‘Don’t worry,’ Aubrey said, as reassuringly as someone could when he and his friends were hanging from the belly of an enemy battleship made from magically wrought cloudstuff. ‘I have this part under control.’
He paused and waited for a chorus of disbelief at this notion, but it was a measure of the situation that a serious-looking George merely nodded, while Caroline locked eyes with him. ‘Go on.’
‘I think it’s fair to say that you’ll have to trust me here.’
A brace of Albion ornithopters swooped along what would have been the waterline of the flagship, if the craft had been afloat. One of them was buffeted by a blast before it climbed rapidly and disappeared from view.
‘Aubrey,’ Caroline said, ‘none of us would be here if we didn’t trust you. At the moment, I’m sure we’d follow even if you asked us to step outside.’
‘I’m glad, because that’s just what I’m looking for.’