Imprudence
Page 102
Primrose jumped down to cross the quarterdeck. “It occurs to me that such a pontoon – or whatever that thing happens to be called – is a very odd place for a load of immortal cats to live. You know, in the middle of a lake.”
“Truer words,” agreed Rue. “Hold position, Percy.”
Primrose hopped off the quarterdeck. “Do you think they’ll all look like her?”
“Goodness, I hope not. Can you imagine?” Rue bumped shoulders with her friend as she leaned next to her.
“Rather well, actually.” Prim flushed.
“The world is not ready for that kind of excess.”
“No wonder the ancients thought they were goddesses.”
“I suspect,” said Rue, “that the part where they could change into massive lionesses probably did the trick.”
“Beauty always helps.”
“You should know.”
“Flatterer,” said Prim.
Miss Sekhmet reappeared in human form. She hoisted herself up and walked back across the papyrus. She was draped in a white robe and followed by two other women. While similarly dressed, neither, thank goodness for Prim’s peace of mind, was as beautiful as Tasherit.
“Come on down,” the werecat yelled up.
Rue signalled for Willard to bung over the rope ladder. “Right, I’m going. Who else?”
She considered. Circumstances being different, she would have taken Quesnel with her. She looked over her crew. Percy must stay at the helm, in case of attack. Spoo and Willard were needed to marshal troops. Virgil had to keep Percy calm. Aggie must stay in engineering; besides, she’d cock up any diplomatic mission. Floote was standing to one side, looking interested but inconspicuous. Frail as he was, he likely couldn’t handle the climb. Anitra was on Quesnel duty down in engineering. Rue didn’t mind. She and Quesnel had talked little over the past week; serious matters remained unresolved. But Rue had decided to trust that his intentions towards her were mostly honourable, and his attentions towards Anitra were mostly platonic. Still, that really left only one person.
“Primrose, would you like to accompany me?” It seemed to be a good idea to take a female into this situation. And Prim had many skills, one of which was diplomacy.
Primrose didn’t look excited by the rope ladder, but she kilted up her skirts and gave it her best effort. Rue was as graceless as ever but didn’t fall off. At the bottom, she pressed her feet down cautiously. The surface appeared to be layers of vegetation mounded up to disguise stretched canvas. They bounced as they walked. Rue suppressed the urge to giggle.
Miss Sekhmet’s two companions were of a similar complexion to her with strong features, heavy brows, and unconscionably long eyelashes. They stood tall and graceful with her lean edgy build and catlike grace. But they were not the same family. Their faces were too different. One was fierce and long with sharp cheekbones, and the other was round with a pointed chin and a mulish mouth. She looks like she gets her own way.
Tasherit made introductions. “My fur sisters, Queen Henuttawy and Miw-Sher, Lost Pride of the Desert Wind, meet my sisters-who-float, Primrose, and the skin-stalker, Prudence, Pride of The Spotted Custard.”
The queen – the one with the pert chin – spoke first. This was correct, given her rank. “A skin-stalker, rare indeed. What bloodline?”
“Roman,” said Miss Sekhmet.
They must be asking about my preternatural ancestry. Preternaturals always bred true, so Rue’s mother’s family, the Tarabottis, stretched very far back.
“We say Italian now, not Roman, yes?” That was the other werelioness, Miw-Sher. At least Rue assumed they were both werecats; hard to know without touching one of them.
Miss Sekhmet nodded, surprised. “You keep congress with the outside world?”
“You are not the only one to have left us and returned, sister,” answered Miw-Sher.
“Although, they were sent away willingly and welcomed back with open arms. You are not.” Queen Henuttawy’s tone was cool.
Rue had always suspected bad blood between Tasherit and her pride; apparently it was very bad indeed.
“Is this skin-stalker your excuse? While interesting, of course, she is not enough to allow you to return.” The queen evaluated Rue from down her nose, as if Rue were some kind of questionable pork sausage at a market stand.
Tasherit’s face twisted. “I am not interested in returning to you or your pride. I merely visit as a courtesy. I have become known to the outside world and there is no way to stopper up that knowledge. The Daughters of Sekhmet will not be able to remain lost any longer. The British are coming.”
“So you led them to us?” Miw-Sher pounced.
“They would have found you regardless. Just as they found the Source of the Nile. Just as they will find the secret you guard. It is a most desirable resource. The British prefer other people’s resources.”
“Traitor,” hissed Miw-Sher.
“Don’t be ridiculous, sister. You have been prepared for this a hundred years or more. It was only the Sudd that kept the first explorers at bay. Now there are ships in the aether. Barriers of water are no longer barriers in truth. I’m surprise you have not already been discovered.”
The queen looked more annoyed than angry. “Who is to say we have not? And dealt with the threat as we shall deal with this one.”
“Well, so. I have delivered my warning and I have brought you a proof.”
“Truer words,” agreed Rue. “Hold position, Percy.”
Primrose hopped off the quarterdeck. “Do you think they’ll all look like her?”
“Goodness, I hope not. Can you imagine?” Rue bumped shoulders with her friend as she leaned next to her.
“Rather well, actually.” Prim flushed.
“The world is not ready for that kind of excess.”
“No wonder the ancients thought they were goddesses.”
“I suspect,” said Rue, “that the part where they could change into massive lionesses probably did the trick.”
“Beauty always helps.”
“You should know.”
“Flatterer,” said Prim.
Miss Sekhmet reappeared in human form. She hoisted herself up and walked back across the papyrus. She was draped in a white robe and followed by two other women. While similarly dressed, neither, thank goodness for Prim’s peace of mind, was as beautiful as Tasherit.
“Come on down,” the werecat yelled up.
Rue signalled for Willard to bung over the rope ladder. “Right, I’m going. Who else?”
She considered. Circumstances being different, she would have taken Quesnel with her. She looked over her crew. Percy must stay at the helm, in case of attack. Spoo and Willard were needed to marshal troops. Virgil had to keep Percy calm. Aggie must stay in engineering; besides, she’d cock up any diplomatic mission. Floote was standing to one side, looking interested but inconspicuous. Frail as he was, he likely couldn’t handle the climb. Anitra was on Quesnel duty down in engineering. Rue didn’t mind. She and Quesnel had talked little over the past week; serious matters remained unresolved. But Rue had decided to trust that his intentions towards her were mostly honourable, and his attentions towards Anitra were mostly platonic. Still, that really left only one person.
“Primrose, would you like to accompany me?” It seemed to be a good idea to take a female into this situation. And Prim had many skills, one of which was diplomacy.
Primrose didn’t look excited by the rope ladder, but she kilted up her skirts and gave it her best effort. Rue was as graceless as ever but didn’t fall off. At the bottom, she pressed her feet down cautiously. The surface appeared to be layers of vegetation mounded up to disguise stretched canvas. They bounced as they walked. Rue suppressed the urge to giggle.
Miss Sekhmet’s two companions were of a similar complexion to her with strong features, heavy brows, and unconscionably long eyelashes. They stood tall and graceful with her lean edgy build and catlike grace. But they were not the same family. Their faces were too different. One was fierce and long with sharp cheekbones, and the other was round with a pointed chin and a mulish mouth. She looks like she gets her own way.
Tasherit made introductions. “My fur sisters, Queen Henuttawy and Miw-Sher, Lost Pride of the Desert Wind, meet my sisters-who-float, Primrose, and the skin-stalker, Prudence, Pride of The Spotted Custard.”
The queen – the one with the pert chin – spoke first. This was correct, given her rank. “A skin-stalker, rare indeed. What bloodline?”
“Roman,” said Miss Sekhmet.
They must be asking about my preternatural ancestry. Preternaturals always bred true, so Rue’s mother’s family, the Tarabottis, stretched very far back.
“We say Italian now, not Roman, yes?” That was the other werelioness, Miw-Sher. At least Rue assumed they were both werecats; hard to know without touching one of them.
Miss Sekhmet nodded, surprised. “You keep congress with the outside world?”
“You are not the only one to have left us and returned, sister,” answered Miw-Sher.
“Although, they were sent away willingly and welcomed back with open arms. You are not.” Queen Henuttawy’s tone was cool.
Rue had always suspected bad blood between Tasherit and her pride; apparently it was very bad indeed.
“Is this skin-stalker your excuse? While interesting, of course, she is not enough to allow you to return.” The queen evaluated Rue from down her nose, as if Rue were some kind of questionable pork sausage at a market stand.
Tasherit’s face twisted. “I am not interested in returning to you or your pride. I merely visit as a courtesy. I have become known to the outside world and there is no way to stopper up that knowledge. The Daughters of Sekhmet will not be able to remain lost any longer. The British are coming.”
“So you led them to us?” Miw-Sher pounced.
“They would have found you regardless. Just as they found the Source of the Nile. Just as they will find the secret you guard. It is a most desirable resource. The British prefer other people’s resources.”
“Traitor,” hissed Miw-Sher.
“Don’t be ridiculous, sister. You have been prepared for this a hundred years or more. It was only the Sudd that kept the first explorers at bay. Now there are ships in the aether. Barriers of water are no longer barriers in truth. I’m surprise you have not already been discovered.”
The queen looked more annoyed than angry. “Who is to say we have not? And dealt with the threat as we shall deal with this one.”
“Well, so. I have delivered my warning and I have brought you a proof.”
