soap shook his head.

The man got upset, throwing his paper down to the ground in annoyance.

Soap tipped his hat at them politely and returned to sweeping.

Monique and her associate abandoned their teacups on the bench and returned to the train.

“Drop!” hissed Sophronia.

Watching from the coach door window, they all ducked as Monique faced them for a moment. Had she seen the balloon basket on the roof?

Apparently not.

The stowaways popped back up in time to watch the man hand Monique into the cab before returning to the transmitter carriage.

They turned away in time to see Soap reach down and swig the leftover tea.

Felix and Dimity both made noises of disgust. Imagine drinking someone else’s leavings? How humiliating!

Then Soap hurriedly swept the rest of the platform, before disappearing ’round the front of the train.

SESSION 10: TRAIN-NAPPING

Sophronia trusted in Soap’s abilities to get back on board, but she was impressed with his speed. He reappeared only a few minutes later, squirming through the window, looking chipper and pleased with himself. Also, he was bolstered by pilfered tea.

Sophronia couldn’t help glancing at Felix. She knew that all he saw was a dark-skinned boy who drank someone else’s leavings, like a beggar. She felt hot behind the ears. Why had Soap done such a thing in front of everyone?

She shook it off. She might have done it herself, if no one had been watching. She was that in need of tea.

“What did you hear?” she asked.

“They were arguing over the morning paper. She said something about the need for greater range. He said that range was never discussed. She said that didn’t matter, that they would get blamed regardless and that she would make sure they knew he was at fault. Then he waved the paper and said he’d made it possible to get this far. Then she said it wasn’t their choice to question orders and that they would have to keep trying. That was it.”

“What did he say to you, when you spoke directly?” asked Sophronia.

“That was the strangest part. He asked about the mechanicals in Oxford.”

“The mechanicals? Why, are they not working?”

“That’s just it, he didn’t explain.”

“So what did you say?”

“I asked if I looked like my family could afford mechanicals. He got hot under the collar and said he thought I might pay attention to the world around me and threw the paper on the ground. Then the driver signaled for them to get back aboard.”

Sophronia nibbled her lip in thought.

Soap looked disappointed, as if he wanted something more from her than just lip nibbles. Then again…

“I brought you a present.” With a flourish, Soap pulled the morning paper out of his shirt front. He must have lifted it while drinking the tea and stashed it when they ducked for cover.

Sophronia grinned. His drinking the abandoned beverage was entirely forgiven.

“Good on you!” said Sidheag, slapping Soap companionably on the back.

Both Felix and Dimity looked askance at such familiarity. Dimity was concerned with Sidheag’s dignity, Felix with the dignity of the peerage. Lady Kingair should not go around touching sooties!

Sidheag was oblivious. “What does it say?”

Soap handed the Oxford Whistler to Sophronia without answering.

Sophronia opened it eagerly, reading the headlines. There was an announcement of the wedding of Jemima Smackadee to Wilfred Corkin, some threatened occupation of the Danubian Principalities, and concerns over staff repairs. It was frustrating; nothing seemed directly tied to the conversation Soap had overheard, nor the aetherographic transmitter on the train.

Dimity sat next to her on the bench, reading as well. Felix and Sidheag took the opposite side of the paper. Sophronia held it up so they could all read at once, scanning for relevant information. Soap, without having to be asked, took up a position at the door to keep watch. After lessons with Sophronia, he could read a little, but not well. He was only on the second-level primers.

The train lurched and began to pull out of the station.

Sophronia caught Sidheag’s eye. If they didn’t go northward, then they’d be headed to London. Sidheag would blame Sophronia for their not switching trains. Sophronia knew it and accepted responsibility. Sidheag ought to have been her priority. They should have gotten off along with Soap and left Monique and the vampires to their own devices. They could have pooled their resources to pay for a northbound ticket for Sidheag without them. But now?

Sophronia admitted to herself that perhaps she was following this new trail of intrigue because it might delay Sidheag’s departure. The more she thought about it, the more she worried about her friend’s choice. Should Sidheag really hole up with a pack of traitorous werewolves? Chugging across the countryside with an aetherographic transmitter might give Sidheag a chance to rethink her options. Then again, if I were in Sidheag’s shoes, I wouldn’t want anyone to delay me or question my judgment. Feeling guiltier, Sophronia went back to reading the paper.

Felix, sitting opposite her, leaned all the way forward to read the fine print. Did he need glasses? That was sweet. He reached out to straighten a corner of the paper, brushing her fingertips. She caught his eye around the side and he gave one of his little half smiles. She was trying to decide how to respond when his attention diverted back to reading and his face went ashen.

“What did you find, Lord Mersey?”

“It could be nothing.…” He flipped the paper and pointed out an announcement box. Sidheag came around the other side of Sophronia, and the three girls read the small section together.

“Well, ladies?” prodded Soap from the door.

Sophronia read out. “‘The mechanical manufacturers Messrs. Brine, Boottle, and Phipps very much regret the minor malfunction of servant units experienced by the residents of northern Wiltshire last night. Housekeepers are advised that a return of the steam tax for the time period in question will appear during the next accounting cycle. Please accept our profound apologies for any inconvenience.’”

“That’s what they call a bunch of mechanicals singing ‘Rule, Britannia!’ and then dying? A minor malfunction?” Dimity scoffed.

Sophronia said, “I wonder if the breakdown has spread to Oxford and that’s why none of the station ones were working. If it happened after last night’s incident, this paper would already have been in production. We’ll have to check the evening rags for another apology.”