and see how Temeraire is enjoying himself: that will put you in a better frame of mind.”
The notion appealed immensely. “I think I will, if you will pardon me,” he said, with a bow to the company.
“Look in on Maximus for me, see if he wants any more dinner,” Berkley called after him.
“And Lily!” Harcourt said, then looked guiltily about to see if any of the guests at the nearby tables had overheard: naturally the company did not realize that the women with the aviators were themselves captains, and assumed them rather wives, though Jane’s scarred face had earned several startled looks, which she ignored with perfect ease.
Laurence left the table to their noisy and spirited discussion, making his way outdoors. The ancient covert near London had long ago been encroached upon by the city and given up by the Corps, save for use by couriers, but for the occasion it had been briefly reclaimed, and a great pavilion established at the northern edge where the headquarters had once stood.
By the aviators’ request, the musicians had been set at the very edge of the pavilion, where the dragons could gather around outside to listen. The musicians had been at first somewhat distressed by the notion and inclined to edge their chairs away, but as the evening wore on and the dragons proved a more appreciative audience than the noisy crowd of society, their fear was gradually overcome by their vanity. Laurence came out to find the first violinist having abandoned the orchestra entirely and playing snatches of various airs in a rather didactic manner for the dragons, demonstrating the work of different composers.
Maximus and Lily were among the interested group, listening with fascination and asking a great many questions. Laurence saw after a moment, with some surprise, that Temeraire was instead curled up in a small clearing beyond the others, off to the side and talking with a gentleman whose face Laurence could not see.
He skirted the group and approached, calling Temeraire’s name softly; the man turned, hearing him. With a start of pleasant surprise, Laurence recognized Sir Edward Howe, and hurried forward to greet him.
“I am very happy indeed to see you, sir,” Laurence said, shaking his hand. “I had not heard that you were back in London, although I made a point of inquiring after you when we first arrived.”
“I was in Ireland when the news reached me; I have only just come to London,” Sir Edward said, and Laurence only then noticed that he was still in traveling-clothes, and his boots were dust-stained. “I hope you will forgive me; I presumed on our acquaintance to come despite the lack of a formal invitation, in hopes of speaking with you at once. When I saw the crowd inside, I thought it best to come and stay with Temeraire until you appeared rather than try to seek you within.”
“Indeed, I am in your debt for putting yourself to so much trouble,” Laurence said. “I confess I have been very anxious to speak with you ever since discovering Temeraire’s ability, which I expect is the news which has brought you. All he can tell us is that the sensation is the same as that of roaring; we cannot account for how mere sound might produce so extraordinary an effect, and none of us have ever heard of anything like.”
“No, you would not have,” Sir Edward said. “Laurence—” He stopped and glanced at the crowd of dragons between them and the pavilion, all now rumbling in approval at the close of the first performance. “Might we speak somewhere in more privacy?”
“We can always go to my own clearing, if you would like to be somewhere quieter,” Temeraire said. “I am happy to carry you both, and it will not take me a moment to fly there.”
“Perhaps that would be best, if you have no objection?” Sir Edward asked Laurence, and Temeraire brought them over carefully in his foreclaws, setting them down in the deserted clearing before settling himself comfortably. “I must beg your pardon for putting you to such trouble, and interrupting your evening,” Sir Edward said.
“Sir, I assure you I am very happy to have it interrupted in this cause,” Laurence said. “Pray have no concern on that score.” He was impatient to learn what Sir Edward might know; a concern over Temeraire’s safety from some possible agent of Napoleon’s lingered with him, perhaps even increased by the victory.
“I will keep you in suspense no longer,” Sir Edward said. “Although