The lad did not look impressed.

Dimity came to her rescue, jumping down and then doing the same kind of tumble maneuver. She then climbed up onto Sophronia’s shoulders. It was a move they’d practiced in class, for reaching items stashed in high places, but weren’t very good at. Sophronia stumbled to hold her footing. Dimity waggled her hands around madly.

“It’s been a long day,” said Sophronia apologetically.

The carter’s eyebrows were still suspicious, but he was clearly pleased by their friendly manner. He offered up some useful information: “Hamlet probably not sized to do you any favors. Try up a few stops. There’s a market, end of this week, be a good spot for a carnival.”

“Thank you kindly!” chirruped Sophronia. “We may just do that.”

The lad doffed his hat and clicked his donkey into a lumbering walk.

Their inadvertent addition, Dusty the stoker, cleared his throat as the grumbling from the locomotive died down and the steam engine came to rest.

Sophronia looked at him, surprised into remembering that he was with them, not merely an extra feature of the stolen train.

Sidheag hadn’t forgotten him. “Is something wrong, Dusty?”

“Mr. Sid, sir, it’s only that we’re running low on coal. If you lads want to keep going, you’ll need to get fuel from somewheres, and this station’s not big enough to have reserves.”

“I’d better check the tender.” Soap disappeared behind the boiler. He came back a few minutes later, only to nod his agreement with Dusty’s assessment. Soap might be a novice train driver, but he had an excellent working knowledge of boilers and their coal consumption. He was also dragging a very dirty Bumbersnoot in his wake.

“Guess who’s eaten too much?”

Bumbersnoot was leaking steam out his carapace and steam out his ears and had a definite bloated appearance.

“Oh, Bumbersnoot, have you been eating all our reserves? Bad dog.”

Bumbersnoot’s ears sagged, guilty.

“Not a whole lot we can do about it now,” said Sidheag, protecting the mechanimal from Sophronia’s ire.

Sophronia sighed. “I hope he hasn’t damaged himself.” She put Bumbersnoot in a corner and tied his reticule straps to a nearby protrusion so he couldn’t eat any more of their precious coal. He did look unwell; it was troubling. “I should probably check his insides, but he’s running too hot to touch. Who’d like first watch?”

Soap said, “I’ll take it. What do you suggest, a regular walkabout, plus roof and skyline? Say every quarter hour or so?”

“If you’re sure you’re not too tired.” Sophronia really was worried about him. He looked so exhausted.

“I’d rather a solid block of sleep later.”

Sophronia said, “Very well, then, I’ll take second.”

Sidheag agreed to third and Dimity fourth. Dusty said he’d take fifth, unfamiliar with the division of two-hour watches.

Sidheag said kindly, “There is no fifth, but you’ve been doing all the stoking and aren’t even part of our operation. You should sleep the full night.”

“We’re most grateful for all your help, by the way, Mr. Dusty,” added Sophronia.

“And I’ll make it worth your while once we get to Scotland,” said Sidheag.

Dusty look embarrassed as everyone turned appreciative attention upon him.

“What would you like?” continued Sidheag. “Position at the castle?”

Dusty said, blushing, “Oh, now, Mr. Sid, I’m quite happy as a stoker.”

“Very well, then, we will try to arrange matters so our making off with this train doesn’t affect your stoking career in any detrimental manner,” said Sophronia.

Dusty looked confused by the long words but disposed to be amenable.

Monique said, from the doorway where she sat hunkered under Dimity’s watchful gaze, “You won’t be working for a vampire-run operation ever again, that’s for certain.”

Dusty looked ashamed.

“Don’t you worry,” said Sidheag, turning her nose up at Monique, “I’ll make certain the werewolves look after you.”

Dusty said, “Never knew I’d end up mixed up with the supernatural simply because I got to stoking the wrong train at the wrong time.”

“Good stokers are hard to come by,” said Soap, “valuable asset and don’t you forget it.”

Sidheag agreed with him, slapping Dusty on the shoulder, causing a puff of black dust to rise into the air.

“Thanks, lads,” said Dusty, dipping his head to hide his pleasure.

After that, they let themselves down and trailed off to various coaches. Now that they had all six carriages to themselves, they considered each occupying a separate coach in a kind of private hotel scenario. But in the end, they decided it was better to stick together. While Soap sat first watch, Monique safely trussed up in the cab, Dusty and Sidheag slept in one coach with Dimity and Sophronia in the next one down. They chose the carriage closest to the locomotive so that they could hear Soap shout if anything untoward occurred. Bumbersnoot stayed in the cab, where Soap could keep an eye on him and his overindulgence.

Dimity might have protested that Sidheag should not be alone with Dusty, even if it was a first-class conveyance, but as far as they could tell, Dusty still had no idea they were girls. Should anyone hear any details of this escapade, Sidheag’s reputation would be ruined, if being alone with Captain Niall hadn’t already done the trick. Sophronia was eager for a moment alone with Sidheag to learn more on that particular situation, as Sidheag and the good captain seemed to have gotten close. Unfortunately, Sophronia suspected even she didn’t have the necessary competence to extract information on Sidheag’s finer feelings from Sidheag. The girl could be remarkably tight-lipped. Frustrating, as other people’s finer feelings were fun to talk about.

After such an exciting day, Sophronia thought she would fall asleep easily, but her mind whirred like a mechanical. She stared up at the ceiling of the coach, thinking about the vampires, and Picklemen, and Felix, and Soap.

She thought Dimity was asleep already until her friend spoke into the silence. “Will Felix come back to you, do you think?”

“Oh, Dimity, he won’t do, not for me. I tried to make him over but he’s a dress in the wrong size no matter what I do.”

“But Sophronia, he’s a duke’s son.”

“He’s a Pickleman’s son.” And I regret letting him get close. Why was I so taken by those blue eyes? I wonder if, all along, it was Felix who thought he could change me.

“Not one for the Picklemen, then?”

“I simply feel that world domination is not my cup of tea. Is that shortsighted?”

“No. I thought you might decide against them.”

“You did, why?”

“They don’t feel Sophronia-ish. Something about those green-banded top hats. I mean, how silly would you look in a green-banded top hat?”

“No one said I would have to wear one. They shouldn’t have started with me right from the beginning, if they hadn’t tried for the prototype…”

“So are we going to work with the vampires in this? Join up with Monique?”