by Alex English
Lil put down her tankard and drew out a battered old tin from her pocket, dipped two fingers into the blueish-purple gunk and swiped them on to Echo’s cheeks. ‘Welcome home,’ she said, her voice shaking.
Echo’s heart swelled. She was a Black Sky Wolf! The crew banged their spoons on the table.
‘Now, let’s clear the table and show Echo how sky pirates celebrate!’ Lil took a swig of grog and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. ‘And don’t forget to stow your cutlasses below deck – we don’t want any injuries this time!’
The sky-pirate crew erupted into cheers and clashed their tankards together before draining their mugs, shoving back their seats and heaving the table aside. The ship’s foredeck suddenly buzzed with activity as they ran here and there, lighting gas lanterns, rolling barrels and clearing the floor. Then, from every corner of the ship, pirates emerged with fiddles, accordions, whistles, a double bass; one even wheeled out a little steam pianola, complete with an array of brass horns snaking their way skywards from the keyboard.
Once the deck was clear and the musicians had arranged their instruments, the bassist let out a whoop and the music started – a wild, raucous tumble of noise that made Echo grin all over again. Then the Black Sky Wolves took to the floor and soon the whole ship shook with the stamp and shuffle of booted feet on the boards, the plunk-plunk-plunk of the double bass and the wild, soaring melody of the fiddles and pipes.
Echo sat on the prow, taking it all in, not yet ready to plunge into the sea of dancers. She still couldn’t quite believe what had happened. She was a sky pirate. A real sky pirate. And she had a mother, a mother who wanted her, and who—
‘Come on, Echo!’ yelled Lil, as she flew past, grabbing Echo’s hand and pulling her down on to the deck. ‘It’s your party!’
‘But I don’t know how to—’
But Lil had spun away across the floor and Echo found herself jostled into the tide of dancing bodies. A huge hand grabbed hers and she was lifted off her feet and whisked across the deck. She looked up to see Bulkhead grinning down at her.
‘Welcome to the gang!’ he yelled over the music. ‘You’re one of us now!’
Echo grinned. She was one of them. She grabbed Bulkhead’s other hand and let him spin and whirl her across the ship, stamping her feet to the rhythm like the others.
‘You got it!’ Bulkhead shouted. ‘Just follow the beat! Ain’t no rules at a pirate dance!’
The music played faster and faster, and Echo danced ever faster too, the whole world rushing past her in a blur, her head spinning and her cheeks aching from smiling so hard.
By now, the whole crew had emerged on deck. The kitchen boys had deserted their posts down in the galley and were galloping up and down in their grease-spattered white jackets. She spotted Beti whizz past with a dazed-looking Professor Daggerwing in tow, while Horace was trying vainly to keep up with Flora, who despite her peg leg was far nimbler than him. Gilbert perched on the ship’s wheel, rocking his scaly body from side to side with the music. Even Slingshot had abandoned his watch in the crow’s nest to join in the festivities.
They danced for what seemed like hours, only stopping to take a swig of grog or to collapse, exhausted and dripping with sweat, on a barrel for a few moments, before beginning the whole thing all over again. The musicians never seemed to tire and neither did Echo. I am one of them, she thought. I’m a sky pirate, and I’m home.
Bulkhead swung her across the deck to switch partners and she almost collided with Horace, who had prised himself out of Flora’s grasp and was lurking behind the foremast. She grabbed his hand before he could protest and spun round him until they were both dizzy. The worse they danced, the more they laughed, until she finally gave in and they tumbled down in a heap under the airship’s wheel.
‘I think I’ve got a stitch,’ gasped Horace, clutching his side.
Echo nodded, attempting to get her breath back. Gilbert scuttled down the wheel and flopped down on to her shoulder with an exhausted chirp.
‘I don’t think I’ve ever danced so much,’ Horace said.
‘Me neither. I don’t think I’ve ever danced like this.’ She looked at him for a moment. Was this the time to tell him? ‘You know, my mother told me a few things about my father—’
‘Look.’ Horace pointed across the deck, the smile slipping from his face.
The music had stopped. For a moment, nobody noticed and the dance continued with a strange ring of boots on boards as everyone shuffled and creaked to a halt.
Echo saw Bulkhead turn pale beneath his stubble. Indigo Lil’s smile froze on her face.
They were all staring across the deck into the purple fog that had surrounded the ship. Echo turned to see what they were looking at.
In the noise of the dance and the darkness of the evening, nobody had noticed another airship glide silently up alongside them through the mist. There was a murmur in the crowd as the pirates reached for their weapons, then yells as they realized their sheaths were empty. They scrambled for the stairs to the quarterdeck to retrieve their cutlasses, but it was too late.
A group of uniformed soldiers brandishing swords appeared out of the shadows.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
One by one the soldiers jumped nimbly on to the deck of the Scarlet Margaret.
Echo threw herself flat behind a nearby barrel, pulling Horace and Gilbert with her. She stared as a tall, rat-faced man with a thin, greasy moustache stepped forward and unsheathed his sword. Echo’s eyes widened even further as she recognized Crawley, one of King Alfons’s senior guards.
‘Put your hands where we can see them,’ he said. ‘We are taking control of this ship in the name of King Alfons of Lockfort.’
‘But how?’ whispered Horace. ‘They don’t even have airships in Lockfort . . .’
Echo shook her head. ‘My father invented one,’ she whispered back. ‘Lil told me. They must have kept it.’
‘Your father? What do you—’
‘Shh.’ Echo shrank further behind the barrel.
‘Where is he?’ continued Crawley. As he stepped into the light of the gas lanterns, Indigo Lil strode forward, but another guard stopped her, pressing the tip of his sword to her breastbone. She gently pushed it to one side with a gloved finger.
‘I’m the captain of the Scarlet Margaret,’ she said. ‘Who exactly are you looking for?’
‘Prince Horace of Lockfort.’
‘Oh no,’ muttered Horace.
‘There’s no prince anything on this ship,’ replied Lil.
‘He was kidnapped several weeks ago and transported here. We traced him to the Port Tourbillon Butterfly House, and a clerk there informed us he was travelling to the Violet Isles.’
Horace gripped Echo’s hand. She squeezed back. ‘Don’t worry,’ she whispered. ‘None of them know who you really are. And I won’t give you away.’
‘What if they find me?’
‘They won’t!’ She glanced nervously at Horace. He might be in disgrace if they were taken back to Lockfort, but it would be nothing like the trouble she’d be in.
Horace let out a small whimper and clamped his other hand over his mouth.
Echo watched as Crawley sheathed his sword and addressed his men. ‘Gallion, Rothschild, you stay up here and restrain these . . . these people. Mortlake, below decks with me to search the ship.’
He strode to the stairs and disappeared down them with a second soldier. The guard he’d called Gallion held a sword to a struggling Lil’s throat.
‘Gerroff me!’ yelled Flora, as Rothschild grabbed her. But it was no good. She and the others were swiftly tied back to back to the masts.
‘What are we going to do?’ whispered Horace. ‘Father is going to be furious!’
‘I’ll think of something,’ said Echo, frantically trying to come up with a way out. They could never overpower the soldiers or take their ship, not just the two of them. She turned and peered over the side. It was a long way down to the beach where the H
ummerbird was tethered. Echo looked to the stern of the Scarlet Margaret, where the long rope ladder snaked down into the mist.
Could they make it? Echo ignored the fear that swirled in her stomach. They’d have to. But first they would need to rescue the others.
‘Psst.’ She nudged Horace and put Gilbert securely round her neck. ‘I’m going to sneak over and let Lil loose.’
‘How? They’ve got swords, in case you hadn’t noticed.’
Echo swallowed, fear prickling her spine. ‘Well, at least they won’t slice you up.’
‘I don’t want anyone to be sliced!’ Horace put his head in his hands. ‘I’m so sorry, Echo. I should never have come with you. The professor will be in real trouble now. And the sky pirates.’
‘Don’t be stupid, you’re my friend.’
He looked up in surprise. ‘Really?’
‘Really. And friends stick by each other, no matter what. Stay here and keep quiet until I come for you. Okay?’
Horace swallowed and nodded, his face ghost-white.
‘And wait for my signal.’ Echo crawled behind the barrels until she was as near as she dared to Lil and the others. Gallion stood, his back to her, shifting up and down on the toes of his boots. Even in the dim light, Echo could see that his sword was sickeningly sharp. She pushed thoughts of blades out of her mind and glanced over at Lil, tied back to back with Flora against the mast. Echo gritted her teeth. She could do this.
There was a bang and the whole deck rocked. Echo jerked her head up to see that another smaller airship had butted up alongside the Scarlet Margaret. A man leaped on to the deck. As he stepped into the light of the gas lanterns, sword drawn, she recognized the oily black hair of the man who had been in the jeweller’s.
‘I’m looking for this girl!’ he yelled, holding up a tattered wanted poster with Echo’s description. ‘She’s in possession of stolen jewels.’
Echo clamped her lips together to stop herself from crying out.
Gallion unsheathed his sword with a swish and strode towards the man. ‘We’re in charge of this ship, and any jewels upon it belong to us. Who are you?’
‘I am in the service of Queen Valberta of Port Tourbillon,’ snarled the man. ‘I’ve been following this girl for days. The jewels are mine.’
‘That’s no royal ship,’ said Gallion, squinting through the mist.
Echo glanced over at her mother as the two men argued. Perhaps this was the distraction she needed. There was no time to waste. She scuttled over to Lil and Flora.
Lil blinked in surprise. ‘Echo!’ she hissed. ‘What’re you doing?’
‘Rescuing you,’ Echo said. She crouched down and worked at the rough coils of rope with her fingers, scrabbling for purchase on the tight knots. There was a loud sneeze from the barrels where she’d been hiding. She jerked her head up and saw to her horror that the black-haired man had dragged Horace out from his hiding place.
‘You know where she is,’ he snarled, shoving the wanted poster in Horace’s face. ‘I saw you with her outside the library in Port Tourbillon.’
‘Prince Horace, by the king’s seal!’ Gallion pointed his sword at the black-haired man’s throat. ‘Unhand him at once.’
Echo gulped. Oh no, this was not going to plan at all.
‘Prince Horace,’ said Lil, eyes wide. She turned to Echo.
‘You told me his name was Bob.’ She shook one hand free of the loosened rope and grabbed Echo’s wrist. ‘Did you know? You did, didn’t you—’
‘Hey!’ Rothschild raced over to Echo, grabbing her by the arm and yanking her away from Lil. ‘Gallion, are you keeping an eye on these captives? One’s about to escape!’
‘That’s her!’ snarled the black-haired man, letting go of Horace and pushing past an astounded Gallion to grab hold of Echo’s other arm. ‘Where are the jewels?’
‘Get off me!’ Echo shouted, but the black-haired man shoved a hand roughly into her pocket and grabbed the pin.
‘That’s mine!’ she yelled, scrabbling at him. He couldn’t take it now, not after she’d come this far.
‘Where’s the rest of them?’ he snarled.
Crawley emerged from the hatchway, followed by Mortlake. ‘All secure below . . . What is going on up here?’
‘I’ve found him, sir,’ said Gallion, with a look of astonishment on his face.
‘You’ve found . . . Oh!’ Crawley stared at Horace. He suddenly remembered himself and bowed deeply before racing over. ‘Are you hurt, my prince?’
‘No,’ said Horace, flushing. ‘I’m fine. Please let them go. That man’s going to hurt Echo.’
Rothschild pulled Echo away from the black-haired man, took a closer look at her and his eyes widened. ‘By the seal, it is Lady Echo. With an urchin’s haircut!’ He shook his head in disbelief.
‘He’s got my pin!’ shouted Echo. The man was going to get away with it and none of them were going to do anything! She wriggled out of Rothschild’s grip. ‘Stop him!’
The black-haired man looked from her to the three swordwielding men, then dodged past Rothschild and ran for his airship.
‘Stop!’ yelled Echo, but it was no good. With a buzz of engines, the ship pulled away and disappeared into the fog.
‘Are you hurt, my prince?’ said Crawley, turning back to Horace. ‘What have these rogues done to you?’
‘They’re not rogues,’ said Horace. ‘They’re my friends.’
‘Brainwashed.’ Crawley shook his head sadly. He addressed Gallion. ‘Tie them all up, including her,’ he said, pointing at Echo.
As Gallion strode towards her, Echo scrambled to her feet and ran. She couldn’t let them take her back to Lockfort again, she just couldn’t. Who knew how King Alfons would punish her this time? And she wasn’t about to be separated from her mother again. She staggered forward, tripping over coils of rope and abandoned fiddles, dodging past the ship’s wheel and towards the bow of the ship, where she knew the ladder was attached. But Gallion was too fast. She heard the thud of boots behind her, hands grabbed her roughly and she fell hard on to the boards.
‘Get off me!’ she yelled, scratching and scrabbling like a wild cat. Gilbert hissed and turned an angry shade of red, nipping at Gallion’s hands. But it was no good. Gallion knocked Gilbert away on to the deck, then threw Echo over his shoulder as if she was no more than a doll.
‘Gilbert, run!’ Echo beat her fists against Gallion’s back. In return the soldier flung her down in a heap and put his sword to her throat. Gilbert hesitated for a moment before scuttling away into the shadows.
‘I suggest you stop wriggling,’ he said. ‘And keep that . . . that thing away from me or I’ll throw it overboard.’ He turned to Rothschild. ‘I’ll put her below.’
Rothschild nodded. ‘We’ll take the young prince back on to the Star of Lockfort. This way, Your Highness. There’s a most comfortable cabin already prepared for you.’
He marched to where the other airship’s gangplank was resting on the Scarlet Margaret, then turned when he realized Horace wasn’t following. ‘Your Highness?’
‘I won’t go,’ said Horace.
‘You won’t . . . ?’
‘I want to stay here with my friends. You can tell Father I said that.’
‘But Your Highness, with the greatest respect—’
‘I am not going.’ Horace sat down where he was with a thump. ‘You can let us all go or . . . or tie me up with the others.’
Rothschild raised his eyebrows. ‘I cannot do either of those things, Your Highness. I have orders from the king—’
‘I am ordering you to tie me up with them.’ Horace’s lower lip was wobbling. ‘Or I’ll tell Father you disobeyed me.’
Echo stared open-mouthed at Horace, too defeated to struggle as Gallion finished tying her hands behind her back. How had this happened? Everything she’d ever dreamed of had evaporated before her eyes.
Gallion shrugged and stepped forward with another rope. ‘Shall I?’
‘No!
’ Rothschild slapped it out of his hand. ‘This is the crown prince of Lockfort. He’s obviously deeply traumatized and doesn’t know what he’s saying.’
‘I know exactly what I’m saying,’ said Horace, his voice firmer now. ‘Let us all go or tie us all up. We’re together.’
Crawley sighed and threw his hands up. ‘As you wish,’ he snapped. ‘Rothschild, put Prince Horace and Lady Echo in that small cabin on the starboard side, and secure the door. They can’t get up to any mischief in there.’ He glared at Echo. ‘And perhaps they’ll have seen sense by the time we get back to Lockfort.’
CHAPTER THIRTY
‘Do you think Gilbert’s all right?’ asked Echo, her head in her hands. She and Horace had been pushed rather firmly into a cramped little cabin in the Scarlet Margaret, which, along with the Hummerbird and the Star of Lockfort, was being piloted north-westwards across the sky by the guards. The thought of the little lizard alone and frightened and lost was more than she could bear.
‘He’ll be all right,’ said Horace, sitting down beside her on the Jolly Roger print covers of the bunk. ‘He’s clever. He’ll find his way back to you.’ He gave her shoulder a gentle nudge. ‘Remember that time he fell in the moat when we were looking for mud monsters and we thought he was gone for good? He climbed all the way back up to your bedchamber.’
Echo smiled sadly at the memory of a bedraggled and weedcovered Gilbert appearing at her window.
‘In the meantime,’ said Horace, ‘what are we going to do?’
‘I’ll have to think of something,’ Echo replied. ‘But I don’t know what.’
‘If only I hadn’t chased after that butterfly,’ Horace said. ‘I should have stayed on the beach and waited for you, then we wouldn’t be in this horrible mess.’
‘But then you wouldn’t have found that Goliath’s mantrap,’ said Echo.
Horace nodded. ‘And you wouldn’t have found your mother.’
