Prim was always circumspect with other people’s secrets, especially when they were right there listening. She said only, “That is a conversation for you and Rue to have when she can speak again.”

“Indeed, indeed. Forgive my curiosity – a curse I was born to. Believe it or not.”

Prim said, “I fully understand. Now, I assume you have ridden a lioness before?”

Miss Sekhmet nodded. Her face, more expressive in mortal form, looked sad. “A long time ago. But, yes.”

Well done, Primrose, now we know there are more of them. Or once were.

Miss Sekhmet settled herself astride Rue. “Can she communicate?”

Prim nodded.

“Fully?”

“She can understand you. She has possession of all her capacities, unlike a newly changed werewolf. But she no more possesses the ability to articulate with the tongue than you would as a lioness.”

Rue gave a little mew of inquiry and felt Miss Sekhmet twine her hands into the thick fur of her neck, a sign that she was ready. Rue tried to purr her approval, but nothing but a stuttering sputter emerged. Rue gave up and ran through her quarters out into the hall and leapt up the staircase out onto the quarterdeck.

She almost overshot it. Lioness shape was powerful in distinct ways from werewolf.

Percy was waiting for them, looking impatient. Virgil was fussing about his master, ensuring Percy was all buttoned up for the evening ride, that his boots were dusted, and his hat in place.

Rue stopped next to him, tail thrashing.

Percy looked her over doubtfully. It had been a while since he had ridden her as a wolf, and this form was vastly different. Plus, while he had grown bigger, Rue had mostly not.

Rue yowled at him, dictatorially.

Percy legged over and sat, tucking his knees up, presumably wrapping his arms about Miss Sekhmet’s waist.

“I do beg your pardon, miss, having only just met you and all.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, you British and your manners. Just grab on to me, man!”

“Yes, miss,” said Percy meekly.

Rue merped a question at them both.

“All set,” said Percy, his voice a little strangled.

“Ready,” added Miss Sekhmet.

With which Rue dashed over to the shoreside railing of the ship and, in one great leap, cast herself and her passengers over the edge.

It was a spectacular manoeuvre. The decklings behind gave a gratifying communal gasp. It was further down than Rue had thought. Fortunately, it was not too far for her supernatural body to absorb the impact. She landed and stumbled only slightly, righting herself so quickly even Percy didn’t fall off. She suppressed a small surge of disappointment that Quesnel had not bothered even to look out of the engineering port hole to see her away. Shaking off thoughts of the difficult Frenchman, Rue set off through the city.

CHAPTER TWELVE

HIJACKING AN ELEPHANT HEAD

Percy said, “My research suggests the Tungareshwar Forest as the likely location for Vanaras.”