Sophronia began making gentlemanly noises about everyone turning potty, mostly to add to the kerfuffle. Sidheag joined her, both of them attempting to sound as upmarket and foppishly offended as possible.
“This is going too far,” insisted Sidheag, waving a handkerchief about her face. “Coal dust, in a hive, can you believe it?”
Sophronia spoke through gritted teeth. “Agreed. It’s like the Marquis of Inkuppy and that dyed-blue poodle he will insist on carrying everywhere. It can’t be permitted.”
“What’s next, green champagne?”
“Or leather waistcoats?”
“Leather waistcoats! Dingle, you go too far!” Sidheag chortled, slapping Sophronia lightly on the arm. “Aren’t you a hoot?”
The Pickleman duke turned sharp eyes from his vampire foe to the oddly dressed dandies. “And who, pray tell, are you?”
“Who we are is not important. Who we represent is the tick.”
“Oh, and who might that be?”
Sophronia flashed her hand up into the air in a flamboyant gesture. “Who do you think?”
“Blast it. Is he also involved?”
“You know he doesn’t like to involve himself. You may think of us as mere observers.”
“Oh?”
Sophronia tilted her head coyly. “However, I believe we may have a solution to this madness. As a concerned third party, if we were remanded custody of the, um, borrowed property, perhaps you could all sort out the other aspects to your satisfaction, and our lord will return the children as needed.”
“I thought Lord Akeldama didn’t like to involve himself.” Both dukes looked suspicious.
Sophronia said, “He has an affection for children.”
“Father,” said Felix, tugging on the Pickleman’s sleeve.
“Not now, boy!”
“But, sir—”
“Silence!”
“Yes, sir.” Felix gave Sophronia a funny look.
Sophronia winked at him.
Strangely enough, the countess and the Picklemen actually considered Sophronia’s offer.
One of the other Picklemen said, “How do we know those two drones aren’t on your side, madam? Given that they are still working for a vampire. You would have a necessary alliance in place, after all.”
The countess waved an airy hand. “Oh, Lord Akeldama is as autonomous as any rove can be.”
“Certainly more than the potentate,” added Sophronia, pushing her cause. That seemed the right thing to say.
Dimity started whining again, aiming to make herself as unwelcome as possible. Pillover grumbled at her to stop winching. They resumed bickering. The countess and the Pickleman duke ordered them to be silent. At the same time, Soap resumed banging around in the chimney. One of the footmen began trying to persuade him into a different room. Soap used all his wiry strength and stubbornness to protest.
Meanwhile, the rest of the household staff still chased Bumbersnoot. The mechanimal had taken refuge under a sofa and was resisting extraction by feather duster. Eventually, he singed the duster into obscurity, the room redolent with the smell of burned feathers. Sophronia gave a casual little whistle. He reemerged, upsetting a small marble statue that looked as if it might actually have come from ancient Rome, and headed toward Sophronia. He was diverted by a footman diving for him.
The mechanimal was steaming and hooting in excitement, and his little mechanical tail was going back and forth with great rapidity. Sophronia had never seen it move so quickly, which reminded her of something Vieve had said. When his tail starts to wag as fast as a hummingbird’s wings…
Oh, dear, thought Sophronia. Madame Spetuna must have been running him practically everywhere over the last few days. Either that or Vieve’s calculations were terribly off.
The dog’s tail became blur. Ticktockticktock.
She looked at Sidheag. “I think it’s time we left.”
Sidheag reached down and grabbed Pillover and Dimity up by the arms,. Together the three of them backed toward Soap and the mound of chimney-cleaning tools.
The footman grabbed Bumbersnoot. Bumbersnoot spat out a spiderlike object that was awfully familiar looking. It landed at the footman’s feet, hissing ominously.
How much time had Vieve said they would have once the explosive was launched? Only a few minutes.
Soap tackled the footman, trying to wrestle Bumbersnoot away. The two fell and landed on top of the explosive spider. They rolled to one side, still very close.
Sophronia did the only thing she could think off. She tumbled forward in one of Lady Linette’s rolls, grabbed the explosive, and threw it at the queen of the Westminster Hive.
At the same time, Sidheag threw all of Soap’s coal and equipment up into the air.
Soap whacked the footman upside the head with his coal scuttle, grabbed Bumbersnoot out of his grasp, and stood.
The spider exploded at the countess’s feet. The room became nothing but steam, smoke, and coal dust.
By the time the chaos had cleared, the two dandies, the chimney sweep, the mechanimal, and both Plumleigh-Teignmott children had disappeared.
They had to move incredibly fast; vampires were much quicker than they could ever hope to be. Such vampires as these would be startled only for a moment. Sophronia was banking on them focusing on their queen and then getting caught up in the group of Picklemen and their own drones before they could give chase. She was also hoping Madame Spetuna might do something to help delay the enemy.
Sophronia’s group burst out of the front door of the hive house and ran down the street pell-mell. Dimity brought up the rear, as she was overburdened with a fluffy ball gown and a recent faint.
Captain Niall, still a wolf, bounded toward them. His attached top hat tilted coquettishly.
“Please, get Dimity and Pillover to safety,” said Sophronia to the werewolf. “Sidheag, you, too. No point in all of us getting into trouble.”
Without protest, the three climbed up onto Captain Niall’s furry back. Behind them, a host of people poured forth from the hive, the likes of which had never been seen in the neighborhood before. The group included Picklemen, disheveled and covered in soot; Madame Spetuna, who seemed to be doing her best to trip everyone up; the Duke of Hematol, a vampire without hat or jacket; and a goodly collection of frantic drones. The queen herself, of course, could not leave the hive.
Captain Niall should have sprung away at that juncture, but he did not. He growled at Sophronia and Soap, who stood alone on the pavement. Soap clutched Bumbersnoot in his arms.
Sidheag explained the werewolf’s behavior, “He won’t leave anyone behind. It’s not the military way.”
“We don’t fit!” protested Sophronia.
“I’ve an idea,” said Dimity, hopping back off and pulling down her petticoat right there in a public street. She’s come a long way, has Dimity, thought Sophronia proudly.
Dimity handed the stiff horsehair garment to Sophronia. “Use this as a sling.” She climbed back on.
With a shrug, Sophronia and Soap sat down in the street on top of the skirt. Embarrassed by her own temerity, Sophronia curled about her tall friend, Bumbersnoot between them, wrapping up in the big purple petticoat like a cocoon.
Soap said, “I’ll get you all over with soot, miss,” clearly mortified by such intimacy.
“That’s all right, Soap. It’s Preshea’s jacket and Sidheag’s clothes.”
Captain Niall gathered up the edges in his teeth and levered. They were only a hairbreadth above the ground, but it was enough.