Rue said on a sudden realisation, “Percy, we need books that illuminate the nature of the Rakshasas, and anything to do with the Indian agreement to the Supernatural Acceptance Decree. Anything at all. That is the parliamentary act under which the agreement that made local vampires tax collections would fall, yes?”
Percy was easily distracted. “Nature of the Rakshasas? Analytical or mythological books?”
“Both.”
He dived back into the stacks all around him, emerging with various volumes and bound journals, a few rolled parchments, some looking quite old, and a string of dried red chillies draped about his neck. “It won’t be inexpensive.”
Rue said, “I shall put them on the ship’s account. You’re going to have a great deal of researching to do when we get back. None of the rest of us reads Hindustani.”
Percy gave her a look as much as to say tell me something I don’t know and could you please come up with something more challenging next time? He said none of this, however, only grunted.
They purchased the books and the chilli necklace because it was better to stay on Percy’s good side at the moment. Laden down with these, as well as Prim’s fabric, they had to move quite slowly through the crowded streets.
Quesnel refused to carry anything and insisted that Rue keep her parasol hand free in case of further attack. So the twins bore the brunt of the burden, with no little complaining. But their enemy, whomever they might be, seemed content having extracted Miss Sekhmet.
No small thing, as it turned out. Without her guidance, it took them over an hour to find their way back to the steam carriage. Even with Percy’s command of the language, it was another two hours to direct the driver back to the ship. All this despite, or perhaps because of, Percy’s map. They had to stop several times for more of the spiced tea, which Rue was growing to enjoy and find most restorative, even in the heat. Starvation necessitated a pause for luncheon at a street-side stand where chunks of some mysterious meat of a remarkably vibrant red colour were roasted on sticks over large clay pots. Rue, Quesnel, and Prim nibbled happily, finding the flavour delicious. Percy refused, for fear of chilli, and only ate some fruit.
To try to raise their spirits, Quesnel told them all about the working of the elephant head. Unfortunately, no one was quite as excited as he about engineering. Still, it was nice of him to try.
Tired, dusty, sore, and overly hot, they finally returned to The Spotted Custard.
Percy immediately made for his room to begin reading. “Percy,” instructed Rue, “do concentrate on the Rakshasas and how they relate to the agreement. This issue may become life-threatening by the time the sun sets. Please, don’t get distracted.”
Percy took offence. “Me? I never get distracted.”
No one dignified that with an answer.
Prim retreated to her chambers to soak her sore feet in rose water, repair her hair, and admire her newly acquired fabrics.
Quesnel paused before going to his rooms.
Rue was too sunburned and grumpy to hope for another kiss.
Apparently, he felt the same, for he only gave her a long look. Or possibly he still hadn’t decided if he wanted to be her tutor in matters of romance.
“You are unharmed from the incident with the flowers, chérie?”
“Only my pride. Thank you.”
“If you’re a true sundowner, where is your royal gun?” Quesnel asked, offended on her behalf.
Rue arched an eyebrow. “Good question. I shall bring it up with my family as soon as I get home.”
“In the meantime, would you consider some form of projectile weapon? For my peace of mind, mon petit chou?”
Rue said, “The difficulty is in how to keep it with me if I change shape.”
“Rue.” He almost growled her name.
“Fine,” said Rue. “I’ll consider it.”
“That’s all I ask.” With which he made to leave.
Rue forestalled him, “And have you been considering my offer? It’s nothing important, you do realise? It was only a thought.”
He actually winced at that, which hurt in a way she hadn’t anticipated. Rue had thought she had presented him with an opportunity, but perhaps he saw it as a burden. Perhaps he had always seen her as nothing more than a meaningless flirtation and now she had placed him in an awkward position, as her chief engineer.
But his charm returned in an instant. “It is a gift, mon petit chou, and it is important.”
Rue stumbled on, “But if it’s too much a bother, I could seek elsewhere.”
Quesnel’s face shuttered over. “You must do as you see fit, chérie.” Which, of course, was no answer at all. He gave her a small bow and retreated to his own quarters without even trying to touch her.
Rue thought she saw a flicker of movement in the doorway of Percy’s room but wasn’t certain. Percy would already be occupied with his research. Perhaps Virgil was being nosy? Hard to keep one’s business private on an airship. She and Quesnel would have to be more careful about assignations in future.
Rue caught herself out with that. Future assignations indeed! He hasn’t even considered my terms. He had taken Prim’s arm as they walked that morning. And he’d been very taken by Miss Sekhmet. Clearly, she had overblown his flirting, and her own appeal.
He must be regretting last night’s embrace. In which case, Rue was back to square one as far as romance was concerned. It was a lot more painful than she had anticipated, rejection.
Rue retired to her room to stare up at the ceiling and, in order to not dwell on a certain flirtatious French engineer, tried to think about who might have a grudge against Indian vampires. Which was the problem with vampires – almost everyone had a grudge against them.