“Yes, captain – I mean to say, no, captain. I mean to say, Rue, the Vanaras are legally included under the pertinent clauses because the agreement only utilises the term supernatural. They simply need to sign it.”

Quesnel stopped yelling and reporting at Rue and said seriously, “You have a plan, don’t you, chérie?”

“Yes, I most certainly do. And don’t call me chérie in public.”

“So I may do so in private?” Quesnel brightened.

Rue snorted to cover a smile. “Crew, listen, please.”

Those assembled all straightened expectantly.

“Let’s steal this war away from them, shall we? Spoo, I want you and the decklings to use that silver net and target one particular Vanara – the one who is wearing more jewellery than the others. He is their Alpha. Try to catch him. Once you’ve caught him, keep him dangling – don’t reel him in, too dangerous. Let me know the moment you’ve got him secure.”

Rue pointed to two of the deckhands – larger bulkier men who did a great deal of the heavy labour that the smaller nimbler decklings couldn’t. “You two, man the rope net and try for the brigadier. Unless I’m wrong about personalities, those two will try to fight one another directly, so they should be close together. Understand?”

“If you say so, Lady Captain.”

Rue glared. “We are trying to stop a major international kerfuffle here. This isn’t for larks. I want the two leaders netted before the floating reinforcements get here. Which reminds me – Quesnel, Percy, we need to make aether and outstrip that floatillah if possible. Both of you prep your stations. Percy, I want due notice. You keep an eye to the incoming puffs and let me know with a countdown before we lose our window to outrun them.”

Percy and Quesnel didn’t bother to answer. They both ran off to do as ordered – Quesnel for belowdecks and Percy for the navigator’s station on the poop deck.

Prim and Rue took up position on the main deck, ship’s centre, one on either side, looking down over the railing to watch the action below from two different angles.

“Percy, take us in and down,” yelled Rue.

“A little to starboard,” added Prim.

“And a little more,” said Rue. “Spoo, how’s it coming?”

“Nearly there, Lady Captain.”

Below, Rue saw the Kingair Pack materialise from the trees. Lady Kingair was at the front, Professor Lyall, the sandy fox-like one, close to his Alpha. The rest of the pack followed in formation.

The sound of the battle below was almost deafening but, nevertheless, Rue leaned over the edge and yelled down to her kinsfolk. “Yoo-hoo, niece of mine?”

Lady Kingair looked up, yellow eyes flashed once.

“I’m trying to steal this war. Give me some time?”