‘Hello, Whisker,’ she said in an elegant voice. ‘Staying alive, I see?’
‘Only just,’ Whisker replied honestly. ‘And you, Madam Pearl?’
‘Oh, you know me,’ Madam Pearl said with a sly smile. ‘Living it up as a black-market antiques dealer-turned-fugitive; bunking down in the basement of Rat Bait’s bungalow.’ She sighed. ‘Still, a musty basement beats a prison cell.’
‘You should see all the cool diving gear Madam Pearl brought with her, Whisker,’ Horace broke in. ‘We were going to dive for your bod –’ He cut himself off.
‘It was meant as a last resort,’ Madam Pearl clarified.
Whisker gulped at the thought.
‘Maybe we’ll find another use for it?’ Horace said.
‘Maybe …’ Whisker considered, an idea forming in his mind.
Madam Pearl interrupted his thoughts.
‘Whisker,’ she said hesitantly. ‘As I promised, I made a few enquiries about your family.’
Whisker guessed by the tone of her voice that the news wasn’t good.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘No one saw or heard anything.’
‘Thanks – anyway,’ Whisker mumbled, unable to hide his disappointment.
‘On another note …’ Madam Pearl began.
She was cut off by a whistle from Rat Bait, eager to introduce her to the Hermit.
‘I’ll tell you later,’ she whispered to Whisker.
Whisker gave her a weary nod and followed Horace into the navigation room. He removed his sword and the map from his belt and laid them on the table. Yawning deeply, he slumped down in a cushioned chair.
‘I’m all ears, Horace,’ Whisker said. ‘Fill me in from the top. Last I remembered you were being towed out to sea by a giant eel.’
‘Oh, him,’ Horace snorted. ‘He was a nasty piece of work. Ugly, for a start, and far too persistent for my liking. We were halfway across the Cyclone Sea before we managed to sever all the ropes – my, err, net was stronger than it looked.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Whisker muttered. ‘So, what happened next?’
‘Fred saw the eel disappear in pursuit of a school of herrings. I guess the horrid brute run out of puff and settled for an easy meal. After that, the wind blew us to the south. We had to bail pretty hard to stay afloat, but in the end we reached the harbour of Drumstick Island.’
‘Is that when you found Rat Bait?’ Whisker asked.
‘Not straight away,’ Horace explained. ‘We went in search of Fred’s mates, the hamsters – you can thank them for the jelly tarts. Anyway, they mentioned that a new rat had moved into the retirement resort and Pete had a sneaky suspicion it was Rat Bait. Gossip travels fast in retirement circles and Rat Bait found us before we found him. He told us he’d been harbouring a fugitive from Port Abalilly, Madam Pearl. She made her way to the island after the Blue Claw disbanded their naval blockade.’
Horace lowered his voice. ‘Between you and me, I think Rat Bait and Madam Pearl have a soft spot for you, Whisker. The instant they heard you’d dived in to save the Captain, they offered to do whatever they could to find you.’
Whisker wasn’t sure if he should feel honoured or embarrassed. It seemed he was making a regular habit of picking up scoundrels for friends.
‘So how did you know where to find us on the island?’ he asked.
‘It was a combination of poor weather, shonky navigation and remarkably good luck,’ Horace replied. ‘We were racing towards the island when the morning mist closed in. It was near impossible to see where we were going. When the mist finally cleared, we found ourselves way off course to the east. Fortunately, Fred spotted your little performance on the cliff top. We loaded the cannons and waited for the countdown. I know jelly tarts aren’t technically pies, but who’s complaining?’
‘Sabre, for a start,’ Whisker laughed. ‘I’ve never seen a captain with so much jelly up his nose. Your shooting was pie-point accurate.’
Horace brushed the comment aside with his hook. ‘Argh, don’t mention it. It’s what friends do, right?’
Whisker nodded. ‘Jelly tarts all the way.’
‘Speaking of food,’ Horace said. ‘What’s with the onions?’
Whisker sniffed an armpit. ‘Oh, the onions. Well, that’s a long story …’
‘Go on,’ Horace said, eagerly.
Whisker collected his thoughts. ‘It all began when yours truly did something rather clumsy and dropped the key over the side of the ship.’
Horace looked puzzled.
‘But Ruby …’ he gasped.
‘I know, I know,’ Whisker said, cutting him off. ‘She’ll be furious with me.’ He reached his paw into his pocket. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got something to calm her down.’
He pulled out Ruby’s crimson eye patch.
Horace’s jaw dropped. ‘W-w-where did you get that?’
‘Siamese Sally,’ Whisker said casually. ‘I’m guessing she found it in the Cyclone Sea – I’m not the only one who drops things overboard.’
Horace’s eyes grew larger than pie platters.
‘Th-that’s impossible,’ he spluttered. ‘Ruby’s eye patch vanished from her room on Drumstick Island.’
Friend or Foe
Horace snatched the eye patch from Whisker’s paw and hastily stuffed it under his shirt.
‘Not a word to anyone,’ he hissed. ‘Understand?’
‘Of course,’ Whisker said, confused. ‘But …?’
‘I’ll explain later,’ Horace whispered. ‘Bring the map and follow me. There’s something you need to see.’
Horace led Whisker down the stairs to Ruby’s cabin. They found her door securely locked. Horace glanced suspiciously around the corridor and gave the door a firm knock with his hook.
‘Go away!’ came a muffled cry from inside.
‘Let us in, Ruby,’ Horace pleaded. ‘We need to talk to you.’
‘What about?’ Ruby hissed.
Horace looked at Whisker for an answer. Whisker shrugged, clueless as to what was going on.
Horace moved his lips to the key hole and whispered, ‘Onions.’
‘Is Whisker with you?’ Ruby asked, a little more interested.
‘Err, yes,’ Whisker said, sniffing his second armpit. ‘We’ve got a present for you – don’t worry, it’s not an onion.’
There was a pause followed by the soft click of a key turning in the lock. Horace gave Whisker a hooks-up.
Ruby opened the door and pulled the two rats inside, locking the door behind them. She plonked herself down in a red beanbag and folded her arms.
‘Well?’ she asked, impatiently.
‘Lovely to see you too, Ruby,’ Horace muttered, pulling out the crimson eye patch and throwing it into her lap.
Ruby took one look at the eye patch and leapt to her feet.
‘You little thief!’ she roared. ‘I knew it was you all along. Get out of my room before you steal something else.’
She grabbed Horace by the shoulders and marched him towards the door.
‘A little help please, Whisker,’ Horace squeaked.
Whisker stepped sideways, blocking the door.
‘Get out of my way!’ Ruby hissed.
‘Come on, Ruby,’ he pleaded. ‘Horace didn’t steal your eye patch, I gave it to him.’
Ruby pushed Horace aside and glared at Whisker. ‘You’re lying! Someone stole that eye patch from my room on Drumstick Island while I was taking a bath, and it couldn’t have been you. You were stuck here on onion island.’
‘They’re all valid points,’ Horace said, ‘But if you just let us explain …’
‘I don’t want your filthy explanations!’ Ruby shouted. ‘I want you both out of my room.’
Whisker refused to budge. ‘Why don’t you smell it?’
‘Smell what?’ Ruby snapped.
‘Your eye patch, of course,’ Horace chimed in. ‘You’ll be un-pleasantly surprised.’
Ruby cautiously moved the eye patch to her no
se and took a sniff. She frowned and sniffed again.
‘Kitty litter and sardines,’ she said, perplexed. She studied the eye patch closely and then hastily pulled it away. ‘Oooh, gross! It’s covered in cat hair.’
‘Siamese cat hair to be precise,’ Horace clarified.
Ruby shook the eye patch furiously in front of her. ‘What’s Siamese cat hair doing on my eye patch? Siamese Sally was never in my room.’
‘Exactly,’ Horace said. ‘But someone else was.’
Ruby looked horrified. ‘Who?’
Horace shrugged. ‘It could have been anyone on this ship. The rooms of the bungalow were all connected and none of the doors had internal locks.’
Ruby sat down in the beanbag and began to pluck cat hair from the eye patch.
‘Can I have my apology now?’ Horace asked cautiously.
‘You’re still a suspect,’ Ruby muttered. ‘Everyone’s a suspect – except Whisker, and my uncle.’
‘Don’t forget the Hermit,’ Whisker said. ‘I doubt he’s been in anyone’s room for years.’
Ruby sighed. ‘Oh him, the scoundrel who’s not a scoundrel … I should probably talk to him, shouldn’t I? I mean, he’s my grandfather after all.’
Whisker nodded. ‘You’ll like him, Ruby.’
Ruby stared straight at Whisker. ‘Go on. What is he like?’
‘Err, he’s a bit wind-swept around the edges,’ Whisker replied truthfully, ‘but once you get past the onion odour, you’ll find he’s a top grandfather – not that I know much about grandfathers. My grandfather ran away before my father was even born and I never met my great-grandfather Anso, the famous explorer and story teller …’ Whisker realised he was blabbering – a common occurrence when Ruby was staring at him.
He returned to the topic. ‘You should see your grandfather’s fighting moves. He’s got a sensational roundhouse kick. I think he knows rat-fu or something.’
Ruby smiled. ‘I might have to ask him for some fighting tips.’
‘Ahem,’ Horace interrupted. ‘If we’re done with the family talk, we still have a small problem: There’s potentially a thief on our ship.’
‘But why would anyone want to steal my eye patch and give it to the Cat Fish?’ Ruby asked.
‘To convince us you were dead,’ Whisker said coldly. ‘And they almost pulled it off. It’s a good thing they didn’t factor jelly tarts into the equation.’
‘But why target me?’ Ruby said, confused. ‘Pete’s the second in command.’
‘You’re forgetting something,’ Horace said. ‘You’re the Captain’s niece and Whisker’s g – err, good friend.’
Both Whisker and Ruby blushed the colour of the eye patch.
Horace continued talking through the awkward moment. ‘I think it’s time we showed him, Ruby.’
‘S-showed me what?’ Whisker asked with burning cheeks.
Ruby crept to the far corner of the room and prised a loose board from the wall. She stuck her paw into the cavity and removed a small pink bundle. Whisker recognised it immediately as Ruby’s pink Pie Rat flag.
Ruby carefully unfolded the flag to reveal a pink-lipped Pie Rat skull with a crossed lollypop and candy cane. Beneath the skull lay the King’s Key.
Whisker stared in wonder.
‘You’re not as clumsy as you thought,’ Horace said.
‘But I saw it fly out of my paws,’ Whisker exclaimed.
‘But did you see it land?’ Ruby asked smugly.
‘No,’ Whisker replied.
Ruby rolled her eye. ‘Typical. Boys are always jumping to conclusions!’
‘You can’t talk!’ Horace shot back. ‘You thought I stole your eye patch.’
Ruby opened her mouth to retaliate, but Whisker jumped in before a gender war could break out. ‘Where did you find the key?’
‘It was wedged between two deck boards,’ Ruby said. ‘I kicked my toe on it while I was helping Rat Bait repair the ship.’ She glared at Horace. ‘It’s not the only thing that deserves a good kick.’
Horace deflected her comment with a flick of his hook.
‘So why was the key hidden in the wall?’ Whisker asked.
‘It’s no secret Ruby doesn’t trust our new crew members,’ Horace explained. ‘So we hid the key in the wall and circulated a rumour that it was in your pocket when you went overboard. In light of the eye patch incident, it was probably a wise move.’
‘We’ve suspected Rat Bait’s involvement with the Cat Fish for some time,’ Ruby said. ‘He knows more about the treasure than anyone.’
‘But Sabre loathes him,’ Whisker argued.
‘Exactly,’ Ruby said. ‘And it makes him the perfect spy. Rat Bait wouldn’t think twice about ratting us out to save his own skin, and there’s a strong chance he’s in cahoots with Madam Pearl. He once gave her the Forgotten Map to look after and she’s the type of two-faced weasel who would sell her sister to the Cat Fish.’
‘Ruby’s right,’ Horace said in growing dread. ‘The Cat Fish have a nasty habit of showing up at the most opportune moments. They’ve either got perfect timing or there’s a sneaky insider in our crew …’
Whisker gulped.
‘It’s not just Pearl and Rat Bait I don’t trust,’ Ruby whispered, glancing around suspiciously. ‘Mr Tribble has been acting pretty strange lately and Pete’s convinced he’s up to something.’
‘Mr Tribble?’ Whisker exclaimed. ‘No way! He’s the most honest rodent on the ship.’
‘You haven’t seen him recently,’ Horace said grimly. ‘He’s even more anxious than he used to be. He lurks in the background, listening to everything, but barely speaks a word.’
‘He did seem rather aloof when I came aboard,’ Whisker recalled. ‘He didn’t even say hello.’
Horace nodded thoughtfully. ‘Cast your mind back to Sea Shanty Island, when the Cat Fish were searching for Whisker. I clearly recall finding Mr Tribble alone in the mapmaking section of Salamander’s supply shop. We know Sabre entered the store while Mr Tribble was in there, and there was plenty of time for the two to cut a deal.’
‘Isn’t that a bit out-of-character for Mr Tribble?’ Whisker said.
‘It’s not as out-of-character as timid Mr Tribble volunteering for every one of our dangerous missions,’ Horace retorted.
‘Make that every dangerous mission except raiding the Silver Sardine,’ Ruby said. ‘It’s clear where his allegiance lies.’
As Whisker struggled to separate fact from speculation, he remembered a strange incident involving Mr Tribble and the Forgotten Map. He didn’t want to betray Mr Tribble unjustly, but his friends had a right to know.
‘There’s something I haven’t told you,’ Whisker said. ‘It happened on the night we visited Port Abalilly. I was with Mr Tribble in the Portside Boutique when the manager, Selma, brought out the Forgotten Map. I was eager to lay my paws on the map, but Mr Tribble reached out and snatched it from under my nose. He told me he needed to verify the map before I could bring it back to the ship. The strange thing was, when he did examine it, he barely unrolled a corner. I’m not sure if this means anything, but I suspect he knew more about the map than we did.’
‘Maybe he had a tipoff from the Cat Fish?’ Horace pondered. ‘There might be a secret marking on the map?’
The three rats paused to consider this new information. Whisker took out the map but couldn’t bring himself to unroll it. He felt uncomfortable. It wasn’t just the thought of Mr Tribble that worried him: it was the prospect that Rat Bait and Madam Pearl could also be back-stabbing spies. Despite their shortcomings, all three were his friends. He’d fought with them, he’d escaped danger with them and he wanted to believe they were all on his side.
Maybe they had me fooled from the start? he thought.
There was a knock at the door.
‘Dinner’s ready,’ Emmie squeaked. ‘Piping hot mashed potato pies. Come and get it!’
Whisker knew the rest of the conversation would have to wait. He retur
ned the map to its canister, while Horace wrapped the key and the eye patch inside the flag. Ruby placed the flag inside the wall and pushed the board back into place.
‘I think we should tell the Captain what we know as soon as dinner is over,’ she whispered.
Whisker nodded. ‘If anyone can make sense of this situation, it’s definitely the Captain.’
Anxiously, the three rats crept from the room and Ruby locked the door behind them. In sixteen short steps they were seated at the dinner table with the rest of the crew – traitors and all.
The Sting
Dinner was an awkward time of suspicious stares and sideways glances. Pete stared at Mr Tribble. Ruby stared at Madam Pearl. The Captain glared at Rat Bait, while Horace shifted his eyes between Mr Tribble, Rat Bait and Madam Pearl. At the far end of the table, Mr Tribble stared at the floor.
Whisker sat at the cheery end of the table next to the hungry Hermit, who devoured slices of mashed potato pie quicker than Fred could serve them. In the end, Fred plonked an entire potato pie in front of him and handed him a spoon. The Hermit used his paws.
The mood lightened considerably when Ruby struck up a conversation with the Hermit about paw to paw combat. Despite Ruby’s pristine appearance and the Hermit’s dishevelled exterior, the two were remarkably similar. By the end of second helpings, both were standing on their chairs, re-enacting epic escapes from the Hermit’s past.
‘Dessert will be served shortly,’ Emmie squeaked from the doorway of the galley.
The Hermit patted his bulging belly and climbed down from his chair.
‘Hermit is stuffed like a turkey and begs to be excused,’ he said, with a small burp. ‘Hermit wishes to collect his belongings before he leaves windy, windy island.’
There had been no discussion of leaving the island, nor of staying to find the treasure, but the Hermit was clearly eager to depart.
‘I’ll come with you,’ Ruby volunteered.
The Hermit shook his head. ‘Island can be dangerous on moonless nights.’ He gave Whisker a knowing look. ‘Hermit goes alone … but maybe with protection.’
The Island of Destiny Page 9
