The King's Key (27 page)

‘Ask Fish Boy,' Ruby grinned, pointing to a half eaten sardine hanging from Whisker's belt.

‘Ooogh,' Horace winced. ‘That explains the awful smell.'

Whisker threw the sardine overboard and tried to hide his embarrassment.

‘E-e-everything's in my pockets,' he stammered.

‘An easy grab-and-run, was it?' Pete said sceptically.

‘Not exactly …' Whisker began.

‘Sabre thought he'd add Whisker to his clam chowder,' Ruby chimed in. He didn't count on Whisker's
Fool's Guard-Horace Shuf
f
le
combo.'

‘Way to go, Whisker,' Horace applauded. ‘I said it was a stellar move.'

‘Congratulations, Whisker,' the Captain said proudly. ‘You've just passed your third apprenticeship test, paws down. Sabre is no easy cat to …'

‘Err, Captain,' Pete interrupted. ‘I'm sorry to rain on Whisker's parade, but I'm certain those lights weren't there a minute ago.'

‘W-what lights?' Horace spluttered.

‘The lantern lights moving towards the floating inferno, you half-brained hamster!' Pete snapped.

Whisker peered into the distance. Pete was right. Several groups of lanterns approached from the east, moving swiftly in the strengthening breeze.

‘Someone's seen our little pyrotechnics display,' the Captain observed, his voice suddenly grave. ‘Can you identify them, Fred?'

Fred swivelled his enormous eye in the direction of the lanterns.

‘Three ships,' he grunted. ‘Two Claws-of-War and a
Dreadnaught
…'

‘Rotten pies to
Dreadnaughts
,' Horace muttered. ‘There goes our easy escape.'

A Not-so-easy Escape

'The game's up,' Pete groaned. ‘We're sitting dodos in a rowboat to extinction.'

‘Hold your tongue,' the Captain hissed. ‘I doubt Thunderclaw's seen us through all the sparks and the smoke. If we can reach the
Apple Pie
before the fireworks stop, we may have a chance to escape unseen.'

Pete jabbed Fred with his pencil. ‘Row faster, you big oaf. But do it quietly.'

Fred took no notice of Pete's demands and continued his slow and steady strokes. The rest of the crew remained silent, staring back at the chaotic scene, hoping darkness would conceal their escape.

Soon only the occasional stray rocket exploded from the
Silver Sardine
, a clear sign the performance was drawing to a close.

The black shape of the
Apple Pie
came into view and the Captain issued a hasty command: ‘Fly ahead, Smudge. Prepare the mice for an immediate launch the moment we're on deck.'

Smudge gave the Captain a two-armed salute and buzzed into the darkness.

‘What's our destination?' Horace asked anxiously.

The Captain considered his options. ‘We can't sail east with a headwind and three warships in the way, and seeing as we're still close to the Island of Kings …'

‘Don't even think about it,' Pete broke in. ‘No one goes in there.'

‘Shush, you,' Horace scolded. ‘It's the quickest route to the Island of Destiny and no one's crazy enough to follow us through.'

‘Follow us through what?' Whisker asked in confusion.

Pete screwed up his nose. ‘The passage, of course. ‘The passage past Devil's Cliffs.'

Whisker looked horrified. ‘But don't the devils throw …'

‘Old wives' tales,' Horace cut in. ‘We're more likely to run aground on a submerged rock.'

‘And then have an avalanche of stones hurled at us,' Pete muttered.

Horace brushed the comment aside with a dismissive wave of his hook. ‘Relax, they won't even see us coming – it's the middle of the night.'

Pete stamped his pencil leg on the bottom of the boat. ‘Tasmanian devils are nocturnal, you uneducated eggplant.'

The Captain ignored the argument and called for a vote.

‘Better the devils you know,' Ruby said, raising her paw.

Horace stuck his hook straight in the air. Fred added his support with an affirmative grunt. As an apprentice, Whisker didn't have a vote, so he kept his paws by his side and waited for the outcome.

‘It's decided,' the Captain said, raising his paw to Pete's dismay. ‘We sail through the passage.'

The
Apple Pie
slipped silently away from the midnight commotion. The fireworks display had ended, but the party was just beginning.

The wind carried the frantic sounds of the Cat Fish across the water. Whisker heard hisses and shouts as the frenzied felines scurried across the deck, preparing to flee or fight.

The warships had not yet fired their cannons. Presumably, a fireworks-exploding pirate ship required careful investigation before an appropriate course of action was taken. The Pie Rats had no desire to find out. In minutes, the
Apple Pie
was beyond earshot and sailing through the mouth of the perilous passage.

The moon provided sufficient light for the Pie Rats to see where they were going. No lanterns burned, no voices spoke. The black cliffs of Phoenix Island rose ominously to the north, blocking the stars. The shallow water of the mangrove swamp lay to the south. The Captain set a course through the centre of the passage, where the water was deepest.

It wasn't long before the mangroves disappeared and the towering southern cliffs took their place. The passage curved north-west and the cliffs closed in on both sides. A fierce wind howled through the narrow gap, driving the
Apple Pie
further into the dark abyss. There was no thought of using the Eagle sail. The devils would undoubtedly spot the golden shape the moment it rose above the cliffs.

Dawn approached and the passage veered west. Whisker had spent much of the journey hanging off the foremast, without spotting a single devil, and he was growing more anxious by the minute. The faint glow of the dawn sky came as no relief. He knew that with every orange-rimmed cloud came the danger of discovery. Light was the Pie Rat's new enemy.

The open sea grew visible at the western end of the passage as the first rays of the morning sun struck the tops of the cliffs. For a moment, Whisker thought they were going to make it. He scrambled higher up the rigging for a clearer vantage point. What he saw made his tail shiver in terror.

Lining the ridge of the northern cliff was an army of shaggy black beasts. Their ears were red with anger. Their mouths were open and snarling. Their sharp claws slashed through the air in a warlike display of rage.

Panic-stricken, Whisker watched the creatures pick up jagged rocks and drag them to the edge of the cliff.

‘D-D-DEVILS!' he shouted. ‘STARBOARD SIDE!'

The crew gasped in startled horror as the first wave of projectiles splashed into the water, narrowly missing the bow of the ship. The Captain spun the wheel hard left and the
Apple Pie
lurched to its port side.

‘Watch out for the rocks,' Pete screeched.

‘I'm watching,' the Captain shouted, fixing his eyes on the cliff top.

‘Not those rocks,' Pete hollered. ‘The rocks we're about to collide with!'

Whisker looked down. Dark shapes rose from the surface of the indigo water, blocking half the passage.

The Captain jerked the
Apple Pie
to its starboard side, barely clearing the rocks but forcing the ship dangerously close to Devil's Cliffs.

‘Shipwrecks … sandbars … warships … rocks …' Horace groaned. ‘There's always something in the way.'

The second wave of missiles rained down. This time a handful of rocks hit their target, smashing craterlike holes in the deck and splintering the side of the bulwark. The devils threw their paws in the air and hooted in delight.

‘We can't sustain this for long, Captain,' Pete shouted. ‘Once they puncture the hull, we're history!'

‘Return fire,' Ruby hissed. ‘Are the cannons ready?'

‘The angle's too steep,' Horace cried. ‘We need a catapult.'

‘There's no time to build one,' Mr Tribble called from the navigation room. ‘Let's hope the devils retreat with the daylight.'

‘Fat chance,' Pete shot back. ‘They're devils, not vampires.'

Whisker knew Pete was right – but Mr Tribble wasn't necessarily wrong … The
Apple Pie
lay in the shadows of the cliffs, but the tips of the cutlery masts were bathed in sunlight. Rays of light bounced off the shiny prongs of the giant fork.

‘Emmie! Eaton!' Whisker shouted. ‘Have you finished polishing the plates?'

‘Almost …' Emmie squeaked.

‘I need them NOW!' Whisker yelled.

Whisker heard the clatter of silverware from the navigation room, followed by the crash of rocks hitting the deck
.
A rock whizzed past his head, tearing a hole in the sail.

‘Hurry!' he shouted.

Emmie and Eaton appeared at the doorway with two piles of silver dishes.

‘Bring me the shiniest plates,' Whisker barked.

Ruby and Horace leapt over the holes in the deck to reach the two mice. They hastily grabbed three plates each and dashed towards the mast.

A dozen rocks hurtled down.

‘EARS UP!' Whisker shouted.

Ruby jumped back as a large rock hit the side of the hull, bursting through the wood with a splintering
CRACK.
It was immediately followed by the sound of rushing water.

‘We've sprung a leak,' Pete shouted from the stairwell.

‘Plug it with a pie,' the Captain bellowed.

Fred ran below deck to help Pete while Horace and Ruby scampered up the mast with the plates. They quickly reached Whisker at the top of the mast, his torso bathed in golden sunlight.

‘Two plates each,' he directed, taking a plate in each paw. ‘Use them like mirrors. Aim the sunlight directly at the devils' eyes.'

Horace grinned. ‘Let's dazzle these devils.'

Steadying themselves with their tails, the three rats angled their plates at the cliff top. Blinding beams of sunlight bounced off the polished surfaces and into the red eyes of the attacking devils. The black beasts screeched and howled, dropping their rocks like hot potatoes as they tried to protect their eyes with their paws. Blindly, they stumbled into one another, tripping over tails and toes.

The rats were relentless. No sooner had a devil picked up a rock, than a ray of sunlight smacked him straight in the eyes. Unable to mount another attack, the furious devils retreated from the cliff top, scrambling for cover in bushes and burrows.

The three rats cheered in triumph as the last devil disappeared. Ruby lowered her plate and winked at Whisker.

‘Another brilliant idea, Fish Boy,' she laughed. ‘You're worth your weight in silver.'

For a moment, Whisker thought she was going to give him a big hug … or maybe even a kiss on the cheek. But then he realised they were both dangling from the top of the mast and he stank of sardines.

Hardly what every girl dreams of,
he sighed.

‘That was one hell of an escape,' Horace exclaimed. ‘Devils are nearly as gruesome as vampires and ghosts – which reminds me, there's a great ghost story about a white sheet and a …'

‘I'm warning you, Horace,' Ruby broke in. ‘It's a long way down.'

Horace peered over the side. ‘O-on the other hand, I might s-save that story for another occasion …'

With Devil's Cliffs behind them, the Pie Rats sailed from the shadows of the passage into a glorious sundrenched sea.

‘Oh, how I love the ocean,' Horace yawned, climbing down from the mast.

‘Oh, how I love the sun,' Whisker sighed.

‘Don't forget silver,' Ruby mused, dropping her plates on the deck. ‘Silver does have its place.'

‘I'm more partial to superglue,' Pete muttered, clomping up the stairs with Fred. ‘All the silver plates in the world wouldn't stop a leaky hull.'