There were so... many... stairs.

I huffed and puffed my way down them, my legs aching. I could barely catch a glimpse of the blasted man before he rounded a corner and disappeared again, marching down the stairs—marching! Who on earth could march down stairs without breaking their necks?—at a lightning speed. Or even at the speed of myself devouring solid chocolate, which was equal to the speed of Aunt Brank agreeing to attend a ball.

Perhaps I should have stayed put.

But no! I would not admit defeat! Not now, not so close to the end of the stairs! Not when I was so much closer to discovering where Captain Carter had disappeared to!

Finally, I made it to the foot of the stairs, my petticoats and hoop skirts somewhat dented from my exertions and running into walls. I was surprised the man hadn't heard me coming from a mile off. I hid behind a pole, watching their interactions.

"Stone has not worked here for a week now," I heard Mr. Ambrose snap at Mr. Sallow Face—that was, Mr. Pearson. He sounded as though he would also love to snap the man's neck. "Who did you talk to when you sent this w... this lady to me?"

"I spoke with Mr. Stone!" Mr. Pearson stood up, his voice desperate and shrill. "He told me he was Mr. Stone! I never knew any different!"

"Who knows how many company secrets you could have divulged to this impostor, Pearson!" Mr. Ambrose looked as though he was on the verge of picking up the man and breaking him in two. Or four, or sixteen, or perhaps even a sextillion pieces. "Get out."

"What?"

"I will not waste knowledge, money, power, or time repeating myself. Leave this building, Pearson, and do not return."

Even I, as an inexperienced gentlewoman, thought this was a little unreasonable. Shouldn't he use Pearson to find out who the impostor was before he actually terminated his career?

"Stop!" I shouted, stepping out from behind the pillar.

Mr. Ambrose turned to me with a glare that could bring back the ice age and cause the return of woolly mammoths. "This is no place for a lady, Miss Linton. And ladies certainly have no place interfering in men's business affairs."

Mr. Pearson looked as though he agreed, the traitor. I was helping him!

"If you fire him, you will find it much more difficult to discover who is pretending to be Mr. Stone! Mr. Pearson would know... would know the sound of his voice."

"I was not going to fire him, Miss Linton." Rikkard Ambrose looked away and did not turn to look at me again. The absence of his icy glower should have made me warmer, but instead I felt colder. "I was going to send him from the building, where he would be set upon by my bodyguard, Karim, and tortured until I discovered the location of the fraudulent Mr. Stone."

Oh. Now I felt both idiotic and scared. Though I wasn't about to admit it to him!

"Tortured?" Mr. Pearson looked like a rabbit caught in a snare, if rabbits were terribly sallow. "No! Please! I know where he is! I'll help you find him!"

He was still shouting in that vein when a seven-foot-tall bearded giant wearing a turban entered the building and took hold of him as easily as I might pick up a piece of paper. "Karim, please take this man to the dungeon. When you are finished, escort the lady from the building."

"I will not be escorted out! I can be of use to you!" I would not beg. I refused to beg. That was beneath me.

"Really? What have you done but disobey me?"

"I do not work for you! I have no need to obey you."

He sighed heavily. "You do need to obey me. Because, you are going to be of some use to me during the journey we are about to take, Mr. Linton."

What?

"I - am - a - woman!" I marched up and poked him in the chest to punctuate each word.

"You - are - a - nuisance!" He snapped, taking hold of my hand and gripping it tightly. I thought he would have a cold touch like granite or marble, but instead his hand was warm. Not that I cared, of course. I was a feminist! I had no use for men! "Either you pose as a man and I assist you in finding Captain Carter, or you remain as you are and you never find him!"

"I—" In all the novels I read, there had never been a development like this. But I didn't come to America to lead a life of some adventure novel's heroine—I had come here to start my own adventure. "Agreed. Where do I sign?"

"Sign?" He gave me an imperious look. "I would never hire a female officially, whether they are pretending at male or not. No, you are going with me as a secretary in name only. You say you have news of this Captain Carter?"

"Yes," I said, not adding that it was likely to be as meager as his knowledge. "I'll tell you at the start of our journey."

He frowned at me, a furrow forming between his eyebrows. "At the start? How will we know where to look for the man without your information?"

Ha! He needed me!

"Either you wait for me to tell you," I said, reaching up on my tiptoes, "or I will dress up as a man, kiss you passionately in a public place, and have us both arrested for sodomy. That would hardly be disobedience, but we cannot find the man if we are both in jail."

His face contorted. "You... you ifrit!"

"What did you just call me?"

Heavy footsteps interrupted his answer. The bearded giant—Karim?—looked even more menacing than before, with a hand on the long sword at his side. Was that a sabre?

"An ifrit," he said bluntly, "is a fiery demon from hell with wings."

Well. I felt almost flattered.

"We leave first thing tomorrow, Karim," Mr. Ambrose barked. "We're taking her with us."

Karim looked aghast. "But, Sahib! A woman? On a journey such as this?"

"I have no choice." Rikkard Ambrose looked as though he were forcing the words out of a place where the sun didn't shine, and also as though the words were chains of iron.

My inner feminist did a victory dance.

"Be at Empire House at nine o'clock tomorrow. Mr. Linton. Pack men's clothes. Only one trunk."

My inner feminist stopped dancing. He didn't want to admit that he was doing any business with a woman.

"Fine."

I would bear it. I would find Captain Carter. And I would find adventure on the way.

Dear Fellow Ifrits,

Karim has been introduced, and Lilly is once again an ifrit. Any thoughts? Predictions?

Until next Thursday!