Percy looked surprised. “We bring civilisation and enlightenment to all the empire.”
“Is that what you call it?” The werecat finished her kipper and leaned back in her chair, sipping tea. “Mrs Featherstonehaugh believes similarly. The Vanaras are not so sure. And then when you refused to talk…”
“I didn’t refuse!” said Rue. “I didn’t know.”
“And now we are at an impasse. For I am no longer speaking for them and you have yet to ask me the right question.” Miss Sekhmet put down her cup.
Rue frowned. “Werelioness, are you aware that I have been made sundowner?” That little bit of information managed to shock the werecat. So she doesn’t know everything.
“Chérie!” Quesnel’s voice was gruff with warning.
The werecat inclined her head. “A threat, little bird? I comprehend. Then they do not treasure you as much as they think you are useful. Very interesting.”
Rue laughed. “That would appear to be the case.”
“So?”
“So can you take me to the Vanaras?” They want me to negotiate in my mother’s name and Dama wants me to find the tea. Only Mrs Featherstonehaugh knows where it is. I suppose I am going into the jungle whether I like it or not.
“Very good, skin-stalker. That is the right question. And yes, yes I can.”
At which Prim, Percy, and Quesnel all started talking at once.
Prim and Quesnel thought this a terrible idea. Percy thought he ought to accompany Rue for research purposes. At which statement Quesnel said no, he should come along, for he could help defensively as well as scientifically. Prim said if Rue had to go, they should take The Spotted Custard and crew into the forest en masse.
Rue held up a hand. “Do you think the government would not have tried to find Mrs Featherstonehaugh by air before now? I suspect this forest to be overly lush. No, the hunt must be conducted on foot. Or more precisely, on paw.”
Quesnel and Prim protested this vociferously. “It’s too dangerous!”
Rue considered. “In lioness form, I can carry two easily.” Only Prim had any idea how thrilled she was to say that. Oh please, oh please, oh please.
Miss Sekhmet looked thoughtful, rather than objecting outright.
Rue was delighted. She felt compelled to explain. “Not by weight. I could take more. I’m as strong as any normal werecreature. At least I think I would be. I’ve never done cat before, but by size —” She gestured expressively at her short curvaceous figure. “As you might have noticed, I did not benefit from my parents’ proportions. Two is the most that will fit on my back.”
Quesnel said, “I do not like where you are going with this.”
Rue said, “It has to be me in shape. If I’m riding, the risk is too great of a skin slip-up. I will be safe as a lioness. It is Miss Sekhmet here who will have to take the risk.”
The werecat, following her plan, nodded. “I am old enough not to fear a second death. And you are my first skin-stalker. It should make for an interesting experience. I am also old enough to rarely encounter interesting experiences any more.”
“Curious as a cat, Miss Sekhmet?” suggested Primrose rather daringly.
Said cat gave her a little smile of approval.
Primrose blushed.
Quesnel stood up from his deck-chair and began to pace. “You expect the rest of us to stay behind?”
Rue ignored him and asked Miss Sekhmet: “Have you studied the British policy on supernatural agreements in any depth?”
The werecat shook her head.
“Very well, Percy will make up the third of our party.”
Percy looked part delighted, part terrified to be included.
Primrose blanched. “Rue, Percy’s not accustomed to adventure. Or forests. Or the outside world, really.”
Rue said, “I know, but he did some wolf-riding when we were little. At least I know he can stay astride. And he’s pretty deadly with his cravat pin.”
Quesnel said with a cheeky smile, despite obvious tension, “Mon petit chou, any time you want me to ride you again, I would be happy to learn how to do it properly.”
Primrose gave a shocked little squeak at that statement.
Rue was privately thrilled. Perhaps he’s decided he’d like to tutor me in romantic encounters after all.
Then he added, spoiling matters, “Just stay behind where it’s safer.”
Rue was moved to reprimand. “I know you are overset, Mr Lefoux, but do try to control yourself.”
Quesnel persisted, “You don’t know what danger you face, how long it will take, or how you will get back out. You are intending to run into monkey-ridden doom with no more support than a werecat made mortal who we don’t know if we can trust and a ruthlessly incompetent academic.”
“Ho there, old boy!” objected Percy.
Miss Sekhmet said, “Ah, family arguments. Makes me miss my old pride.”
Rue and Quesnel said to her at the same time, “We are not related!”
Miss Sekhmet shrugged. “Neither were many in my pride.”
Quesnel was not to be thus distracted. “Chérie, please, don’t go.”
Rue could feel her face getting hot in frustration. Why is he countermanding my decisions in front of the others? She was mortified. Miss Sekhmet would think her a mere child. “This is the best option we have.”
“It is an imbecilic option!” Quesnel’s jaw muscles worked as he clenched his teeth in an effort to keep himself from yelling.
Rue wanted his interest – of course she wanted his interest – but not this overprotective nonsense. She wanted flirtation and desire, not yet another parent. Sekhmet was right – he was acting like family. “What care you? You, yours, and the ship will remain safe.”
Quesnel stood up and came to lean over her. “Now you are being an imbecile.”
Rue didn’t know how to relate to a Quesnel who was over-emotional. She thought for one terrifying moment that he intended to kiss her again, right there on the poop deck in front of all the decklings and a visiting werecat. There seemed an equally good possibility that he might strike her.
He did neither, only saying, “I am concerned about your safety. This is like you tearing after the lioness all over again.”
Rue was stung. “It isn’t that at all. I’m telling you what I’m doing ahead of time. And I’ll be tearing off as the lioness!”
Quesnel slapped his forehead with his hand and began striding about, copious arm gestures displaying his French ancestry. “And it will be your first time in that form. You don’t even know if you’re any good at it. You grew up being a wolf! And that is not even the point, the point is––”
Rue interrupted him, standing up herself. She puffed out her considerable chest and drew herself upright, not as tall as Quesnel but doing her best. “Enough. I am still the captain. You should not contradict me in front of the children.” She gestured to where, a little way away, the decklings had stopped chattering to Spoo and were watching Quesnel’s spectacular display of temper with wide, frightened eyes.
Quesnel stopped pacing, vibrating with anger, and then pulled himself together. “Yes, Lady Captain,” he said coldly, and stormed away belowdecks.
Rue did not stop him.