She didn’t know what she expected. Perhaps for the Alpha Vanara to set his other warriors to attack her. Instead, he gave her latest victim a disgusted look and made an aggressively dismissive gesture, his monkey face disappointed.

The now fully human Vanara, ashamed, made a subservient half-bow and turned to run into the temple, presumably to get away from Rue as far and as fast as he could in order to snap her tether.

Which meant Rue didn’t have much time in her stolen form.

She leapt over to Percy, grabbed up the fallen axe and, before anyone could stop her, began hacking through his shackles.

The chain broke.

Rue scooped Percy up with her tail, despite his protestations, and carried him bodily back to her ship. She climbed the temple and most of the way up the rope ladder with amazingly graceful ease, before using her tail to toss Percy up and over the railing onto the main deck of The Spotted Custard.

Percy landed with a thud but was already yelling, “My satchel! Rue, you fiend! They still have my books! I can’t leave without them!”

Rue said, surprising everyone on board the Custard with the fact that she could talk in wereform, not to mention the low slurring of the voice coming out of her massive monkey chest, “I’ll try. You find a copy of the Act. Now, Pershy.”

She looked to his twin. “Primrosh, given a chansh, steal back the tea bubbles.”

Prim blinked. “What?”

“You hearsh mesh.” Rue hadn’t the time to explain further.

She didn’t wait to see if either followed her instructions, nor did she join her crew on deck as they expected. Instead, she leaned out on her long monkey arms, swung the rope ladder twice, and with an elegant flip dropped back down to balance on the wall.

“No,” cried Quesnel. “Don’t!”

Rue ignored him. There was still Miss Sekhmet to rescue. Her loyalties were unknown, but Rue was tolerably certain the werecat wanted to prevent conflict. In this they were allies. And frankly, Rue liked her.

She leapt over to the cage and gave the bars a test tug. Yes, the silver burned Vanara flesh just like werewolf. The palms of her hands, free of fur, were tender and exposed. Before she could further pit her supernatural strength against the silver and the pain, a new agony suffused her body. Her monkey muscles were shrinking. The world shifted, her senses altering. She was a mortal human once more. Her Vanara victim had reached the edge of the metanatural tether.