Page 72 of A Slipper in the Smoke
“Excellent.Dan, Buttercup, she said she’s going to do it!”
Buttercup?
Elena was ushered in, the door hastily closed behind her. One half of the garage—identical in size and shape to hers—was backed with narrow bunks. A small kitchen was crammed into the back, where a door led to a small toilet area. The rest of the space was taken up with tables and trunks. Maps lined the walls alongside weapons and rope, grappling hooks, binoculars.
The home of the rebellion. A shoddy garage in the outer ring.
Dandelion came forward, also smiling, and behind him, rising from one of the bunks which sagged under his weight, was the largest person Elena had ever seen.
He looked like a grizzly bear from an ancient story book, as wide and tall as a cottage, his huge hairy arms roped with muscle. Black, wiry hair occupied most of his face, covering his eyes, his head, his chin. His thick brow covered his eyes.
He could have snapped any one of them like a toothpick.
“This is Buttercup,” said Clover, “another member of our merry band, and Dandelion’s husband.”
Buttercup bowed his head. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Elena,” he said, in a rough, gravelly voice.
“Buttercup is many things,” Snowdrop explained, “including a fabulous tailor.”
“A… tailor?”
“We thought we might have to create a dress for you—for time constraints if nothing else. Buttercup is more than up for the task.”
“I’ll need your measurements,” Buttercup continued. “Before we go and steal some fabric fit for a princess. You have lovely colouring. I’ll be sure to find something flattering.”
Elena blinked at them all, her legs feeling wobbly. “I’m sorry,” she said, “this is all rather a lot. Might I trouble you for some tea?”
Snowdrop snorted. “A few days with a Toulousian and she’s already talking like one of them. Do we look like we have tea, girl?”
“We’ve got whiskey?” said Clover, holding out a tankard.
“That’ll do.”
Elena seized the tankard from Clover’s hand and practically inhaled it. The whiskey burned her throat. “Engranages y dioses,that’s strong!” she coughed, choking it up.
Clover took back the tankard. Elena slumped down on a nearby bunk. “Are we sure this will work?”
“We aren’t sure of anything,” said Dandelion. “But this is the best plan we have.”
“You think you can intercept Sofia’s train?”
“Won’t be the first train job we’ve pulled.”
“What about causing a distraction at the ball?”
“We’re working on that. The ball offers a unique opportunity for us to get into the palace, but they will still be checking the guests for weapons. We’ll think of something.”
“No explosions, please,” Elena begged.
Snowdrop’s eyes flickered. “We’ll try to avoid them.”
Elena wracked her brain. A smoke grenade would be ideal, but it would need to be disguised as something. Multiple ones, preferably, which they could all time to go off together.
“I’ll try and think of something.”
Snowdrop grinned. “I can’t wait to see it.”
Head reeling from the impossible plan and the mission she’d signed up for, Elena made her way back to the Baroness’ apartment in the middle ring. The one good thing about Snowdrop’s mad idea was that she felt less afraid to return. What could the Baroness do to her now? Even the climb to the top felt like nothing.
