The gun was a gift from Dama, who, despite his tea-drenched grudge, refused to let Rue’s twenty-first birthday slip by without acknowledgement. Rue had been in India on the actual date of the occurrence, likely acting the part of naked native goddess. Frankly, attaining her official majority had entirely slipped her mind. But no one could refute that she had indeed turned twenty-one, papers were filed, she was legally an adult, a free woman, and a ward of no one – vampire or otherwise. At her return home, Dama had presented Rue with a large shiny rapid-fire gun because, as he said, she was all grown up and a fully fledged independent now, and knowing her family propensities, she’d need a ruddy big gun.

It being well after dark, Rue, Prim, and Virgil were hailed from the Custard’s main deck by a solitary night guard and not by a teeming mass of decklings. Only one guard stood duty as only one was needed, as that guard was Tasherit Sekhmet.

Miss Sekhmet didn’t seem like very effective protection. True she was tall and imposing, but also very female, wearing some sort of filmy tea-gown with her hair loose, and not a weapon in sight.

Rue climbed out of the carriage and waved. “Only us!”

“Ah, good evening, Captain. I wasn’t expecting you tonight. And Miss Primrose? How are you this fine night?” Tasherit turned her hunter’s gaze onto Prim the moment she appeared.

Rue didn’t have to look to know that Primrose was blushing. Primrose was always blushing around Miss Sekhmet. She was in awe of their resident werelioness, and despite Tasherit’s easygoing affection, Primrose refused to warm to her.

Tasherit, in classic cat fashion, thus found Primrose the most fascinating thing on board.

“And young Virgil? A good evening to you.”

Virgil nodded happily. All of the Custard’s youngsters were fond of Miss Sekhmet. Partly because when she was in lioness form, she let them ride her like a shipboard pony and partly because she was one of the few adults on the dirigible who held no immediate connection to, or official title within, the aristocracy. True she was a foreigner, but she was also a commoner, and she was nice about both. As a result, Tasherit had turned most of Rue’s crew into her minions.

Rue might have minded, except that it was good for them to have an adult to talk to in an informal manner. She herself couldn’t take on the role of mentor; as captain, she needed to inspire discipline and awe. Being a round, cheerful young lady, Rue was working on awe and discipline from a deficit. Also Tasherit had taken on the duty of militia training. Back in India, and now here, the werecat regularly put the deck crew through their paces, to go up against not only daylight threats but supernatural creatures as well. At her behest, Rue had seen them outfitted with crossbows and everyone was feeling more relaxed as a result. The decklings being, by and large, vicious little scrappers had taken to the idea of being armed with disturbing enthusiasm.

Tasherit, being an immortal, was strong enough to operate the gangplank without assistance. She cranked it down manually and with enviable ease. The three came trotting up.

Even living together for weeks on end, Tasherit up close always took Rue’s breath away. She was so beautiful it hurt, like breathing deep on an icy evening. She was all exotically strong features, tea-with-milk complexion, and long, thick dark hair. It was most upsetting, or would have been, if she hadn’t been so nice about it. One couldn’t really resent Tasherit for her beauty; that would be like resenting a sunset.

“Has Percy come aboard recently?”

“He has.” Tasherit spoke English well, with only a touch of lilting vowels. Weeks spent talking regularly to Rue and Prim had coloured her vocabulary with the upper crust. “Off to his library in a funk.”

Prim and Rue exchanged relieved looks.

“Well, thank goodness he’s here.” Prim’s eyes were less worried.

“Has anyone been around asking after him?” Rue perused the decks by habit; everything seemed in order.

Tasherit was surprised. “No. Should there be? Does our dear professor have friends?”

“No, quite the opposite.”

“Ah, no. But I’ll bring up the gangplank and keep a careful watch, if you wish.”

“Yes, I think that wise. And if you wouldn’t mind, perhaps a lioness might be a bigger dissuader than a stunning diaphanous woman.”

“Mmm. Quite right. I’ll just go and change, then, shall I?” Tasherit winked at them both and disappeared below, only to return a moment later as a large silken-furred lioness. She blinked her slanted brown eyes at them and went to pace the railing.

Primrose let out a long breath.

Rue wasn’t certain if it was relief at having Percy so well protected or relief at being no longer under the scrutiny of the werecat.

They found Percy sulking in his library.

“Percy, there you are.” Primrose bustled in.

Percy looked up. His expression suggested that his sister was akin to some kind of shoe fungus. “Would you care to make any more banal comments?”

“Percy! I was worried about you. So was Virgil.”

“The answer is clearly yes, banal comments will continue.” Percy was extra grumpy this evening.

Aren’t we lucky? “What ho, Percy. I wasn’t worried.” Rue grinned at him.

“What happened to make you storm off so?” Primrose was nothing if not persistent.

Percy was rather fond of Rue, so it was startling to everyone when he rounded on her at this juncture. Rue had never seen such anger on his face and she’d known him since they were in nappies. She took a tiny step back.