“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.”