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.

“Percy, Mrs Featherstonehaugh, we must get to the ship,” she said. Then turning once more to look up, “Quesnel, Prim, it’s going to get messy soon. Prepare for defensive action.”

Prim said, “And monkeys with projectiles aren’t messy?” She had a right to be perturbed – one of the Vanara arrows appeared to have bisected her hat.

“Why?” Mrs Featherstonehaugh left off trying to convince the Alpha weremonkey and came over. “What’s going on?”