“I have other options.” After the Pickleman revelation, Sophronia was looking favorably, once more, on Lord Akeldama. At least she knew he wasn’t a Pickleman!
Monique scoffed. “You are going to have to choose sides. We all do, in the end.”
Sophronia cocked her head. “Are you trying to recruit me?”
“Cut me down and I’ll consider putting in a good word with Countess Nadasdy.”
“Thank you for the thought, but I have a better vampire offer.” Sophronia was, however, in a quandary. What was she going to do now? Even if she told Lord Akeldama, would he put a stop to the Picklemen? The other vampires were doing a piss-poor job of it. Lord Akeldama didn’t seem the type to involve himself directly, which left… well… her.
Monique, having spoken her piece, corked up.
Sidheag and Dimity joined Sophronia in a huddle close to Soap, so they could discuss without being overheard.
“Options?” said Sophronia.
Sidheag said, “You know my wishes.”
“You can’t flog Monique, it’s not done at your age,” said Dimity, presuming as to Sidheag’s feelings.
Sidheag said, “No. Well, yes. A switch tickle would do her some good. But what I meant is that I want to continue on to Scotland. My pack needs me; that is the reason we started this whole thing.”
Sophronia nodded. “Soap, do you think you can make it all the way there on the back tracks without danger?”
“Birmingham and Leeds areas might give us stick. But if necessary we can stash the train and continue on in a more traditional manner.”
“Oh, yes, simply hide a whole train somewhere.” Even Sophronia was doubtful.
Soap smiled cheekily.
Dimity said, “Monique said it’s going to take the Picklemen a while to get all mechanicals installed with the crystalline valves. They must be ramping up valve production.”
Sophronia nodded. “After we get her to Scotland, if we sourced the factory site, we might be able to cause a delay in manufacturing.”
Dimity said, “We do need to get back to school eventually.”
“Can’t do anything substantial from there,” objected Sophronia.
“Do we have to do something substantial? Is this really our problem? What does it matter if Picklemen control mechanicals?” Dimity had already been kidnapped by vampires in the interest of subverting Pickleman interests. She was tetchy on the subject and preferred to remain out of it.
Sophronia said, “Just think, Dimity, what if they controlled the soldier mechanicals in our school? Mechanicals aren’t only servants, they can also be weapons. This is not something we can simply float away from and go back to studying poisoned tea. This is important.”
Dimity sighed. “But we do have time?”
Sophronia walked back to Monique. “What’s your best estimate on how long until the Picklemen control a usable majority of the nation’s mechanicals, given valve production and distribution times?”
Monique glared at her.
“Tell me and I’ll let you down.”
Monique narrowed her eyes. “Six months, a year at the outside. Mine was supposed to be a covert operation tracking their activities, designed to discover just such useful information. You messed it up.”
“Covert? In a train?”
“They didn’t realize, until you came on board.”
“That’s debatable,” Sophronia said, but cut Monique down with her bladed fan.
The blonde girl lowered her arms slowly, wincing from the pain.
Sophronia left Monique’s wrists bound together. Dimity took up a position, watchfully close. They couldn’t let Monique get into anything. However, the girl seemed more concerned with getting her shoulders back in order and making snide remarks about Dimity’s dreadful attire.
For the rest of the afternoon, Sophronia, Soap, and Sidheag concentrated on stoking the boilers and making certain the train kept up a steady pace. There were no switches for a while, so they clipped along smoothly and in relative peace. Soon the full moon rose over the horizon and night descended.
Sophronia distracted herself from thoughts of Felix by wondering if crashing a train into the Picklemen’s operation had managed to stall their dastardly plans all that much, or was it merely a minor inconvenience? Would more mechanicals be singing “Rule, Britannia!” soon or would it be months from now?
Before they lost daylight, Sophronia spent time tinkering with Bumbersnoot. Vieve had taught her how to pop open his casing to clean and oil him properly. She hadn’t noticed any changes after retrieving him from Madame Spetuna. But there was always the possibility that when he visited her and the flywaymen, they got hold of him and installed a tiny crystalline valve. Had he a voice box, Bumbersnoot could become their “Rule, Britannia!” canary in the coal mine. Madame Spetuna had, after all, been infiltrating the Picklemen. But there was no evidence of tampering. Sophronia resolved to leave Bumbersnoot with Vieve for a proper checkup. In fact, she had a real need to consult with Vieve on much of what they had learned, and stolen, and crashed into.
“Getting on toward supper,” said Soap, catching her attention. He looked tired, his face drawn, his eyes only mildly twinkly.
Sophronia closed Bumbersnoot, set him to nibble at a bit of coal, and stood up.
“Food is all in the back.” Only then did she realize how hungry she was.
“We should stop for the night,” said Dimity, sounding unusually decided on the matter.
Sidheag wanted to press on, but Sophronia agreed with Dimity.
“It would be best to stop. It’s full moon night, and the tracks could be crowded with private celebration trains now that the sun is down. It’s not safe. Plus, we all need rest. It should be safe; timetables list this line as vacant all night long.”
“Picklemen might catch up to us,” objected Sidheag.
“I think they have other things to worry about. If Felix holds his tongue, they might continue to disregard us as a group of vagrant boys. Might even prefer us to the drones we stole the train from.”
“Except that we killed one of their dirigibles,” Sidheag answered.
And we’re relying on Lord Mersey’s discretion. Behind Soap’s back Sophronia gestured, making a sad face. Sidheag sighed but agreed. She, too, cared about Soap, and he couldn’t keep going indefinitely. They had to rest for his sake.
They rolled into a tiny station in a town so small they couldn’t even determine its name. It was nothing more than a platform next to a switch. There was no porter. There wasn’t even a ticket box.
Nevertheless, someone was paying attention, for a young lad with a cart pulled up next to the station shortly after they arrived. He hailed Soap from the roadway.
“Aye-up, circus in town?”
Soap looked startled, the gold Dimity dress streamers having slipped his mind.
Sophronia stuck her head around him and said cheerfully, a grin plastered to her face, “Indeed it is!”
The carter looked at her suspiciously. “You don’t seem like a circus.”
“More a tumbling troupe, if you know the type.”
“Oh, indeed?”
Sophronia jumped down to the track and did a little somersault forward, bouncing out of it onto one knee with a flourish.