by Garth Nix
‘Don’t worry,’ said the doctor, who seemed to know what he was feeling. ‘We’ll send you back safely. And we’re nearly there. Look down.’
Peter looked and saw a bright light shining up past the two rats below him on the ladder. It looked like sunshine, though that didn’t seem possible.
But it was sunshine. Peter blinked as he came out and the sun’s rays hit him in the face. When he stopped blinking, he saw that he was hanging on a rope ladder that was invisibly attached to the air. Above there was a blue sky with a few lazy white clouds bumbling along. Below him, there was a clump of palm trees and a golden beach.
Looking around, Peter saw that he was on an island. Anchored not far from shore, there was a ship with white sails and lots of red-capped sailors climbing over its masts and rigging. On the other side of the island, another ship with all its putrid yellow sails set was sailing away as fast as it could.
‘There go the villains!’ shouted the captain, jumping to the ground. ‘Quick! To the Tumblewheel!’
A few minutes later, Peter was on board His Majesty’s Royal Rat Ship Tumblewheel. He was out of breath from running and soaked from wading into the surf to get picked up by one of the ship’s small boats. There were rat sailors running all around him, climbing up the rigging, raising sails, tying and untying ropes, hauling on ropes and turning the windlass that raised the anchor. Captain Rattus was already on the poop deck, shouting orders as the ship slowly started to turn out to sea, the wind filling its sails and all the timbers and ropes groaning as if the Tumblewheel were reluctant to move.
‘Mister Purser!’ shouted the captain, pointing at Peter. ‘We’ve a gentleman volunteer aboard that needs a proper rig-out. See to it, if you please.’
A small, older-looking rat appeared at Peter’s elbow and led him away below deck. It was surprisingly cramped and Peter had to duck his head as they clambered down steps and through doorways and hatches. It smelled too, of salt and wet rats.
‘Here we go, sir,’ said the purser finally, as they reached a small room full of chests and bags. ‘We’ll have you kitted out in a moment. Hoi, Patrick! Get Mister…’
‘Peter,’ said Peter.
‘Get Mister Peter a cutlass and a brace of pistols from Hodges the Armourer,’ ordered the purser. Then he took a deep breath and started to hand Peter clothing, reciting, ‘Here’s a blue coat of best superfine with one inch brass buttons on a nautical line; a linen shirt somewhat patched with a detachable collar that’s practically a match; a pair of double-seated britches made of wool that sadly itches; two pairs of stockings, one silk, one not; a pair of sea boots with holes where they’ve been shot; a broad leather belt with steel buckle showing faint remains of gilt; and a broad-brimmed hat of salt-stained felt.’
A few minutes later, Peter had changed into his new clothes and was realising the truth of the purser’s words. The double-seated breeches did itch. Still, he couldn’t help but stick his chest out and feel proud in his seagoing gear. Then Able Searat Patrick came back with a cutlass and a brace of pistols, which Peter was relieved to see meant only two.
‘Captain says I’m to show you how to shoot,’ said Patrick. ‘Because we’ll be boarding those rotten rascal pirates within the hour. And I’ll teach you a few cutlass tricks as well.’
Chapter Seven
Peter followed Patrick out of the hold from the purser’s office to the gun deck, weaving between the rats who were waiting beside the great brass cannons. Past the last cannon, they climbed up a ladder and through a hatch.
Out in the open air, Patrick showed Peter how to fire his pistols and hold his cutlass. Peter shot at a floating barrel and learned how to reload; then he put the pistols away to hack at a spar with the cutlass and learn the basics of attack and defence.
‘We’re… we’re not going to get killed, are we?’ he asked Patrick nervously. Half an hour of practice with the pistols and cutlass had shown him how dangerous they could be.
‘Of course not!’ said Patrick, surprise in his bright black eyes. ‘This is the Neverworld! You only get awfully wounded here and suffer terrible pain till you get better or grow back a paw or tail. No one dies.’
‘Terrible pain?’ asked Peter faintly. ‘I don’t like the sound of that!’
‘Patrick always exaggerates,’ said a small, balding rat who was sharpening his cutlass nearby. ‘It ain’t that bad. Why, I’ve had both my ears shot off and I hardly noticed when it happened. The doc gave me a cordial and they grew back in two weeks, though I’ve had a little trouble with my fur.’
‘Oh,’ said Peter. ‘Things are very different where I come from.’
‘Naturally,’ said the balding rat. ‘That’s Topside. All sorts of strange things happen there. You just stick with the captain, Mister Peter. He’ll see you through.’
‘Speaking of the captain,’ said Patrick, ‘I think he wants you on the poop.’
‘The poop?’
‘The deck at the back, where the captain paces to and fro, grappling with strategies and tactics and cunning plans to defeat the foe,’ explained the purser, who had just come on deck. ‘How are the britches?’
‘They itches,’ said Peter as he climbed the short ladder to the poop deck. The captain was looking through a telescope, but he clapped it shut and shook Peter’s hand with one powerful paw.
‘It’s good to see a fellow take to this way of life,’ he declared. ‘Are your pistols primed and ready? Cutlass sharp as it can get?’
‘Yes, sir,’ declared Peter, who suddenly felt braver for the captain’s handshake.
‘Hmm,’ said the captain, as if he wasn’t sure what to say next. He took Peter’s arm and led him away from the two rats who stood nearby at the ship’s wheel.
‘There’s a bit of a problem,’ he whispered. ‘I’ve recognised the pirate ship and the news is not good. You see, we can’t risk destroying the Ratinci orrery by sinking the ship with cannon fire, so we’ll have to board and fight it out. But that ship’s the Nasty Cupboard and its captain is none other than—’
He looked around to make sure no one was listening, then pushed his snout so close to Peter’s ear that his whiskers tickled the boy’s cheek.
‘Its captain… its captain is none other than the worst pirate who ever sailed the seas. The most awful bandit of the oceans, the most ghastly robber of the deep. A rat whose true name cannot be spoken, a rat who is only known by the fearsome weapon he employs, the rat that we call—’
‘I say,’ interrupted Doctor Norvegicus loudly as he climbed up to the poop deck. He peered through his monocle at the pirate ship. ‘Isn’t that the Nasty Cupboard? The ship captained by the most awful pirate of our times, the villainous, terrible, disgusting, horrendous rat who is known only as—’
‘Blackbread,’ finished Captain Rattus, giving up on whispering. As the name echoed out, the fur on the rats across the deck paled from black to grey and their tails began to shiver.
‘Blackbread?’ asked Peter. ‘Why is he called that?’
‘He has a magic weapon,’ explained the doctor. ‘A long thin loaf of ancient petrified black bread. It’s harder than iron and sharper than a diamond, and its magic powers make Blackbread entirely bulletproof. They bounce off the loaf and off him as well. Some have tried to fight him using only sword or cutlass, but he is too dangerous for that. Blackbread is a true master of the loaf.’
‘There’s not a rat aboard the Tumblewheel that dares to face Blackbread,’ sighed Captain Rattus. ‘Including, I’m sad to say, myself. We’ll just have to let him go.’
Chapter Eight
‘But what about my DVDs! And the Ratinci orrery!’ exclaimed Peter. ‘We have to get them back!’
‘I’m sorry, Peter,’ said the captain, and a tear glistened in his eye. ‘We dare not risk Blackbread’s anger, not even for the orrery… or your DVDs. Helmsrat, hard aport!’
The crew cheered as the Tumblewheel turned aside. Then they groaned as the Nasty Cupboard turned as well and continued sail
ing towards them.
‘The hunter becomes the hunted,’ said the doctor, peering through his monocle at the pirate ship. ‘We’ll have to fight Blackbread after all.’
‘What would happen if Blackbread lost his loaf?’ asked Peter, who’d been thinking very hard about the situation. It seemed to him that the navy rats had given up too easily.
‘Why, he’d be nothing,’ said Captain Rattus. ‘Just another bad rat to be taken in for justice. But he carries the loaf by night and day. It’s impossible! We’re all going to be taken as prisoners and sold as slaves!’
‘I was thinking that if you carried something sort of soft and sticky as a shield, Blackbread might get his loaf stuck in it,’ said Peter. ‘Then you could wrestle with him and take the loaf away.’
‘Wrestle with him?’ squeaked the captain. ‘He’s the biggest rat around! And we haven’t got a soft and sticky shield.’
‘The boy’s right!’ exclaimed the doctor, hopping up and down with excitement. ‘Why didn’t we think of it before? Our champion can use the ship’s cheese to trap the loaf. Bread and cheese go together like… like rats and whiskers. The loaf will throw itself at the cheese, whether Blackbread wants it to or not.’
‘But that cheese weighs a ton. We had to get it aboard with a crane,’ said the captain, pointing to a huge round of cheese that was lashed to the deck for safety and easy nibbling. ‘The legendary Ratercules could lift it and maybe wrestle with Blackbread, but no one here is big enough, or strong enough, or brave enough.’
‘Maybe not right this second,’ said Peter. ‘Doctor Norvegicus – when you put the spell on me, you said I’d rise like dough when words were said. Can you say just one or two of the words to make me grow bigger, but not so big that I can’t fit through the hole to Topside?’
‘There’s seven magic words to say for you to regain your proper height,’ mused the doctor. ‘I think three of them would make you a giant here, yet not so big you couldn’t get back home. I’m not entirely sure. But even if I make you big enough and strong enough, are you brave enough?’
‘Considering,’ the captain interrupted, ‘that if you don’t fight Blackbread we’ll all be taken prisoner and sold as slaves, to work in the Barbary video shops, shining discs until our paws are rubbed to stumps.’
Peter gulped and rubbed his stomach, trying to get rid of the sick feeling in his middle. What if his plan failed and he was cut to pieces by the loaf? Patrick had said he wouldn’t die, but it would hurt worse that anything, and even when he got better he’d be a slave. But if he didn’t try, there wasn’t any chance at all.
‘I’ll do it,’ he said.
Chapter Nine
The captain stared at Peter, a small tear forming in his right eye. ‘You’re a brave boy,’ he said. ‘Whatever happens, it’s been an honour to sail with you.’
‘Likewise,’ said the doctor. ‘An honour.’
Both rats saluted. Peter nodded. Then the three of them turned to look at the approaching enemy.
The Nasty Cupboard was sailing fast towards the Tumbleweed. Hundreds of pirates hung off the rigging and stood along the deck, all of them laughing and shouting threats. On the poop deck, one rat stood alone. A huge black rat with pink eyes, wearing a coat the colour of old compost. In his hand he held a long loaf of petrified black bread that seemed to cast a cloud of darkness all around him, despite the summer sun.
It could only be Blackbread. As Peter watched, he raised the sharp stick of bread and bellowed, ‘Run ’em down and board ’em, and I’ll make ’em meet the loaf!’
Rats screamed, the helmsrat let go of the wheel, and the Tumblewheel turned into the wind and stopped dead in the water. A few seconds later, the two ships crashed into each other with the sound of shrieking wood and shouting rats.
In those two seconds, Doctor Norvegicus whispered in Peter’s ear, ‘Hic haec hoc.’
Peter’s eyes went blurry, the world melted around him and he felt himself stretching out. In the first second he was half as tall as the doctor, and then the doctor was only as high as his waist.
‘Quick! Undo the cheese!’ shouted Peter.
His voice was so loud that it blew the doctor’s hat off and it shut up all the screaming sailors. Both ships fell silent as Blackbread jumped on to the deck of the Tumblewheel.
He waved the gleaming black loaf above his head and cried, ‘A Topside champion? You dare to face Blackbread?’
‘Yes!’ cried Peter. He grabbed a rope, swung down to the cheese and lifted the huge round over his own head. But before he could throw it, Blackbread darted forward, thrusting the terrible loaf straight at Peter’s guts.
Peter sucked in his stomach and the point of the loaf whistled through the air. Blackbread spat upon the deck and pulled the loaf back for another stab.
‘You’re not much of a hero,’ he sneered, and he laughed a particularly evil laugh.
But Blackbread’s laugh faltered as the loaf in his hand suddenly twitched and wriggled of its own accord. The pirate’s bushy eyebrows rose in surprise as his paw jerked forward and jiggled from side to side as if the loaf was trying to hurl itself at the cheese.
Peter held his breath, partly because he was so excited but also because the cheese really stank. It looked like his plan was going to work!
‘Stop!’ screamed Blackbread. He gripped the loaf with both paws and even wrapped his tail around it. But the fearsome bread slowly inched itself out of his grasp.
‘Nooooo!’ howled Blackbread. His paws grappled with the air as the loaf launched itself at the cheese like a rocket. It struck so hard that it almost completely disappeared, only the end of its blackened crust still visible.
Quick as a flash, Peter threw the cheese and loaf into the sea. The round bobbed up once like a giant cork, then sank, the bright yellow of the cheese disappearing into the dark blue of the ocean’s depths.
Chapter Ten
‘I’ve lost my loaf,’ said Blackbread, and he sat down on the deck and started to cry. His crew, who moments before had been the fiercest pirates afloat, started to blubber as well. Soon the entire crew of the Nasty Cupboard were weeping and gnashing their teeth. They didn’t stop wailing or offer any resistance even as they were put in chains for the voyage back to port.
While the pirates were being chained up, other rats searched the Nasty Cupboard for the stolen DVDs. Doctor Norvegicus went too, to try and find the Ratinci orrery.
‘Well done, Peter,’ said Captain Rattus. ‘Quick thinking and brave to boot! If you ever want to make the Royal Rat Navy your career, you need only say the word.’
‘Wouldn’t I have to be a rat?’ asked Peter.
‘A technicality,’ replied the captain, waving a paw. ‘Besides, I’m sure the doctor could turn you into one. Would you like to give it a try? It’s really quite excellent, I assure you. A nice furry body, a tail to balance with, fantastic teeth—’
‘No, no thank you,’ interrupted Peter. ‘I really should be getting back as soon as I can.’
‘Pointy ears,’ continued the captain. He took off his hat to show how he could turn and tilt his own fine ears. ‘Ah, there’s the doctor back, and a couple of the lads with some loot… I mean reclaimed cargo.’
‘My DVDs!’ exclaimed Peter, rushing over to take them. He hadn’t recognised the package as DVDs because they were still the same size as they’d been Topside, and so looked enormous.
‘I have the Ratinci orrery,’ exclaimed the doctor, putting a box down on the deck. ‘Take a look in here, Peter.’
Norvegicus pointed at a small brass-rimmed peephole in the top of the box. Peter looked in.
At first, all he could see was a white mist. But it slowly cleared and he saw that the box contained an amazingly beautiful globe made of gold and silver wire. All the countries of the Neverworld were there, and Peter saw that he could concentrate on just one country and it would grow bigger and bigger, and if he kept looking, it would focus on a single village or even a house or a clump of trees. And
sometimes there would be a glowing spot next to the trees or the house or the lake, and silvery letters would spell
out a time and date and other numbers and letters that he didn’t understand.
‘It’s fantastic!’ cried Peter. ‘It’s showing where all the holes are through to my world, isn’t it?
‘And other worlds,’ said Doctor Norvegicus. ‘I have already used it to find a world-hole to send you home. It’ll take you back to where we met, only a few minutes after we left.’
‘Oh,’ said Peter. ‘Couldn’t I stay longer and still get back in time? I’m enjoying my adventure now we’ve got Blackbread all chained up.’
He glanced over at the still blubbering pirate captain, who was now almost hidden under his wrapping of many chains.
‘I’m afraid you have to go now, Peter,’ said the doctor. ‘There are only a few world-holes suitable so we should use the closest one while we can. You still have one small adventure left though.’
‘I do?’ asked Peter.
‘Yes,’ said the doctor, smiling. ‘The hole isn’t on land. So we will have to climb the mast to get to it and jump to the rope ladder.’
Peter looked up at the mast towering over him and gulped. It seemed very, very high, and with the rocking of the ship, the mast moved a lot from side to side.
‘Are you coming with me?’ he asked. He didn’t like the thought of climbing up so high alone, and then having to jump…
