The Forgotten Map

by Cameron Stelzer

  ‘That’s not my elbow,’ said the first voice. ‘That’s my skeleton key, and it better not be broken.’

  ‘If it’s broken, it serves you right for crashing on top of me!’ snapped the second voice.

  ‘Well, someone crashed on top of me,’ protested the first voice. ‘Someone fluffy.’

  ‘Get your filthy paws off my precious coat!’ snapped a third voice.

  ‘Madam Pearl,’ said the first voice. ‘I’m terribly sorry. Have you seen Whisker?’

  ‘I can’t see anything, you one-pawed fool,’ she replied angrily. ‘It’s dark and I’m squashed.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m here,’ Whisker said groggily from the top of the pile.

  ‘Get off me at once!’ Madam Pearl demanded. ‘I feel like a piece of cheese in a greasy rat sandwich.’

  ‘You ungrateful goat!’ Ruby hissed from the bottom of the heap. ‘We just saved your neck, remember.’

  ‘After you ruffians got me into this ridiculous mess and then threw me down the stairs,’ Madam Pearl retorted.

  ‘This isn’t helping,’ Whisker muttered, clambering off Madam Pearl. ‘The giant crab is still up there and the last place we want to be is stuck in a dark stairwell.’

  Grumbling and groaning, the animals untangled themselves and began fumbling down the stairs towards the prison level. Whisker led the way. It wasn’t that he wanted to be the leader, it was more a matter of urgency. Even if the spider crab didn’t pursue them, the guards in the courtyard would surely come to investigate. Whisker was weak from his loss of blood, his tail danced deliriously behind him and it wouldn’t be long before his whole body collapsed in a heap. At all costs, he must keep moving.

  He didn’t pause at the prison level. He hurried past the arsenal level, desperately hoping there wasn’t another spider crab lurking beyond the archway. Finally, staggering down the remainder of the stairs, he reached the ground floor and made his way to the courtyard door.

  He cautiously turned the handle and opened the door. The warm light of the lanterns streamed through the narrow gap.

  ‘What can you see?’ Horace whispered.

  ‘There’s a big pile of books next to the broken barrels,’ Whisker said, peering out. ‘And I can hear the guards in the entrance passage.’

  ‘Let me see,’ Ruby demanded, pushing Whisker out of the way.

  Whisker squeaked as a shot of pain ran through his shoulder. Ruby ignored him and focused on the scene through the doorway.

  ‘It’s simple,’ she said. ‘We make a dash for the pile of books, and when they’re not looking, we barge our way out.’

  ‘Rotten pies to shonky escape plans,’ Horace huffed. ‘There are more than a dozen guards, we’re unarmed, and we’d have to crawl on our paws and knees to get under the portcullis …’ He paused. ‘Any better ideas, Whisker?’

  With his head swirling with dizziness, Whisker was in no position to come up with a brilliant suggestion, but he tried to sum up the situation as best as he could.

  ‘The Captain’s plan …’ he struggled to remember, ‘was to create a diversion and draw the guards away from the entrance. What we need is a …’ He was hoping the answer would flow off his tongue, but his mind simply wasn’t up to it.

  ‘Fire,’ Madam Pearl answered for him. ‘We need a fire. If my shop or warehouse caught on fire I’d drop everything and pick up a bucket. I’m sure they would do the same.’

  ‘Okay,’ Ruby agreed. ‘We’ll start a fire. But with what? We can’t burn the books; they’re the perfect hiding spot.’

  ‘I say we throw a flaming torch in the arsenal,’ Horace said with a wishful look on his face.

  Madam Pearl glared at him. ‘Have you got clam chowder for brains? A fire is one thing; an exploding arsenal is a totally different kettle of frizzled fish! No sane crab would attempt to put it out; they’d simply turn around and scuttle the other way.’

  Horace screwed up his nose and Ruby shrugged, but Madam Pearl’s words flashed through Whisker’s clouded mind like lightning bolts of clarity.

  ‘I have it,’ he whispered excitedly. ‘A fire inside the arsenal would be disastrous, but a fire outside the arsenal would be perfect. It would be their urgent duty to put it out.’

  ‘Alright,’ Ruby said with a little more interest. ‘Where do you propose we start this fire?’

  ‘Right here,’ Whisker stated. ‘We burn down this door.’

  ‘It won’t burn,’ Ruby argued. ‘Not without kindling. And I for one won’t go back up that tower to collect more firewood.’

  ‘You won’t have to,’ Whisker replied, managing a small grin through his pain. ‘We’ve brought the kindling with us.’

  Horace frowned. ‘I didn’t bring any firewood.’

  ‘He doesn’t mean wood, you dopey Doberman!’ Madam Pearl hissed, removing her oil-drenched coat. ‘He means these.’ She handed her coat to Whisker and straightened her white silk evening dress. ‘My outfit is ruined, anyway.’

  The three rats followed Madam Pearl’s direction and removed their grey hooded coats, heaping them in an oily pile inside the door. The extent of Whisker’s shoulder wound was immediately clear. The plain grey shirt he was wearing was now a deep crimson colour. Even Ruby looked concerned.

  ‘Everyone out,’ Whisker ordered, ignoring their sympathy. ‘I’ll meet you behind the pile of books once I’ve lit the fire.’

  ‘No you won’t,’ Horace said firmly. ‘You’ve already had all the fun with the spider crab. I’m the pyromaniac of the crew, so stand aside.’

  Whisker was too weak to argue.

  Ruby opened the door and, satisfied no one was watching, tiptoed around the edge of the courtyard to the pile of books. Whisker motioned for Madam Pearl to follow and he brought up the rear.

  As he settled into a hiding position behind a sesame seed barrel, Whisker saw Horace creep out of the doorway and remove a flaming torch from the courtyard wall.

  The bustling noise of the soldiers continued.

  Horace stepped towards the door and gave it a gentle push. The door came to rest in the pile of coats. Inching closer, he held the blazing torch in his paw and prepared to hurl it inside. With a triumphant look on his face, he paused to savour the moment.

  Whisker returned a look of pure terror.

  Out of the doorway came the unmistakeable shape of a long-armed claw. With deadly speed and precision, it sprung into action and clamped its pincers around Horace’s right arm.

  Before Whisker knew what was happening, Horace was gone.

  Three Wishes

  Ignoring the danger, Whisker jumped to his feet and raced towards the open doorway of the tower.

  He’d only gone a few steps when a huge burst of flames exploded from the ground floor, knocking him to the ground. Scrambling to his knees, he saw the flaming figure of Horace rolling on the grass in front of him.

  By the time Whisker had reached his friend, the dewy grass had smothered the flames and Horace was no more than a singed and smoking ball of fur.

  Whisker grabbed his arm and pulled him behind the books as a wave of soldier crabs flooded the courtyard.

  ‘What happened?’ Ruby cried in bewilderment.

  ‘… spider crab,’ Horace puffed. ‘… took … my skeleton key.’

  Ruby shook her head. ‘That’s all you think about, isn’t it? And here I was worried about you. Well you don’t need your stinking skeleton key anymore, Horace – the front doors are already open.’

  Horace pulled his hook attachment from his belt, inserted it into his stump and mumbled, ‘Old faithful.’

  Trying to remain focused, Whisker peered towards the gatehouse and whispered, ‘Have all the guards left?’

  ‘I counted twelve crabs from the cart and three from the gatehouse,’ Madam Pearl replied.

  ‘So what are we waiting for?’ Ruby said. ‘If the boys have finished bleeding and burning, we should get a wriggle on.’

  Without waiting for a response, she bounded around the corner and
disappeared from view. Madam Pearl dashed after her and Whisker and Horace staggered behind like two wounded commandos retreating from a battlefield.

  The courtyard was thick with smoke as they made their way towards the gatehouse. Whisker could barely see the well or the frantic crabs. As predicted, the entrance passage was deserted.

  Horace and Whisker squeezed past the broken cart and slid awkwardly under the portcullis. They slipped through the narrow opening between the two wooden doors and looked out at the silhouettes awaiting them. Fred and the Captain had arrived.

  Whisker waved a weary greeting.

  ‘So nice of you to join us,’ the Captain said in a low voice. ‘Follow me if you please.’ Before Whisker had time to catch his breath, the Captain set off down the western side of the slope.

  The scramble down the hill was slow but uneventful. It was easier for the rats to crawl on all fours, and Whisker limped along at the back of the line like a three-legged dog.

  Behind him, the glow of the prison fire grew fainter as the Blue Claw went about their fireman duties. By the time Whisker reached the small clump of trees halfway down the slope, the prison was nothing more than a black shadow on the top of the hill.

  SNAP.

  Whisker heard the sound and stopped. He pricked up his ears and listened. The distant groans of the soldiers had started again. But there was something closer, something much closer.

  ‘Pssst,’ hissed a voice from the branches above him.

  Whisker jumped.

  ‘W-w-who’s there?’ he stammered.

  ‘Err … um … no one really,’ replied a familiar voice. ‘… just a bird.’

  ‘Mr Tribble, is that you?’ Whisker cried.

  There was a rustle of leaves as Mr Tribble tumbled from the tree, landing straight on top of Whisker.

  ‘Ouch …’ Whisker groaned.

  ‘I’m terribly sorry,’ Mr Tribble apologised, rolling off Whisker’s flattened body. ‘It appears my legs have gone to sleep. Trees are not the most comfortable places to hide and I had a rather long wait.’

  ‘We had a few unexpected delays,’ Whisker muttered, struggling to his knees. ‘Come on, we’d better catch up.’

  Whisker and Mr Tribble found the others hiding behind a boathouse near the dock. Smudge was with them.

  ‘Look what the rat’s dragged in,’ Horace whispered. ‘We almost forgot about Mr Tribble.’

  Mr Tribble gave him an anxious frown.

  The Captain addressed the two latecomers. ‘Smudge informs us that the Apple Pie is directly west of here. It is within swimming distance but the Blue Claw have kindly supplied us with a more civilised form of transportation.’

  Whisker looked towards the far end of the boat house. In the dim lantern light of the cargo ship he noticed a flight of stairs leading to two tiny rowboats.

  He sighed in relief. A one armed swim wasn’t on his list of things to do before you drown.

  Leaving Prison Island was the simplest part of the rescue mission. The few remaining dock guards were preoccupied with the confused cargo crew and failed to notice two small boats slip silently away.

  The Captain rowed the first boat carrying Horace, Mr Tribble and Smudge, while Fred ferried Whisker, Ruby and Madam Pearl in the second.

  As soon as they were a safe distance from the island, Madam Pearl addressed Fred. ‘Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?’

  Fred nodded politely and continued rowing.

  ‘Ah, yes,’ she said. ‘Now I remember. You belong to that low-life ghetto gang of sewer rats that loiters around the port.’

  ‘He’s a Pie Rat now,’ Ruby snapped. ‘And he helped get you out of prison. So hold your tongue or I’ll …’

  ‘Or you’ll what, Missy?’ Madam Pearl shot back.

  Ruby didn’t respond.

  ‘Humph,’ Madam Pearl snorted. ‘I thought so. You wouldn’t dare lay a paw on me. I’m far too important. Why else would you rescue me?’

  ‘The Captain …’ Whisker began. But Ruby cut him off.

  ‘You’re right, Madam Pearl. You are important. And you’re rich.’

  ‘So?’ Madam Pearl said suspiciously.

  ‘So you made us a promise in the tower,’ Ruby recalled. ‘You said that if we saved you, you would give us anything we wanted.’

  ‘Did I?’ Madam Pearl said in surprise.

  ‘Yes,’ Ruby said firmly. ‘We all heard you say it, didn’t we, Whisker?’

  Whisker grunted in confused agreement.

  ‘So what do you want?’ Madam Pearl huffed. ‘A silver-plated music box? Or perhaps a sack of golden hair clips?’

  Ruby didn’t hesitate. ‘The entry fee for the Pirate Cup.’

  ‘W-what?’ Madam Pearl stammered in shock.

  ‘And all the weapons, ammunition and supplies we need for the tournament,’ Ruby continued.

  ‘Is that all?’ Madam Pearl gasped.

  ‘Oh, and a new skeleton key for Horace,’ Ruby added.

  Madam Pearl looked horrified. ‘Do you have any idea of how much that would all cost?’

  Ruby scowled. ‘Do you have any idea of how it would feel to sit in prison for the rest of your ungrateful life?’

  Whisker could hear the rattle of pearls as Madam Pearl shook her head in defiance.

  ‘You made a promise, remember?’ Ruby hissed. ‘Think about your reputation.’

  ‘What reputation,’ Madam Pearl said angrily. ‘Thanks to the newspapers, everyone thinks I’m no better than a common pickpocket. Now they can add fugitive to the list.’

  ‘I still think you’re nice,’ Fred said unexpectedly. ‘You once gave me a whole pumpkin pie at the port. You said it had a worm in it. It had two. They were very tasty …’

  Fred’s sincerity stunned Ruby and Madam Pearl into silence.

  ‘Alright,’ Madam Pearl said, composing herself. ‘I’m a weasel of my word. I’ll agree to fund your Pirate Cup campaign.’

  ‘And?’ Ruby said.

  ‘And I’ll track down a new skeleton key for your one-pawed companion.’

  A victorious smile crept across Ruby’s face.

  ‘There’s one condition,’ Madam Pearl said. ‘I want him on the team.’

  ‘Who?’ Ruby asked, her smile quickly turning to a frown.

  ‘The bleeding rat sitting next to you, of course. The one who got us out of the prison.’

  ‘Whisker?’ Ruby said in disbelief. ‘But he’s just a shipwrecked apprentice.’

  ‘He’s a shipwrecked apprentice with brains, Missy,’ Madam Pearl snapped. ‘And he’s gold medal material. The Pirate Cup isn’t just about speed and strength. It’s about outsmarting and outwitting your opponents. I’m not funding a silver medal team. There is no silver.’

  Whisker blushed. He had never pictured himself as a gold medal winner. That was Horace’s dream. But Madam Pearl’s belief in him gave him renewed strength. For the first time in his life, he felt like a contender, even with a shattered shoulder and a troublesome tail.

  Ruby was clearly displeased with the favouritism.

  ‘You’ve changed your tune pretty quickly,’ she said in annoyance. ‘One minute you’re whining about Whisker throwing you down the stairs and the next minute he’s your pirate pin-up boy.’

  ‘I’m entitled to voice my complaints,’ Madam Pearl replied. ‘But that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate genuine talent when I see it –’ She paused and then added, ‘I’d know the difference between a painted rock and a genuine nugget of gold any day.’

  Whisker heard Ruby cursing under her breath. The insult had hit its mark, and he knew it was unfair.

  ‘Ruby’s got heaps of talent,’ he blurted out, ‘She’s the best swords-rat in the crew. And she’s a great spy …’

  ‘Shut up, Whisker!’ Ruby cried, jumping to her feet. She pushed past Fred to the front of the boat and the small vessel rocked awkwardly from side to side. Whisker grabbed his seat to avoid toppling overboard.

  ‘So much for sticking up for her,’ he m
umbled.

  Madam Pearl took Ruby’s seat next to Whisker and gave him a smile he hoped was genuine.

  ‘Whisker,’ she said, using his name for the first time. ‘I’d like to hear more about your story. What led you to become a pirate?’

  ‘My story?’ Whisker said in confusion. ‘Why do you want to hear my story?’

  Madam Pearl sighed. ‘Because the prison guards are terrible storytellers and a tale about a shipwrecked apprentice would make this uncomfortable boat ride a little more bearable.’

  She gave Whisker a look that said what are you waiting for, and Whisker felt obliged to recall his adventures.

  ‘Well,’ he began, ‘there was a circus and a cyclone …’

  For some reason, Whisker told her everything: his near death experience, his life at the circus and, most importantly, he talked about his family. He knew Ruby could overhear everything, but that still didn’t stop him.

  Madam Pearl’s uptight exterior softened as Whisker’s story went on. He wondered if she had fond memories of the circus from when she was a child, or if his great-grandfather Anso was someone she’d like to meet.

  ‘You come from a very famous sailing family,’ she said as he finished his tale. ‘And you’re survivors …’ She looked directly at Whisker and he knew she was sincere. ‘I hope you find your parents and sister … I’ll make some enquiries around the islands if I’m able to. But I don’t know how many of my old … acquaintances I can still trust. I’m a fugitive now.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Whisker mumbled.

  ‘Don’t be,’ Madam Pearl sighed. ‘As your sword-fighting friend has already pointed out, it’s far better to be flying free than sitting in a cell. Besides, the antique world has become rather tiresome of late. How does the saying go? A jail break is better than a holiday …’

  Whisker managed a polite smile. Life with the Pie Rats had certainly been no holiday.

  Somewhere to the west of Prison Island, Eaton welcomed the two boats with a cautious wave of his lantern. Apart from the light in his paw, the Apple Pie lay in darkness. Emmie and Pete stood next to him and greeted the tired escapees as they clambered aboard.