Sophronia crept over and removed a little perfume bottle from her cleavage. Inside was a mixture of concentrated walnut dye and beet juice. It didn’t last long, but it would hold to the skin for a day or so even under strenuous washing, especially if it were left to sit several hours—while a man was asleep, for example.
Carefully, she touched the small end of the stopper to the teacher’s neck, light as could be. Twice. She examined her handiwork. It looked exactly as if it might be the mark left by vampire fangs. She fervently hoped that the man wouldn’t move and smear it while it dried. She hurried to the door and let herself out, mission accomplished.
“Well, well, what are you doing?”
Sophronia only just managed not to let out a shriek that would have awakened the entire front section of the airship. She whirled to find Madame Spetuna standing in the hallway, arms crossed. She’d lost several of her scarves and much of her accent. She looks younger, too.
At a loss, Sophronia curtsied. “Madame Spetuna, how do you do?”
The purported fortune-teller looked at the door Sophronia had shut. “Professor Shrimpdittle’s quarters, is it? What could you possibly have to do there?”
Sophronia didn’t answer.
“And you had me sew that button in his ear earlier as well. What are you up to, little covert recruit?”
She knows that, does she? “I might just as well ask what you are up to, Madame Spetuna.”
“Touché.”
They stood in the dark hallway, at an impasse.
“I have learned you are in possession of a mechanimal,” the fortune-teller said at last.
“How?” Knowing she was a covert recruit was one thing, but Sophronia had hoped the teachers knew nothing of Bumbersnoot.
The diminutive lady cocked her head to one side and raised an eyebrow.
Of course, if she was trained here, and she’s as good as I think she is, she would have sources of information beyond the teachers. “What’s it to you?”
“Let us make a bargain. You give me the mechanimal, and I will not reveal your infiltration of the tassel section.” Madame Spetuna gestured with one hand at the dark hallway.
“Why do you need him?”
“Let us say, I could use the status conferred upon owners of mechanimals.”
Sophronia speculated, “It would be a help if one wanted to gain the confidence of, say, flywaymen and Picklemen. They do have a penchant for mechanimals, don’t they?”
Another silence met that.
“You cannot have my mechanimal.”
The fortune-teller’s eyes narrowed. She cocked her head threateningly, like an angry rooster. A red fringed scarf about her neck contributed to the effect, looking like a wattle.
Sophronia added, “But you may borrow him for a time. Arrange to return him to me in, say, one week, and we have a deal.”
Madame Spetuna pursed her lips. “One month.”
“Two weeks.”
“Three.”
“Done.”
“And I want to know why you came on board to report in. What was so important you had to leave your post and abandon all those embroidered pillows?”
“My, my, you are a devious little thing, aren’t you?” Madame Spetuna made a decision. “I came to report that the flywaymen are assembling a float gather. This has not occurred in some fifty years. Also, they are allying formally with the Picklemen.”
“Which is why you need Bumbersnoot. This is an opportunity for you to trade up to a more significant position in sky ranking.”
“Bumbersnoot?”
“My mechanimal.”
Madame Spetuna inclined her head.
“Why are they gathering?”
“Giffard’s dirigible. If he can travel the aetherosphere, so could they.”
Sophronia wrinkled her nose. “They aren’t trying to kidnap my friend Dimity, are they?”
Madame Spetuna looked genuinely confused.
Sophronia nodded to herself. Either Madame Spetuna wasn’t high enough up to know, or the Picklemen weren’t revealing this plan to their flywaymen allies, or it wasn’t the Picklemen. Vampires, then?
“When can I get the mechanimal?” demanded Madame Spetuna.
“Tomorrow evening, in the boiler room,” said Sophronia.
“Done.”
“How do I know you won’t steal him forever?”