The Last of the Sky Pirates

by Paul Stewart

  Xanth lowered the crossbow. ‘Rook? Rook Barkwater.’ His dark eyes narrowed. ‘Is that you?’ Rook raised his goggles. Their eyes met. From behind Xanth came the sound of heavy boots pounding closer and closer. Rook’s heart hammered furiously in his chest. Xanth stepped forwards.

  ‘Please, Xanth,’ said Rook quietly. ‘For friendship’s sake—’

  The pounding of the boots grew louder. The unit of guards was almost upon them.

  Xanth raised his crossbow and took aim. Rook closed his eyes.

  There was a click, a twang and a whistle as the crossbow loosed its bolt and sent it speeding towards the Stormhornet. Rook froze. The next instant – with a soft thwpp – the bolt sliced through the tether-rope and the Stormhornet catapulted forward into the air.

  Seizing control of the skycraft, Rook darted up and off into the swirling mists. He flicked the pinner-rope to the left and felt the Stormhornet gather speed beneath him. As he flew on, he glanced over his shoulder and glimpsed Xanth – his shaven head gleaming in the bright rising sun – standing in the middle of a large group of Guardians.

  Had Xanth shot the bolt through the tether-rope on purpose, deliberately setting him free? Rook desperately wanted to think so. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered.

  As he left the Tower of Night behind, he saw the Skyraider in the sky up in front. But something was wrong. It wasn’t waiting for him. Instead, listing heavily to one side, it was gathering speed. Past Undertown it went, with the boom-docks ahead …

  If it didn’t change course, it would sail over the great jutting Edge itself, and be lost in Open Sky.

  ealigning the nether-sail, Rook stood up in the stirrups and sped forwards. As he battled to get closer to the Skyraider, he realized just how bad the situation had become. The flight-rock seemed to be crumbling, with ever larger chunks falling down from the cage. What was more, without its hull-weights, the sky ship looked out of control and at the mercy of the turbulent wind that held it in its grip.

  As the Skyraider careered over the boom-docks, Rook could see the banderbears abandoning ship. With their parawings strapped to their backs, they leaped off the balustrades, tugged their rip-cords and sailed down to the ground below – Old Molleen, with no flight-rock left to tend; Wuralo, the female whose life he had saved at the Foundry Glade; and Wumeru, his friend. Last to jump was Weeg. As he launched himself off from the deck, Rook saw that he was carrying a ragged bundle in his paws. He gasped.

  It was Cowlquape, wrapped up in the banderbear’s protective embrace, like a babe in arms. The pair of them were swooping down through the sky towards the boom-docks. Pulling on the pinner-sail, Rook set the Stormhornet on a path to meet them. A cloud rolled in and he lost sight of the distant Skyraider.

  ‘I just hope they’ve all made it,’ Rook murmured, as he approached the muddy shores of the boom-docks and swooped in to land.

  He brought the Stormhornet down next to one of the great overflow pipes that would lead them back into the labyrinth of sewer tunnels. The banderbears were huddled together.

  ‘Where’s the captain?’ called Rook, tethering the Stormhornet and rushing over. Cowlquape pointed at the clearing horizon. Rook’s eyes followed the direction of his bony finger.

  High up in the sky and far out beyond the Edge, the Skyraider was still airborne – but only just. With no weights left to balance it, the sky pirate ship was on its side, juddering as it sailed on. The useless weight-ropes dangled; the sails flapped in the gathering wind. Rook raised his telescope to his eye and focused in on the helm.

  ‘I can see him!’ he said, his voice breaking with emotion. ‘Why doesn’t he abandon her?’

  Wumeru was suddenly by Rook’s side. ‘Wuh-wug. Weela-lugg.’ He is mortally wounded, a crossbow bolt in his back. She hung her head. He chooses to die with his sky ship.

  They stood there, side by side, arms raised to shield their eyes from the sun, watching the great sky ship sailing away.

  ‘He was so brave,’ Rook trembled. ‘So selfless …’ Suddenly, the Skyraider was flying no longer. The buoyant flight-rock had died, and the sky ship was dropping out of the sky like a stone. Down it came, gathering speed as it fell, before – in the blink of an eye – disappearing below the Edge. Rook gasped. Tears welled in his eyes. ‘Oh, Captain Twig,’ he murmured.

  Wumeru clapped her arm around his shoulder and squeezed warmly. ‘Wuh-wuh,’ she said. Wumeru is truly sorry.

  Rook sniffed, and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. Captain Twig was gone. For ever.

  He turned back to where Cowlquape, Weeg and Molleen stood waiting. ‘Come,’ he said, ‘the librarian scholars will welcome us in the sewers. I know the way.’

  He looked back at the Edge one last time, standing silently for a moment, and was about to turn away when he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye. Something huge. Something flapping … He squinted into the misty distance. It was a bird. A magnificent black and white bird with vast wings and a long, spreading tail.

  ‘What’s that?’ Rook breathed.

  ‘Why it’s a caterbird,’ said Cowlquape. ‘I do believe it’s a caterbird!’

  ‘It’s magnificent,’ said Rook. ‘But wait … What’s it got in its claws? Look!’ He pointed at the small bundle clutched tightly in the enormous creature’s great curved talons.

  Cowlquape gasped. ‘Of course – it has to be! I should have known at once!’ He laughed joyfully and clapped his hands. ‘It is the caterbird. The one whose hatching Twig was present at when he was a lad. The one who has watched over him ever since!’

  Rook stared, wide-eyed. ‘I wonder where it’s taking him.’

  Cowlquape shook his head. ‘That I couldn’t tell you, young librarian.’

  The caterbird, with its precious load swinging below its great body, had wheeled round in the sky and was heading towards the Deepwoods. Suddenly Twig’s words came back to Rook – about his quest; his endless, futile quest to return to his waiting crew.

  ‘There’s only one place it could be taking him,’ he said, his heart soaring. ‘To Riverrise.’

  he old nightmare was back. The baying whitecollar woodwolves, their eyes flashing, their teeth bared and fur bristling. His father shouting, his mother screaming. Running … Running … Got to escape the wolves … Got to shake off the slave-takers …

  Now he was alone, lost and wandering through the dark, menacing forest. Eyes glinted at him from the shadows. Growls, grunts and bloodthirsty cries echoed in the darkness. All at once he heard something else. Something close by – and coming closer, closer.

  He looked up. A massive creature was looming towards him … But wait … Shouldn’t he wake up now, just as he always did?

  This time, however, was different. This time the creature continued inexorably towards him. He could hear its footfall, feel its hot, moist breath in his face. Sobbing loudly, knowing there was no escape, Rook reached out with his hand – into the darkness, into the unknown.

  His fingers brushed against thick, warm fur. His heart pounded; his legs went weak. The sound of low, lulling grunts whispered into his ear as he was swept up off the ground and enfolded in the creature’s huge, but gentle arms.

  They smelt mossy. They cuddled him warmly tenderly. Cradling him. Protecting him. Rook had never felt so safe or known so much comfort …

  ‘Rook, are you awake?’

  Rook’s eyes opened. He knew that voice. He looked round the small, cosy room. The ornate oil lamp on the writing desk was still burning, casting a soft amber glow into every corner of the room and spilling out across his treatise-journal which lay open on the desk beneath it – and beside his bed sat Varis Lodd.

  ‘I heard of your brave deeds from the Professor of Darkness the moment I arrived from the Free Glades,’ she said. ‘All Undertown is talking of it!’ She paused. ‘But what is it? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’

  ‘Not a ghost,’ said Rook. ‘A dream. I had a dream. A dream I’ve had many times before, only this time … Varis
, when you rescued me as a child, do you remember where exactly you found me?’

  ‘Found you?’ said Varis.

  ‘In the Deepwoods,’ he said. ‘What happened? You’ve never really said—’

  ‘You mean you don’t know?’ said Varis. ‘I had no idea. I thought they would have told you. Your parents, they were taken by slavers. You escaped. Earth and Sky know how. And then … Oh, Rook, it was miraculous! I found you, all healthy and plump, tucked up asleep in a nest of woven grass—’

  Rook stared at her. ‘A nest?’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Varis, nodding. ‘An abandoned banderbear nest, though how you got there, I’ve no idea.’

  Rook trembled as the memories came flooding back; the huge, enfolding arms, the warm breath, the thick fur, the steady thud of a heart beating next to his. Safe, protected, watched over, in the vast depths of the endless Deepwoods.

  ‘I know how I got there,’ said Rook, with a smile. ‘I know.’

  Praise from readers of The Edge Chronicles:

  ‘I enjoy your books because what you think is going to happen never does’

  Matthew, Durham

  ‘I absolutely LOVE your books, The Edge Chronicles!!! … My teacher read one

  of them, and my class wanted her to read it all the time!’ Megan, Cheltenham

  ‘My friends and I have chosen you as our favourite author as we all think

  your books are amazing because there are cliffhangers at the end of every

  paragraph so you just have to carry on reading. We think the creatures and

  characters are fascinating’ Yasha, Hove

  ‘I find these books truly remarkable … the characters’ situations

  are believable and very tear-jerking; it is sometimes funny, sad, happy

  and scary’ James, Enfield

  ‘I love your books and I can’t live without them and I’ve read them all. I

  went off reading because there weren’t any good books left, because of your

  books I read a lot more’ Adele, London

  ‘The Curse of the Gloamglozer was brilliant … for sky’s sake KEEP WRITING

  … I’m trying to get as many people as I can to read your books because I

  want everybody to know how good your books are’ Frederick, Reigate

  ‘I am a great fan of your books, I have got every single one. I have read

  Beyond the Deepwoods five times, Stormchaser five times, Midnight Over

  Sanctaphrax three times and I have read The Curse of the Gloamglozer twice. I

  think the best is Stormchaser as you have packed so much information and description into so little space … I think Chris Riddell’s drawings are absolutely fantastic … you and Chris make an excellent pair’ Jake, Grantham

  ‘Your books are a lifeline to me. They help me escape the world around me

  and enable me to express my true feelings like never before. They make me

  feel confident and encourage me in times of need. My friend tells me that

  you’re writing a new book, I can’t wait! My favourite book is The Curse of the

  Gloamglozer. I love the way that everything is so detailed and “not as it

  seems”’ Jack, Carlisle

  ‘Your books have kept me on the edge of my seat every time I have read them

  … Please publish another book, my life depends on it!!!’

  Jacob, Canterbury

  ‘I enjoy your books so much I couldn’t stop reading them. I am dyslexic so it

  makes it harder for me to read but as soon as I started to read

  your books my reading got better. Please bring out a sixth book’

  Anastasia, Hemyock, Devon

  ‘I recently finished The Curse of the Gloamglozer (it took me three days to

  read) and once again you have produced a book of brilliance’ Alex, London

  ‘When I finished your last Edge Chronicle I felt like I was losing a million

  good friends’ Sophie, Sevenoaks

  ‘Midnight over Sanctaphrax is so cool!! It is so much better than Harry Potter.

  My class teacher is reading Beyond the Deepwoods and that is better than any

  other fantasy book’ Matthew, Peterborough

  ‘It’s rare to find a book so rich in ideas, beautifully written and yet so accessible to young children, so

  thank you!’ Teacher in Brighton

  ‘The reason I love your books is because I love horrible creatures … and

  because I’m very good at imagining strange and hideous things just like you

  … [Chris Riddell’s] pictures are so incredible, so detailed, I’d never

  understand quite what the Edge looked like without them’ William, London

  ‘I was searching for imagination, adventure, mystery and magic and I found

  your books … How in sky’s name did you come up with such a wonderful

  place … your books are all I can think about’ Roberta, Guernsey

  ‘I have read all of your Edge Chronicles and they are five of the best books I

  have ever read! Chris Riddell’s pictures of the characters were so much like I

  imagined them to be’ Violet, Potters Bar

  ‘Your books just capture my imagination and take me straight into their world. The pictures make the book even better!’ Leah, Crawley

  ‘I have read all of the Edge Chronicles … my personal favourites are The Curse

  of the Gloamglozer and Midnight over Sanctaphrax. And I think they are

  fantastic, a lot better than Harry Potter, because Harry always gets out of

  awkward situations by using magic, which I think is a bit phoney and

  boring, whereas your books are always exciting, and you never know what’s

  going to happen next, and Twig and Quint never seem to get out of hard

  situations, which is great. You should bring out The Last of the Sky Pirates

  soon because I am eager to read it’ Joe, Hallaton, Leics

  Published by Yearling, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books a division of Random House, Inc., New York

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Text and illustrations copyright © 2002 by Paul Stewart and Chris Riddell

  All rights reserved.

  For information address David Fickling Books.

  Visit us on the Web! www.randomhouse.com/kids

  Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at www.randomhouse.com/teachers

  The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition of this work as follows: Stewart, Paul.

  The last of the sky pirates / by Paul Stewart and Chris Riddell.

  p. cm.—(The Edge chronicles)

  Summary: Rook Barkwater, one of the apprentices chosen to make a dangerous journey to study in the Deepwoods, joins the sky pirate Captain Twig in opposing the Guardians of the night and learns more about his own past.

  [1. Fantasy. 2. Orphans—Fiction.] I. Riddell, Chris. II. Title. III. Series.

  PZ7.S84975Las 2005

  [Fic]—dc22

  2004013372

  eISBN: 978-0-375-89277-6

  Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

  v3.0

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Other Books By This Author

  Title Page

  Dedication

  INTRODUCTION

  Chapter 1 - THE GREAT STORM CHAMBER LIBRARY

  Chapter 2 - THE SEWERS

  Chapter 3 - THE ANNOUNCEMENT CEREMONY

  Chapter 4 - THE GREAT MIRE ROAD

  Chapter 5 - DEADBOLT VULPOON

  Chapter 6 - THE SKY PIRATE RAID

  Chapter 7 - THE TWILIGHT WOODS

 
Chapter 8 - THE EASTERN ROOST

  Chapter 9 - THE DEEPWOODS

  Chapter 10 - THE SILVER PASTURES

  Chapter 11 - STORMHORNET

  Chapter 12 - FLIGHT

  Chapter 13 - THE FOUNDRY GLADE

  Chapter 14 - FEVER

  Chapter 15 - WUMERU

  Chapter 16 - THE GREAT CONVOCATION

  Chapter 17 - THE CAPTAIN’S TALE

  Chapter 18 - SKYRAIDER

  Chapter 19 - THE TOWER OF NIGHT

  Chapter 20 - RETURN

  Copyright