Prim served their guest a generous helping of kippers in brown butter sauce and fried egg. All quite cold by now, but the werecat didn’t seem to mind congealed food.

“How did you know they were sending anyone?” Rue asked.

“Your father wrote a letter to the pack here. Asking them to keep an eye on his biggest treasure. Of course, I thought he meant his wife. We all did. She’s travelled without him before. Didn’t realise you were all grown up and floating about without them.”

Rue said, “Time moves differently for immortals.”

“Just so.” Miss Sekhmet nodded. “Nor did we think England would let you out of the country.”

“I am not a prisoner because I am metanatural!”

“No, but you are, as your father put it, a national treasure.”

Rue frowned darkly. Overprotective, interfering Paw!

The werecat laughed. “Child, you don’t have to explain to me a love of independence.”

Rue moved them on. “Let us be frank, Miss Sekhmet. These people you keep alluding to – the ones who have Mrs Featherstonehaugh and the taxes – are they indeed some form of weremonkey, or are we merely dealing with nationalist dissidents?”

Rue was reminded of that old saying: trying to get a straight answer out of a cat is like trying to find the soap in the bathtub.

Miss Sekhmet swallowed her mouthful of kipper and looked smug.

Percy said, “The agreement, SAD. Of course! Things could get messy, politically, if Vanaras do exist. The Rakshasas would have to share power.”

Miss Sekhmet tried hard to hide her surprise. “Your government would acknowledge them legally?”

Percy sat a little more upright. “My good woman! The British have always dealt fairly with the supernatural. It is tradition.”

Miss Sekhmet’s lip curled. “But not with the natives.”

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?”