He drifted a bit from side to side. “And do you?”
He had known, back on the deck, of her cousin’s soullessness. He had known, with the Drifters, how to negotiate for help. He had told her some of her mother’s history. He had more to tell about her grandfather’s. And, quite frankly, Rue liked him. He was calming. Not a lot of people in her life were. He seemed like the kind of man who needed to be needed, even if he was dead.
“Yes.” Rue raised her chin. “I rather suspect I do need you.”
“Then I’ll stay.” There was no hesitation in Formerly Floote’s voice. His posture was perfectly straight. He was already focused on stopping a propensity to waft.
With Rue unable to touch the body, they had to get Aggie to help load it into the tank. She wasn’t as awful as she could have been, for Anitra’s sake. Even Aggie had sympathies for the bereaved.
“I don’t know about leaving him to haunt us all down here,” she did grumble at Rue.
“We’ll figure out a better spot,” Rue assured her calmly. “I’ll want to make certain his tether stretches to most of the ship, so he has freedom of movement. It’ll probably involve moving the tank.”
Aggie frowned. “We going to have some floaty wafting into our private quarters of an evening?”
“I’m sure Formerly Floote will respect everyone’s privacy. Miss Phinkerlington, do you think you might save your ire, just this once, for a later date? Say, tomorrow afternoon? I promise I will come back and you can rail at me all you like.”
“Promise?”
Rue nodded.
“Oh very well, then, puff off.”
Rue puffed.
Abovedecks, not a great deal had changed. They were still at an impasse. The Italian was tied up and locked in the stateroom with his best men, but no one else could really go anywhere, either. The remaining dirigibles were floating out of range, watching and waiting. They’d gone down to retrieve their fallen comrades. Decklings reported that the downed Drifter family had made their way to the werecat’s island, where they had disappeared beneath, presumably into the reluctant care of the still hidden Daughters of Sekhmet.
Anitra followed Rue up the main stairs. Her pretty round face was soot-stained and tear-streaked. She managed some handkerchief communication, which informed them that the crashed Drifter ship changed matters. They now couldn’t decide whether to stay and help or go and leave these foreigners to deal with their own mess.
Anitra rubbed at her face with one of the handkerchiefs. “They feel their agreement with you is concluded but they also feel a historical obligation to the Daughters.”
Rue sighed. “We have a bigger problem. Even if we could get away, the Custard doesn’t have enough helium to attain aether. I’d risk an uncharted current at this juncture, but we can’t even try. We’re pipped.”
Tasherit squinted. “I might be able to help there but it’ll take Queen Henuttawy’s approval. She’s difficult to persuade. Especially by me. Anitra, you know much of the history of our people, and you are connected to Lady Prudence’s history as well. Would you consider talking to her?”
Anitra’s eyes shone. “Meet the lost pride? I would be honoured.”
“Very well, then, Captain, if I may be excused?”
Rue inclined her head. If Tasherit really thought the werecats could help, Rue couldn’t think of a better plan. “Very well. But please be careful and try not to get them any more angry with you.”
Miss Sekhmet transformed into a lioness and Anitra, cautiously, took a seat astride her back.
Tasherit padded to the edge of the deck and leapt over the rail, coming to land, bouncing lightly, on the island below. The two disappeared beneath.
Rue wasn’t sure what to expect. What would be the sign of a successful negotiation? Lioness warriors appearing atop the island? The deployment of a massive weapon of some ancient and exotic type?
Fifteen minutes later, what she got was the most remarkable thing she had ever seen in her life. And Rue had once witnessed a whole party of American tourists actually refuse to drink tea, in a London teahouse, so that’s saying something.
The island below them took flight.
Percy swore and kicked up the propeller to get The Spotted Custard out of the way or the darn thing would have crashed into them.
Narrowly missing a collision, they puttered out of danger as the massive thing took to the skies. Whatever had fastened the island to the bottom of the lake not only held it floating on water, but had held it fast to the earth as well. Cut free, the island lifted up, dripping long strands of vegetation, and mud, and a few surprised guppies.
Thus the island revealed itself to be a massive airship, larger than any dirigible Rue had ever seen. Ten times as big as the biggest of Queen Victoria’s troop transport floatillah. As big as a whole city block or a small hamlet. The island top bulged, not just one balloon, but multiples, rammed together, like a bouquet of marigolds. Only they were all brown and dirty. So it was more like a bouquet of cow muffins.
It rose up in majestic steadiness. It wasn’t using heat like a hot air balloon; this airship was helium-filled – a very great deal of helium. Ropes kept the bouquet attached to what had once been underwater living accommodations. These dripped and stretched and held until the whole thing plucked itself out of the water, like a water lily. It was amazing. No less so for the reality of the fact now facing them – a pride of lionesses had lived underwater for decades and were now taking to the skies.
Rue grabbed a spyglass to look in wonder at the amazing craft.
The upper deck – which had likely rested directly above water level, hidden by the trailing vines – was occupied by a pack of people. Strong-looking women in filmy draped gowns strode about manning the airship, Olympian goddesses acting the part of decklings. That must be the pride. There were others with them – Chosen Ones, Tasherit had called them – the werecat version of clavigers. The mortals who hitched their lives to the Daughters of Sekhmet, sink or fly. Rue spotted the fallen Drifter family helping to crew the massive airship.
Rue saw Tasherit, pacing the deck nearest to them, waiting for the opportunity to leap. Anitra was riding her. The Drifter girl had a long tube tucked under one arm. It stretched up to one of the massive balloons above, like a sipping straw.
“Percy, bring us about and nudge towards them. We have friends who want to return home. I think they bring a gift.”
From the crow’s nest, Rue heard the call. One of her decklings was still doing his duty – keeping eyes to the enemy and not focusing on the behemoth next to them.
“Hostile dirigibles are fleeing, Lady Captain. They don’t fancy going up against that beauty.”
Rue put down the glass. “I don’t blame them.” She couldn’t see any weapons on the werecat’s ship, but that didn’t mean there were none. Immortals were usually prepared for combat. Even her Dama, who mostly fought with words, was a dab hand with a war scythe when he was in the mood.
Rue moved to the forecastle to confirm. The enemy was indeed speeding away, puffing up as fast as possible, until they were mere specks. Eventually they blinked out, jumping into the aetherosphere and damn the consequences of uncharted currents.
Rue let out a low whistle. “Guess we now have prisoners rather than hostages in our stateroom.”
Percy held them steady as the cumbersome former island nudged in close.
Rue strode the length of her ship, across the main deck, avoiding the scampering decklings; those who weren’t transfixed by the monstrosity next to them were still clearing away crashed ornithopter guts.
Rue jumped up to the quarterdeck and from there to the poop deck, coming to stop next to Percy, Primrose, and the helm.
“They don’t have flapper rudders or propellers.” She handed Percy a spyglass but they were too close for him to really confirm her assessment.
Percy waved the looker away. “Big and unwieldy, I understand.”
“Bring us in as near as possible.”
Percy bit his lip, sweating slightly, but did as instructed.
Primrose flipped her glassicals up. “She can’t really be considering what I think she’s considering.” She looked to Rue for support.
Rue gave one of her maniacal grins. “Cats can jump pretty far.”
“That’s insane.” Prim let out a little shriek of awe and fear as Tasherit took a running start and then leapt with a gloriously amazing flex of muscles from the long low deck of that ancient watery craft to the new, if damaged, main deck of The Spotted Custard.
The lioness slid quite a bit on landing, almost skidding right over the opposite side, where the railing no longer existed due to crashing ornithopters.
Anitra, much to everyone’s amazement, managed to keep hold of the tube from the bigger ship, as well as her own seat on the werecat’s back. When Rue ran to meet them, however, it was less impressive. She’d been strapped on.
“Here.” Anitra handed Rue the tube. It was capped off and very light, seeming to want to float away.
Rue wrapped both arms around it lovingly. Helium!
“Helium,” Anitra explained unnecessarily, on a gasp of breath. She was drawn with fear, tear tracks still visible on her face, brown eyes wide with awe at her own daring. “They have plenty. Turns out they’ve been mining vast parts of Africa for years. Then hoarding the helium here.”
She untied herself while Rue issued orders to deckhands, and deckhands to decklings to get their squeaker straw hooked into the helium port above.
“Make certain those patches hold.” Rue wasn’t about to outgas such a precious resource again.
The crew hopped to with renewed energy. It had been a long night. Everyone was starting to flag a bit, but this was beyond exciting, and resources were resources.
While they refilled, Anitra explained that the Daughters of Sekhmet had been arguing about coming to their aid when the Drifters sought refuge. When Ay’s balloon bobbed down to collect them, a dialogue had ensued. The cats agreed to help, not for the sake of Rue and her crew, but for the sake of reuniting with the Drifters. “It’s a romantic notion, lost tribe, lost pride, returning to a nomad’s life. Leaving the lake for the desert. They are ready to rejoin the world, I think. Ay can be most persuasive. He didn’t become a leader solely through skill in trade.”
Miss Sekhmet grunted out a cat sound of disgust.
“Whether or not they are really ready for the world, they are excited to be part of a culture that reveres cats once more.”
Primrose raised both eyebrows nearly into her hat. “Those poor Drifters.”
Tasherit twitched her whiskers.
“Well, you do get rather superior, you shape-shifter types.” Primrose verbally twitched her whiskers right back. “Yes, I include you, Rue. I like the Drifters. They seem a decent sort.”
Anitra smiled. “I think my people will do fine. There will be growing pains, but watch this.”
The Spotted Custard finished the helium refuel and let the tube go. It floated back and was gathered in by the werecat crew.
While Percy checked to make certain everything was in decent working order aboard The Spotted Custard, the massive airship floated away from them. The Drifters circled in around it, looking very small next to such a great lumbering thing.
The Drifters netted out, one after another, arranging themselves so they seemed to orbit the werecat’s craft, colourful bumblebees to one tumescent muddy flower.
Together they caught a breeze and began drifting northwards towards the Sudd and the desert beyond. Homeward for all of them.
NINETEEN
Affairs and Affaires in Order
“Well, that was fun.” Miss Sekhmet broke the ensuing reverent silence by returning to her human form.
“They look good together.” Primrose sounded as if she were observing a newly married couple. She turned to Anitra. “You’re staying with us?”
Anitra turned to Rue. “You don’t mind?”
“Course not!” Rue grinned at her. “Stay as long as you like. I’m sure Formerly Floote will love that.”
“I won’t be a burden?
“Goodness no! You’re handy with your medical herbs, fluent in various languages, and accustomed to floating. We’re lucky to have you. Primrose will put you on the roster. Won’t you, Prim? Assign permanent quarters and whatnot? Oh, and we have a resident ghost now. You’ll need to decide where to install his tank so that he has the most shipboard access. Quesnel will help with that.”
Prim held up a hand. “We need food, Rue.”
“And fuel,” Percy said. For some reason he was looking particularly pleased about something. He was letting the Custard drift and not running the propeller any more.
“How long do we have before both are exhausted?” Rue snapped to business.
“Two days.” Prim knew without having to check her ledger.
“Four with minimal use. One and a half at full power.” Percy didn’t call the boiler room; no doubt he, too, had already checked.
It’s like we’re a proper dirigible crew at last! Rue was secretly delighted, but she did give their situation some thought.
She came to a decision. “We make for the aetherosphere.”
“Rue, it’s uncharted,” Percy protested, but his hand was already hovering over the puff button.
“So we chart it. Find something that takes us, what, eastwards? Where do you think the nearest major city is?”
“Zanzibar,” said Percy promptly. “But that’s the other side of Kilimanjaro.”
“Zanzibar it is.”
Naturally, he found them a current. Percy may be a pill of particularly fine vintage, but he was awfully good at navigation. He was ridiculously pleased with himself as a result, making murmurs about reporting his new current to the Royal Geologic Society and whether he could convince them to name it the Tunstell Thoroughfare.
Nearly everyone who could be spared went to bed the moment they hit the grey, leaving Percy and a skeleton crew up top in case anything more went wrong. Miss Sekhmet, of course, was dead to the world regardless. Formerly Floote stayed trapped in the ghost holder while they were in the aetherosphere. Everyone else went willingly to their respective beds.
Except Rue. Rue went to Quesnel’s bed.
They’d moved him back from engineering to his improvised sickroom, much to his disgust. Rue promised he could go back to his platform in the boiler room once he got some sleep.
They were both beyond exhausted.
Rue insisted Quesnel take a little more laudanum because he was back to looking positively awful. He agreed to a dram only after she settled on the bed next to him, trying not to jostle him.
“Where are we off to now?” He snaked his good arm around her, tugging her close against his side, and began stroking her tangled hair in a meditative way.
“Zanzibar, we hope. We’ll catch a restock and a refuel there.”
“And then?”
“Got us a stateroom full of prisoners. I’ll turn them over to the German authorities as poachers. Except my dear cousin. He’s staying with us.”
“Oh yes?”
“What, shouldn’t I get to know my family better?” Rue gave a vicious smile.
“And by get to know I’m assuming you mean with a few sharp objects? Try not to cut off anything important.”
“I don’t like being hunted. I thought I might take the time to instruct him as to how much I don’t like it.”
“That’s my sweet gentle girl. And then?”
“Exploring. If there are werelionesses and weremonkeys, what else might there be out there?”
“Other kinds of vampires, like the Rakshasa.” He wasn’t trying to put a dampener on her enthusiasm – just trying to keep her realistic.
“Eww. Yes, but also new and amazing creatures we haven’t even dreamed of! Immortals lost to myth and history and… Oh, it will be such fun.” Rue’s zeal was arrested by a sudden fear. She turned against his side and leaned up on an elbow to look i
nto those amazing violet eyes.
“You’ll stay?”
When Rue had first pulled together a crew, she promised the officers it would only be temporary.
“Do you want me to stay?”
“You’ll have to fix this kefuffle with Percy.”
“He’s staying?”
“He likes this life. Won’t ever admit it, but he does. Secretly always had a flair for drama and adventure, despite his hermit tendencies.”
“And Primrose?” The poppy was starting to slur his speech. “What a silly question. Of course she is staying.”
“She still claims to be engaged. We’ll have to settle that when we return to England. But for now, yes.”
“Which means Tasherit is staying.” Quesnel smiled at her.
“And Anitra.” Rue smoothed back his hair, the strands soft against her fingertips. “And Formerly Floote.”
“About Percy. We’ve come to an agreement.”
“Anything to do with his wearing your wrist emitter? You know he saved my life with that thing.”
“As he should. We’ve agreed to co-publish. Of course, we can’t decide on who gets to be first in the byline, but… ”
Rue laughed.
“So you do want me to stay, chérie?”
“For as long as you’re willing.”
He smiled. His eyelids were beginning to close whether he willed it or not. The robins and their feathers were pressing in. “I have a great deal more to teach you. Years and years worth.”
“Should we marry, do you think?”
“That’d likely make it easier. With the lessons, I mean.”
“I do love your lessons.”
“And me?” His pansy eyes opened wide and winning; perhaps the laudanum hadn’t quite taken him yet.
“Yes. I very much love you, too.”
“Thank goodness.” The poor boy was shaking ever so slightly. “I really thought you’d never take me seriously.”
“I wouldn’t go overboard if I were you.” Rue bent and peppered his neck with little kisses, careful to avoid the bandages. He squirmed a bit. “Hold still.”
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