‘Of course, Officer,’ Whisker squealed. ‘Thank you, Officer.’
Wasting no time, he grabbed Mr Tribble’s arm and clip-clopped across the street in his heels.
‘That was easy,’ Mr Tribble mumbled.
Whisker pouted his lips. ‘Thanks to an entire floor of perfume!’
They had almost reached Pearl’s shop when a voice boomed behind them.
‘HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!’
Whisker froze. It was the voice of the Colonel.
‘What is the meaning of this, Sergeant?’ the Colonel fumed. ‘Have you forgotten your orders?’
‘No, Colonel,’ the Sergeant replied.
‘So how do you explain those two rodents?’
The Sergeant didn’t answer.
Whisker felt his tail tremble, his feet tremble and the entire left side of Mr Tribble tremble. Their cover was blown. He considered making a dash for the deserted doorway of Pearl’s Antiques, but high heels, fake eyelashes and a short-sighted companion were not a good running combination.
‘LADIES!’ the Colonel thundered.
Whisker slowly turned around.
‘Yes, Colonel,’ he replied in his highest voice.
The Colonel looked him up and down and spoke in a stern voice, ‘I’m afraid I can’t let you go.’
‘Ooh,’ Mr Tribble moaned.
Whisker elbowed him in the ribs and pulled a fake smile.
‘As you are aware,’ the Colonel said, ‘the honourable Governor has introduced new public safety laws to protect citizens from low-life thugs who roam the streets at night.’
Whisker gave him a confused nod and hoped the Colonel wasn’t referring to him.
The Colonel continued, ‘It is every soldier’s duty to escort unaccompanied ladies to their place of residence after 9 pm each evening. I sincerely apologise for the behaviour of my Sergeant for failing to provide such a service.’
The Sergeant’s eye stalks drooped.
‘Oh … is that all?’ Whisker said in astonishment. ‘Apology accepted. And seeing as you’re all rather busy this evening, let’s forget the whole thing ever happened and we’ll be on our way …’
‘No, I’m afraid that will never do,’ the Colonel said firmly.
Mr Tribble let out another ‘Ooh.’ Whisker gave him a prod with his heel.
The Colonel cleared his throat, ‘Ahem. I can see you are both extremely anxious to get home. Therefore, to uphold the fine reputation of the Blue Claw, I would like to offer you the services of my private buggy to take you to your place of lodging.’
Whisker stared back in bewilderment.
‘Did he just offer us a free taxi ride?’ Mr Tribble whispered.
The Colonel gave a shrill whistle and the next moment, a four-wheeled buggy pulled by two blue-tongue lizards hurtled down the street.
‘Speedy and efficient,’ the Colonel said proudly, as the buggy pulled up beside them. ‘I’d offer you an escort as well, but as you can see, my soldiers are rather preoccupied.’ He pointed to a line of wanted posters stuck to the side of the cart. Each poster was identical.
‘What a nasty looking fellow,’ Mr Tribble remarked, climbing into the padded seat of the buggy. ‘Keep him right away from me, thank you very much!’
Whisker stared in horror at the familiar face and wondered how much Mr Tribble could actually see.
‘Where to?’ asked a blue-tongue, flicking out its tongue.
‘The S-Sleepy Inn,’ Whisker stammered, taking his seat.
‘Certainly,’ the lizard replied, jolting the buggy into action. ‘We’ll be there before you know it.’
‘What about checkpoints?’ Mr Tribble added nervously.
‘Checkpoints?’ hissed the second lizard. ‘You’re in the Colonel’s buggy. There are no checkpoints.’
Like a member of the royal family, Whisker crossed the bridge of Whiteshore in a buggy decorated with his portrait. The Forgotten Map lay hidden beneath his floral frock and Mr Tribble dozed peacefully beside him. They had escaped.
After disembarking at the Sleepy Inn, they retraced their steps through the quiet streets of Whiteshore towards the sandy dunes of the beach. Apart from a wolf-whistling garbage collector, the village lay in slumber. They found the boat on the sand where they had left it, and as silently as they had arrived, they pushed off from the shore and began the final leg of their journey to the Apple Pie.
The moon hung low over the calm ocean and the jagged shapes of distant wrecks left long shadows on the sparkling surface of the sea. Whisker paid no attention to the scenery. His mind was on the map. As the small boat drew closer to the ship, he felt his excitement growing.
‘Boat ahoy!’ Fred cried through the stillness. ‘On the side of the ship with the star. Two passengers wearing dresses.’
With the sound of scampering feet, five rats, two mice and a blowfly rushed onto the deck.
‘Who goes there?’ Pete sniffled. ‘I can smell you but I can’t see you.’
‘It’s us,’ Whisker called back, ‘Whisker and Mr Tribble.’
‘In dresses!’ Pete exclaimed. ‘You’re supposed to be on official Pie Rat business, not dress rehearsing for the Sea Shanty Theatre!’
‘Err … Act Two called for a costume change,’ Whisker replied, trying to humour him.
Emmie giggled, Pete snorted, and in the darkness Whisker was certain Ruby rolled her eye.
‘Never mind the disguises,’ Horace said excitedly, ‘Did you get the map?’
‘Of course we did,’ Mr Tribble groaned. ‘Why else would we return looking like this? Now hurry up and help us aboard.’
Eaton’s lantern was lit, a rope ladder was lowered and the two frocked adventurers were pulled onto the deck.
Mr Tribble embraced the twins and Whisker straightened his skirt as Horace rushed over to greet him.
‘So where is it?’ Horace cried.
‘Umm … the map’s kind of hidden,’ Whisker murmured.
Horace stared at Whisker’s figure-hugging frock.
‘Oh, I see,’ he chuckled. ‘Or should I say, I don’t see?’
‘Perhaps Whisker would like to change into something more comfortable first?’ the Captain suggested.
Horace stepped aside and Whisker was suddenly face-to-face with Ruby.
‘Hi, Ruby,’ he said, feeling extremely embarrassed.
‘Hi yourself, sister,’ she replied with a wry grin. ‘I’ve got your swords as promised … but I don’t think they’ll go with your handbag.’
Whisker blushed.
‘Let the poor princess be,’ Horace mused. ‘I think he looks stunning, and smells divine!’
Whisker blushed a brighter pink and headed straight for his cabin.
The navigation room was the perfect place to unveil the Forgotten Map. The table had been cleared and only the map of the Crescent Sea lay open in readiness – the Captain clearly hoped the mysterious island lay somewhere close by.
Whisker walked into the room looking like himself again, though still smelling like a florist’s shop on Valentine’s Day.
He held the crumpled scroll in one paw. His other paw rested on the hilt of his green scissor sword. For the first time in his life, he felt like a Pie Rat. He knew he still had five tests to pass before he was a full member of the crew, but he had his sword, and he carried something that every pirate dreamed of.
‘Here’s your map,’ he said, handing the scroll to the Captain.
‘Our map,’ the Captain replied.
Ruby and Horace nodded. Whisker was one of them.
Whisker’s tail tingled, Smudge buzzed his wings, Eaton and Emmie stood on their toes and the others held their breath as the Captain slowly unrolled the map.
At first, all Whisker could see was yellowed paper. Then a familiar symbol and the island’s coordinates appeared. Next came the verses of a strange riddle. And finally the dark outline of an island with twin mountains and steep cliffs came into view.
The whole crew gasped in disbelief. In the centre of the i
sland, between the two mountains, was a key-shaped hole.
Horace thumped his hook on the table. ‘Shiver me scissors! That rotten scoundrel Rat Bait has cut out the X-marks-the-spot.’
Pete pointed a bony finger at Mr Tribble. ‘Know-it-all Tribble was supposed to check the map.’
‘I did,’ Mr Tribble quivered, glancing at Whisker. ‘And the map is genuine … take a look at the riddle.’
The crew peered down at the riddle and the Captain read it aloud for Fred’s sake:
My key is not found in the ground.
It moves through air without a sound.
A treasure for a rich king’s throne,
its guard appears as leaves and stone.
Dark and Treacherous your voyage may be,
keep Hope in your sights as you pass through the Sea.
Uncover the key and enlighten your mind,
but wisdom is found in the shadows behind.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Fred mumbled.
‘I believe we need a key,’ the Captain answered.
Horace thumped his hook on the table a second time and roared, ‘Rat Bait should have told us that.’
‘Rat Bait conveniently failed to mention a few details,’ the Captain growled, ‘including the key …’
‘And that blasted riddle,’ Pete chimed in. ‘How’s a bit of hoity-toity poetry going to lead us to the key? Rich king’s throne, what rubbish!’
‘Perhaps we should ask an historian?’ the Captain said.
‘Well …’ Mr Tribble muttered, fumbling with his glasses, ‘let me see … Rich king’s throne … now where have I heard that before?’ He looked across at the map of the Crescent Sea. ‘Ah, yes. Here it is. The precise location of the key. I’m afraid I don’t understand the first two lines of the riddle or the entire second verse, but the second two lines are rather obvious.’ He went on to explain, ‘Many years ago before there were governors, the Crescent Sea was ruled by wealthy ape kings. They didn’t live on Aladrya like our governors do; they lived on …’
‘The Island of Kings!’ Horace exclaimed, pointing to a large island to the west of Aladrya.
‘Exactly,’ Mr Tribble agreed.
‘But rich kings live on islands all over the world,’ Pete said sceptically.
‘True,’ Mr Tribble considered. ‘But that’s where the fourth line is important: Its guard appears as leaves and stone. The ancient kings built a lavish mountain citadel in the middle of the jungle. After they left, the jungle vines covered its crumbling stone walls. The throne tower still stands, but the path is overgrown and no one has attempted to reach it in years.’
‘Of course!’ Whisker gasped. ‘A ruined citadel in the middle of a wild jungle would be the perfect guard. And the key must be hanging in the tower. That would explain the first two lines: My key is not found in the ground. It moves through air without a sound.’
The Captain nodded in agreement.
‘It sounds dangerous,’ Pete sniffled. ‘Can’t we just head straight for the treasure? We know where the island is: north-north-west of Drumstick Island – straight through the Cyclone Sea. Isn’t that enough danger for everyone?’
The Captain gave Pete a stern look. ‘Don’t you remember what Rat Bait told us? Ratsputin lacked all he needed for the quest. I believe my Father went to the island without the key and it ended in disaster. I won’t make that same mistake …’
The crew fell silent.
It was Ruby who finally dared to speak.
‘This is the good ship Apple Pie,’ she said boldly, ‘not the sunken ship Princess Pie. We know what we need, and we know where to find it. So I say we hunt down this king’s key. A few strangling vines and rat-eating plants won’t stop a sharp scissor sword.’
‘Hear! Hear!’ Horace cried.
‘Count me in,’ Whisker said, tapping the hilt of his sword.
Smudge raised four arms in the air.
‘I’d like to go,’ Fred said hesitantly, ‘but can plants really eat rats?’
‘Not big rats,’ Horace reassured him.
Fred winked his giant eye. ‘It’s an aye from me, then.’
The Captain smiled at his crew and turned to Mr Tribble. ‘What about you and the twins? We could use your knowledge of the island.’
Mr Tribble lowered his glasses.
‘I know it’s dangerous,’ he said, ‘but I did promise the children we’d visit a jungle on our adventure …’
‘Hooray!’ Emmie cheered, giving him a big hug.
Eaton agreed, with a sheepish nod.
‘Oh, my precious paws,’ Pete groaned. ‘It looks like we’re all going.’
‘And we can’t do it without you,’ Horace grinned. ‘Who else has the brains to solve the second part of the riddle? You’re the expert when it comes to wisdom.’
‘Phooey!’ Pete snapped.
Horace shook his hook at him. ‘Rotten pies to you, too!’
Whisker’s mind drifted from the conversation. He gazed through the open doorway and out to sea. Somewhere beyond the horizon stood a crumbling jungle tower where a secret key awaited him. Somewhere across the Cyclone Sea lay a mysterious island with a fabled treasure. And somewhere in between, in a little red boat, he hoped, was his family.
Whisker turned back to the crew.
Horace and Pete were still bickering.
The Captain and Mr Tribble pondered over the map.
Eaton tinkered with his lantern.
Emmie danced around Fred in a pair of gold stilettos.
Smudge searched for pie crumbs under the table and Ruby frowned at a scratch on her sword.
Somewhere close by was Whisker’s second family – his Pie Rat family.
Book 2
The King’s Key
In the thrilling sequel to The Forgotten Map, Whisker and the Pie Rats embark on their quest to find the hidden key.
With the Cat Fish out for revenge and a host of jungle dangers lurking around the ruined citadel, Whisker will need more than just clever plans to survive …
Discover more about the Pie Rats at:
www.pierats.com.au
The Forgotten Map Page 21
