‘Of course,’ Aubrey echoed faintly.
Caroline, however, wasn’t so nervous. Her eyes sparkled. ‘So, in your story, a feather hunt may become a search for some botanical object or other?’
‘Exactly. Or a piece of magic glass or whatever makes for a good narrative. Nothing dull, whatever the case. Can’t have dullness. Not if we’re to inspire the nation.’
Given some of the near-fatal scrapes they had found themselves in over the last year or so, Aubrey would have paid good money for a modicum of dullness, but he saw George’s point. ‘Let’s comb this airship for a feather. Can we meet back here in half an hour?’
Aubrey was back after twenty minutes, both disappointed and dismayed. After wandering through crew quarters, officers’ areas and in and out of the weapons rooms, he’d even crawled in among the giant gasbags that provided the lift for the dirigible, all without success.
He turned to his notebook.
After he’d returned home from the Fisherberg escapade, he’d made note of all the extemporary magic he’d invented during the efforts to keep Prince Albert safe, as was his wont. He’d learned that unless he actually wrote down these spells, he was bound to forget their intricacies. He’d also found that the simple act of writing actually helped embed the complex elements in his head.
Caroline shook her head at his glum expression when she returned. ‘No luck, I’m afraid. You’d better start thinking of alternatives.’
He held up his notebook. ‘That’s what I’m doing. It’s a shame, though. The feather spell worked beautifully.’
‘What about the gas in the gasbags?’
Aubrey sat up, nearly clocking his head on the upper bunk. He blinked. ‘Caroline, you have permission to crow.’
She raised an eyebrow. Most elegantly, Aubrey decided. ‘I do?’
‘You do. I thought I was being so clever, reproducing a successful spell, but I was being short-sighted. It’s the principle that’s important here, not the detail. Juggling a few elements, substituting a few variables, that’s not difficult once the overall structure of the spell has been hammered out.’
‘I won’t crow, Aubrey. Not now. I’ll save it up for later.’
‘When I need some humility?’
‘That’s correct. I’m sure you would have abandoned the feather business in time, and it’s not a huge leap of imagination to start wondering about how this craft stays up in the air.’
Aubrey put his hands together and rubbed them, slowly. ‘I find you most useful, Caroline. I hope you understand that.’
Caroline inclined her head, eyes downcast. ‘I do understand, Aubrey.’ She paused, appearing to consider her words. Aubrey gave her time. ‘Ever since we met, Aubrey, my life has changed.’
‘Yes?’ It was all Aubrey could trust himself to say as he was worried his heart was about to burst.
‘The world has grown larger and infinitely more complex. Richer, in a word.’
‘Oh?’
‘Many things I’d only heard about or read about, I’ve now actually encountered. It’s been frightening.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Let me finish. It’s been frightening, but it’s also been exhilarating, thrilling and infuriating.’ She looked at him solemnly. ‘That last is mostly you, of course.’
‘Of course.’
‘Aubrey, right now, I feel it’s time to tell you something. Something important.’
‘I’m listening.’
‘I–’
The door to the cabin banged open. George stood, outlined in the doorway, brandishing a bright green feather. ‘I’ve found it!’
In terms of unfortunate timing, Aubrey judged that George’s entrance was on a par with Mrs and Mrs Unicorn going on a holiday just before the invitation came to join Noah on his ark.
Aubrey swallowed, and with an effort that was the equivalent of swimming through quickly setting concrete, he put a smile on his face. Then he trusted himself to look at Caroline. She had a hand to her throat, the fingers barely brushing her collar. Her eyes glinted. Aubrey was unwilling to believe he saw tears. It must have been the light.
Personal mission status: Aubrey thought with a vast hollowness inside, failure.
George wasn’t a dullard. He looked from Aubrey to Caroline and back again. ‘Ah. You know, I have a sudden urge to go and see cook at work in the galley. Fascinating stuff, that.’
Caroline stood and smiled, most sweetly. ‘Thank you, George, but I think your feather is more important.’
‘The moment’s passed, eh?’ George ran a hand through his sandy hair. ‘Put my foot in it, haven’t I?’
Aubrey couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s quick change of demeanour from triumphant to crestfallen. ‘George, speaking as an expert in putting feet in wrong places, I can say that you’re a mere beginner in the field. You have years of work ahead of you to achieve my level of malfootedness.’
George studied their faces for a moment, then he shrugged. ‘Thank you for your words of wisdom, O Baron of Blunders, O Guru of Gaffes, O Mighty Maestro of Mistakes.’
‘My pleasure.’ Aubrey pursed his lips. ‘Mighty Maestro of Mistakes?’
George dusted off a lapel. ‘I’m quite proud of that one.’
‘Alliteration is the crutch of the insecure writer, George, you should know that.’
‘It is? Who said so?’
‘I did. I just made it up.’
‘And the feather, George,’ Caroline said, turning the conversation aside. ‘Where did you find it? I looked everywhere.’
George handed the bright green feather to Aubrey. ‘The engineer’s mate has a parrot. He didn’t know what a foul mouth the bird had, either, until we plucked him.’
With the feather in hand, Aubrey sat at the desk with his notebook and was quickly able to reconstruct his spell. After his discussion with Caroline, he was even able to enhance it, blending it with the levitation spell he’d worked out in Lutetia. This combination, he was sure, would allow him to manage their rate of ascent with some degree of control, which was a blessing. His memory of the moonlight plunge from the Transcontinental Express was one of absolute panic then frantic spell casting followed by an almighty thump at the end. He’d hit the ground hard enough to leave a welter of bruises, but he’d walked away, which was a rather better outcome than appeared likely when he began his descent.
Now, of course, a successful spell was even more important. The mission was contributing to the war effort – which was reason enough – but more paramount was the safety of his friends. Their lives would be in his hands.
Aubrey squinted into the rain whipping at his face as he stood at the doorway into the night sky. Even though Captain Bailey had ordered the A 205 to turn into the wind and the crew was doing its best to maintain position, the fitful weather was making things difficult.
At least the foul weather means there’s no moon, Aubrey thought. It also meant that most of the citizens of Divodorum would be inside, out of the rain, tucked up nice and warm, and not wondering about mysterious airships wandering about their city.
Aubrey gripped the rails on either side of the exit. Captain Bailey had thought that using the passenger exit was best. Situated as it was right at the bow of the craft, it meant Aubrey could clearly see the terrain below.
He had a tug at his waist. ‘Ready, old man? We’re freezing back here.’
Aubrey adjusted the rope around his waist. It had been his idea. He didn’t want the three of them separating during what he hoped was going to be a controlled descent.
Lieutenant Davey clapped his hands together. ‘Best to go now.’
‘Really?’