“We came to rescue you!” crowed Spoo.
“Yes, so Mr Lefoux said.” Rue knew better than to lose her manners with a subordinate over good intentions. “Thank you kindly for the thought, but I don’t actually require rescuing just this moment.”
Prim said to Quesnel, “I did tell you that would be the case.”
Spoo said, “Jolly good,” and disappeared again.
Prim was interested in other, more pressing matters. “Is that bubbles of tea I see everywhere? Spheres of the plants in growth? Amazing. I’ve never thought to see so much in one place.” She ducked and a half-heartedly hurled wooden spear got one of the silk roses sticking up from the top of her hat.
“I say there.” Prim was not pleased.
Rue said, “Prim, you are witnessing the discovery of long-lost shape-changing immortals, monkeys of legend, and you’re excited by tea bushes?”
“Do you realise how many cups of tea all that would make?” said Prim. “Besides, the tea doesn’t seem to cherish a vendetta against my hat.” She ducked again. “And Miss Sekhmet is more impressive as alternate animals go, don’t you feel? Where is she by the way? Oh, there she is. Good evening, Miss Sekhmet. Why the cage?”
Quesnel was not to be denied gratitude. “But we saw your sparkler. You signalled for help.”
Rue said, “Oh, that. Yes, you see someone else rescued me first. Well, to be perfectly fair, he tried to rescue me but then I ended up stealing his form and rescuing both of us. It’s all been a bit of a trial since then. But I was getting things all straightened out with the Vanaras – oh, really, monkeys, do stop throwing things at my ship! – when you came floating in and botched it. Now they’ll never trust me.”
“Uh-oh,” said Prim.
“What do you mean, ‘uh-oh’?” Rue did not like the guilty tone in her best friend’s voice.
“Well, I’m afraid we aren’t the only ones coming to rescue you.”
Rue was instantly on her guard. “Prim, what did you do?”
“Nothing. It’s only that I believe you were watched when you left with Miss Sekhmet and Percy. Oh, hello, Percy? How are you? Still revolting? Good. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes, I think you were watched when you left, possibly followed – as much as one is able to follow a werecat.”
“By whom?”
“Werewolves, I am given to understand. Your Uncle Lyall isn’t wholly to be trusted. And, I know that we were watched and followed as we floated over Bombay. For a little while at least.”
“Oh, indeed, and who was that by?”
Prim and Quesnel exchanged glances.
“The Rakshasas,” said Quesnel finally.
Rue said, “That’s just wonderful. Wonderful.”
“Well,” said Prim, “we determined it wasn’t too great a problem. After all, vampires are restricted in territory and they can’t leave the city. If it was only their drones who could follow us, what harm could they possibly do?”
“They’d have a devil of a time tracking us from the ground once we hit the forest, anyway,” asserted Quesnel.
Rue was not so relaxed about this new bit of information. Knowing what she did about the ongoing enmity between the two supernatural creatures, she could predict what the Rakshasas would do. Moreover, she knew exactly what any hive vampire in England would do. Rue would bet good money it was Rakshasas who intercepted Mrs Featherstonehaugh’s message about the Vanaras to Dama, and Rakshasa drones who kidnapped Miss Sekhmet. They had a vested interest in keeping the Vanaras secret and estranged from England. She realised she must try to warn the Vanaras – somehow convince them that danger was coming, and not from her beloved ship.
Before she could do so, she was interrupted.
Behind them all, in her lonely cage, Miss Sekhmet yowled. The sound cut through the flurry of weremonkeys gibbering and shrieking.
A werewolf howl is unlike any other. It touches primal instincts embedded in skin and spine, causing hairs to raise up and uncomfortable tingling sensations. It is the sound of something large and furry that is about to come charging out of the night, intent on indiscriminately tearing out throats. It is not a nice noise.
The yowl the werelioness made was worse.
The Vanaras stopped throwing things at The Spotted Custard. This was good as they’d started dipping oil-tipped arrows into the bonfire, preparing to set the Custard ablaze. The werecat’s wail caused them to pause in their torture of the floating ladybird. The whites of their eyes showed as they glanced frantically around, the fur on their arms and about their faces fluffed out.
Rue was upset by the very idea of flaming arrows. After all, apart from yelling at her, The Spotted Custard had not made any attempt to return fire. In fact, her crew had behaved admirably under adverse conditions.
“Drat it!” she said to Mrs Featherstonehaugh. “There’s no call for flames. The ship only came to rescue me. They don’t intend the Vanaras any harm. They won’t counterattack without my order. Can’t you tell them that?”
Percy said, “I already tried.”
Mrs Featherstonehaugh bustled over to the Alpha. He rudely pushed her aside, all discussion ended.
Rue said, “Don’t they understand that the danger isn’t from us? It’s from––”
Miss Sekhmet yowled again – long and loud, enhancing the general nervousness. Everyone turned to stare at her. Whatever she was trying to articulate went well over their heads. Only Rue felt like she had a pretty good guess.