Primrose sat back with a whoosh noise, pensive and startled at the same time. She took a small breath and spoke slowly, choosing her words with care. “So you break his first? That’s hardly sporting.”

“I didn’t think his heart was something I had power over.”

“So are you doing this simply to prove that you can? I did think, from an outsider’s perspective” – she blushed – “that you were good together. Was I wrong? Did something not work in, you know, that way?”

Rue considered Quesnel’s mouth and hands, the smooth feel of one and the rough feel of the other. She considered his eyes, up close, violet twinkling. It had been a great deal of fun, his lessons. Was there something wrong with fun? She was usually in hot pursuit of adventurous pleasure in all other parts of her life.

“Quite the opposite.”

Primrose pressed.

“So you are in love with him?”

Rue shied away from that idea. It was utterly terrifying.

Later that evening, Rue unexpectedly encountered Anitra alone on the poop deck. She would have turned to leave the girl in peace but, at a welcoming gesture, joined her. They stood companionably chatting, looking out over the dark desert.

Pleasantries exchanged, Anitra said, quickly, as though getting something pent up out, “Captain, I wish to say something. I do hope you will not take it amiss.”

“Yes?”

“I wear no dowry coins.” She gestured across her forehead where the edge of her veil rested. “Nor do I wear anklets or bracelets.”

“I had not known to remark upon this absence but I do now.” Rue was a little confused but it was her business to be polite to a guest.

Anitra bit her lip. “Very well, then, I should… um… good evening.” With which she left.

“Well, that was odd,” said Rue to the night silence.

“What was?” Miss Sekhmet emerged abovedecks, looking fresh and chipper. They’d settled happily into their old immortal cycle where she joined them for supper after sunset and then took the night shift. They missed her company during the day, but it was healthier for her not to fight the nocturnal habits of several lifetimes.

“Miss Anitra just insisted on telling me that she wore no jewellery.”

Tasherit grinned. “She was informing you that she is not available for courting. Did you make a move in that direction?”

“Certainly not.” Rue thought of Ay and that fact that Anitra might perceive her as masculine. “At least, I don’t think I did.”

The immoral nodded. “Ah, so. Then it is your jealousy when Quesnel pays her too close attention. She is trying to make clear her lack of intent.”

Rue drew herself up. “Pardon me!”

“No need to fluff up, child. If you do not wish your feelings known, hide them better. On this ship, the only one unaware of your interest in that mechanic is that mechanic. And possibly Mr Tunstell. But Mr Tunstell would remain unaware of a sand tick up his nose.” The werecat grinned at her own wit and returned to the point. “Anitra is merely informing you that she is not after your man. A female Drifter without dowry on display is not available.”

Rue was forced to accept that she had not been subtle. She would have to sort this mess out before others were drawn into it as well. It was most complicated, being the captain of a ship.

Of course Rue avoided both Quesnel and the mess for the next two days. Instead she dogged Floote, asking him about the past, when he let her. She soon realised that she was telling him more than he was telling her. She found herself reliving her peculiar upbringing with three parents and two households. She reminisced about the things those parents had taught her, which until he asked she’d forgotten. She told the more recent stories of the pack’s rejection and about Queen Victoria’s anger and Dama’s concern over her majority. Rue began to suspect that Floote said so little because others found him easy to talk to.

At which point, they reached Khartoom. The city sat at the junction of the White Nile and the Blue Nile. This was rummy-looking from above; for leagues they could see the two rivers meet but stay parallel, not intermingling, the brown of the Blue Nile alongside the green of the White Nile. The city took her mechanical power from these waters. All along the banks, dozens of great watermills, or what looked like watermills, spun and whirled, casting droplets to the sky. Khartoom was a beautiful city, all lush green with spires of white. It was also decidedly unfriendly to both Drifter balloons and ladybug airships.

“Odd names for rivers neither white nor blue.” Rue chewed a bit of candied orange peel and stared down at the water.

Anitra smiled. “We don’t question the ancients.”

“No? Why not?”

Several red handkerchiefs were waved at them from Ay’s balloon. Anitra waved back, and as a group, the Drifters caught a breeze eastwards away from the city.

“They’re abandoning us?” Rue tried not to sound forlorn.

“They’ll meet us on the other side. We’re less of a threat without their shadow. They’ll keep a long-distance eye on us.”

“Khartoom looks calm enough.” Rue watched their escort drift away.

“It’s been under siege at one time or another for as long as I can remember.” Anitra seemed to think that was explanation enough.

Rue swallowed her last bit of peel, looking with sudden suspicion at all the lush graceful peacefulness. “Who holds it now?”