‘And what’s over there?’ Horace asked.
‘Pine trees, fir trees and a whole line of mountains,’ Ruby said, with a dismissive shrug. ‘Not exactly a drawcard for any gold-hungry pirates.’
Horace kept his eyes locked on the prints.
‘All the same, these are pretty big prints,’ he gulped.
Ruby pulled the sole surviving spyglass from her belt and thrust it into Horace’s arms.
‘Here,’ she said, ‘You can keep watch from the air, and if there’s a pack of wild dogs roaming the countryside, you can wave down to them as we pass.’
Horace’s surveillance didn’t last long. By the time Chatterbeak had reached the foot of the first small mountain to the east of the river, the exhausted rat was yawning loudly. And before they had entered the snow-covered valley beyond, Horace was snoring softly in the parrot’s claws.
From his position on Chatterbeak’s back, Whisker peered down to make sure his friend was alright. With the spyglass tucked into his belt and a line of dribble running out of his mouth, Horace looked more at ease than he had been all day.
Whisker envied that kind of peace. Lost in his own dark thoughts, he had barely spoken a word since leaving the river. He longed to find something to drag him out of his melancholy mood, but sitting on a bird in the middle of nowhere, only made him feel worse.
As he relived the morning’s events for the umpteenth time, Ruby’s head appeared in his peripheral vision.
She was sitting close behind him, leaning forward as if she wanted to talk.
‘I’m proud of you, Whisker,’ she said, placing a paw on his shoulder.
‘For what?’ he said, sorrowfully. ‘Abandoning my sister?’
Ruby shook her head. ‘You didn’t abandon her; you gave her a chance.’
‘Maybe,’ Whisker conceded.
‘Definitely,’ Ruby said firmly.
‘Then why do I feel so terrible?’ Whisker asked, turning to face her.
Ruby studied him carefully. ‘You’re Anna’s brother – her only brother. With your parents gone, I guess you feel it’s your duty to protect her.’
‘Okay,’ Whisker said, realising she was probably right, ‘but how can I protect her from the opposite side of the sea?’
Ruby shrugged. ‘You keep her safe by letting her go.’
Whisker opened his mouth to comment but Ruby was already continuing, ‘I don’t need to remind you of the trouble we’re in right now. You’ve said it yourself, the further we are from Anna, the safer she’ll be.’
Whisker sighed deeply, struggling to accept the truth. ‘Yeah. Yeah I know …’
‘Listen,’ Ruby said, ‘you might feel rotten about your decision now, but when you’re facing an army of pirates, you’ll know you made the right call.’
‘So you honestly believe she’ll be alright?’ Whisker asked.
Ruby nodded. ‘With a shrewd old rat like Grandpa Rat Bait as her guardian, I’m sure Anna will be fine.’
Whisker sighed again. ‘Grandpa Rat Bait – the scoundrel-turned-saviour … who would have thought?’ As his mind ran over the whirlwind encounter with his prodigal grandfather, he felt a sudden pang of guilt. The harsh words he had shouted still echoed in his head and he suddenly wished he had handled things differently.
‘Ruby,’ he said in a hollow voice, ‘was I wrong to yell at him? I mean, he risked his life to rescue us and look at the thanks he received …’
‘Hold on there,’ Ruby said, raising a paw to stop him. ‘I’m probably not the best rat to be answering that question. You know what I’m like when it comes to yelling.’ She looked away guiltily. ‘And I may have considered slicing off Rat Bait’s tail when he broke the news.’
‘Considering is not the same as doing,’ Whisker said in her defence. ‘You kept it together and Rat Bait still has his tail. My words simply cut him to shreds.’
‘Listen, Whisker,’ Ruby said firmly, ‘losing your cool and yelling at your grandfather doesn’t make you a criminal. You were angry. Your reaction was understandable.’
‘But that still doesn’t make it right,’ Whisker said.
‘And I’m not disputing that,’ Ruby said. ‘I’m simply trying to find you a reason. That’s what you want, isn’t it? A reason why the squeaky-clean Wentworth Winterbottom would do anything to tarnish his perfect reputation.’
‘I’d hardly say my reputation is perfect,’ Whisker shot back. ‘Just look at Aladrya’s most wanted list. I’m the number one bad guy.’
Ruby rolled her eye. ‘You know what I mean, Whisker. In the eyes of Rat Bait, you’re about as close as it comes to being a saint.’
‘That’s ridiculous,’ Whisker said, shaking his head. ‘You’re twisting my words. You’re trying to make this all about me.’
‘It is about you,’ Ruby hissed. ‘Don’t you see?’
Whisker was speechless.
‘I know you’re hurting,’ she said, calming her voice. ‘I can see it in your eyes. You’re torn up about what happened in the past. You’re angry about what’s happening now – your parents; your sister; Horace’s family on Freeforia – and you want it all to stop.’
‘I can’t make it stop!’ Whisker cried. ‘I can’t make it disappear.’ He swept his arm across the sky. ‘It’s not just what’s out there that’s killing me. It’s what’s in my head. There’s no escaping it. When I close my eyes it’s there – all the doubts, all the haunting dark thoughts, all the fears that I’m going to fail. Sure, there are glimmers of hope, but they are nothing more than sparks in the darkness. And then it returns – the empty despair of the Cyclone Sea, the feeling that I’m drowning all over again. Do you know how that feels?’
‘No,’ Ruby said softly, ‘No I don’t. But I know pain. And I know that pain is sometimes easier to accept when you find someone to blame.’
‘Someone to blame,’ Whisker repeated, trying to grasp what she was saying. ‘Do you honestly think I’d blame Rat Bait for this?’
‘No,’ Ruby answered. ‘I think you blame yourself.’
‘What –?’ Whisker began.
‘I’ve seen what you do,’ Ruby said. ‘You punish yourself for every little failure. You take responsibility for every defeat, even if the situation is out of your control. You seek out pain so you can handle the pain – the real pain. Think about it, Whisker. If you become the bad guy for yelling at Rat Bait, it’s easier to convince yourself that Anna is better off without you. And that’s your way of letting her go.’
Whisker shook his head, but there was no point arguing. Ruby was right. She could see straight through him, even if all he could see was a mass of swirling black clouds.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, realising how self-centred he sounded. ‘I’m supposed to be the level-headed leader, not the emotional apprentice.’
‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘A leader without emotions is a piece of drift wood. Take Pete for example. He’s about as wooden as they come.’
Whisker gave her a half-smile. ‘And that’s before we consider his pencil leg.’
‘Alright,’ Ruby said with a mandatory roll of her eye. ‘You know what I mean. Listen, you don’t have to bear this burden alone. Not anymore. Let me in. Tell me what you’re feeling and I’ll-I’ll –’ She tapped her finger against her lips, searching for the right words. ‘Hmm … bear with me here, I’m not much of a wordsmith … how about, I’ll be the kindling to your spark of hope and together we’ll blaze like a bonfire?’ She paused, shook her head, and then added, ‘That sounded a bit corny, didn’t it?’
‘Oh, no, of course not,’ Whisker said, seeing the effort she was making. ‘It was pure poetry.’
Ruby frowned. ‘Seriously?’
‘Okay,’ Whisker admitted. ‘It was a tad corny – corny but cute.’
‘My offer still stands,’ Ruby said. ‘If you need someone to talk to, I’m right here.’ She waved her arms through the thin air. ‘And as you can see, I have nowhere to go.’
Whisker chewed his lip
. This had been his burden for so long, he’d almost grown accustomed to the darkness. Was he ready to open up? Was he ready to let in the light? As he thought about what Ruby had said, he pictured himself standing in the centre of a roaring fire, the dancing tongues of flames driving away the darkness. He could almost feel the heat of the flames warming his skin from the biting cold of the mountain air.
He smiled. It was a broad smile, stretching from ear to ear and lighting up his eyes.
‘I could do with some fire,’ he said finally.
Ruby’s green eye sparkled back at him like an emerald, full of life and hope.
‘We’re going to get through this,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ he said, starting to believe. ‘Together.’
He turned his head to the west, staring beyond the snow-covered mountains, imagining the former Pie Rat captain and the cheeky circus rat flying towards the port, their gold-medal swan honking happily beneath them.
They have each other, he thought, finally letting go. And so do we.
Part 2
The Fair Land of Freeforia
Eastward Bound
Illuminated by the last rays of the setting sun, Chatterbeak flew high above the crashing waves and jagged rocks lining the east coast of Aladrya. Behind him, a line of distant mountains rose into the amber sky, sombre and silent.
The parrot’s destination was a small ship, anchored a short distance off the coast. She was a two-mastered brig – a pirate ship of modest proportions, though, from the air, she could have been mistaken for an enormous floating pie, complete with silver cutlery masts and giant-sized clothing sails. Patched-up and in need of a paint job, she lacked the grandeur of the legendary Princess Pie, the most famous Pie Rat ship ever to sail, but she held a special place in the hearts of her crew.
‘There she is,’ Horace said excitedly, peering through the spyglass. ‘I can see the old girl dead ahead.’
‘It’s good to be home,’ Ruby said, taking a deep breath of the warm sea air. ‘The mountains have their own special grandeur, but there’s nothing quite like the smell of salt and the roar of cannons when you’re standing on the deck of the Apple Pie.’
‘Don’t forget the food,’ Horace chimed in. ‘I haven’t had a decent meal in days and Fred’s pies are to die for.’
‘Typical Horace,’ Ruby muttered in Whisker’s ear, ‘always thinking with his stomach.’
Whisker inclined his head in acknowledgement, but made no reply. The prospect of a hot pie seemed to have bolstered Horace’s spirits and Whisker was simply glad to see his friend in a chirpy state again.
As the Apple Pie grew closer, Whisker noticed a small boat bobbing behind the ship.
‘The Golden Anchor,’ he marvelled, spotting the carved anchor figurehead at the bow of the small vessel. He had left the boat at the fishing jetty of the Fish ‘n Ships Inn, not expecting to see it again, but was relieved to see the Pie Rats must have collected it during their retreat down the Hawk River. It seemed fitting that the aptly-named craft, built by his father and then restored by Rat Bait, had taken the place of his small pendant as the last physical reminder of his family.
Touching his empty neck, he wondered where Anna and Rat Bait were now. Flying into Port Abalilly, he imagined. Charming the soldier crabs. Searching for Anso’s six hundred stairs …
As Chatterbeak began spiralling downwards towards the wooden deck of the Apple Pie, Whisker took a final look to the west. The sun had disappeared behind the distant mountains and the entire landmass of Aladrya was now a single black silhouette framed by orange-rimmed clouds. Waves pounded the rocks in the foreground, blasting foamy bursts of sea spray high into the air.
It was among these rocks that Whisker glimpsed a strange dark shape. Barely visible in the dim light, it appeared to be a vessel of some description, moving slowly through the waves. At first he wondered if his eyes were playing tricks on him or if his imagination was forming shapes out of the outlines of the rocks.
There hadn’t been a ship there a moment ago, he thought.
And then, through a lull in the crashing waves, he realised what he was looking at. From the tops of its three slender masts to the bottom of its hull, the entire ship was black – black sails, black rigging, black everything.
Whisker’s heart almost skipped a beat. It was the same ghostly ship he had seen during the Pirate Cup. Appearing only at sunset and sunrise, it had materialised out of nowhere on three separate occasions and then vanished into the shadows as quickly as it has appeared.
‘The Black Shadow,’ he gasped, reaching behind him to grab Ruby’s arm. ‘Do you see it?’
Ruby, who had been waving to the small welcome party of Fred and Smudge on the deck, stopped abruptly and began scanning the indigo ocean beneath her.
‘Where?’ she asked, swivelling her head from side to side as Chatterbeak began his final revolution. ‘I can’t see anything.’
‘In the rocks off the coastline,’ Whisker said, pointing wildly towards Aladrya. He tried to pinpoint the exact location but with all the spinning and turning he’d lost sight of the vessel.
‘Are you sure it was a real ship?’ Ruby asked. ‘Any one of those rocks could be mistaken for a vessel, especially in this light.’
‘I think it was a ship …’ Whisker began hesitantly. He let out a groan of frustration. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it was a rock, or maybe I was just imagining things.’
‘We’ll ask Fred about it,’ Ruby said sympathetically, as Chatterbeak dropped Horace on the deck and then touched down beside him. ‘If there’s a ghost ship stalking the Apple Pie, Fred’s sure to have spotted something with that massive eye of his.’
As it turned out, Fish Eye Fred hadn’t spotted anything, and neither had Smudge, but all thoughts of the Black Shadow were quickly forgotten when Whisker and Ruby were wrenched out of their seats by the gentle giant and smothered in a massive bear hug.
‘It’s good to see you, too, Fred,’ Whisker wheezed, his face pressed into the chef’s grubby apron.
‘Though some air would be nice,’ Ruby choked.
Fred relaxed his grip and lowered the two young rats next to Horace, who was still recovering from his own crushing bear hug.
As Fred pulled away, Whisker noticed the slogan printed on the front of his white apron.
KEEP CALM AND EAT PIES.
How very Fred, Whisker thought.
‘Are you hungry?’ the chef asked in a calm voice. ‘Dinner is almost ready.’
‘Dinner might have to wait,’ Whisker sighed, taking a step towards the stairwell. ‘We need to set sail at once.’ His nose caught the delicious aroma of freshly baked pastry drifting up from the galley and he stopped in his tracks. ‘Then again … maybe we could eat on the run. What’s on the menu?’
Fred’s enormous face lit up with pride. ‘You’re in luck. Tonight, we’re having sugar-glazed strawberry pies as an entrée, followed by a main course of roast capsicum and grilled eggplant pies with sea-salt seasoning. And for dessert, err …’ He paused and scratched his cauliflower-shaped chef’s hat. ‘Bother. With this many dishes I can never remember what we’re having for dessert.’ He tugged on his safety pin earring in an attempt to jog his memory, but nothing came to him.
Smudge flew up beside him, buzzing his wings excitedly and making small sprinkling motions with his six fly legs.
‘Ah, yes,’ Fred said in his slow, booming voice. ‘Now I remember. For dessert, I have baked choc-cherry pies with itsy-bitsy dark chocolate buttons sprinkled all over the top.’
‘Mmm, delicious,’ Horace drooled. ‘I must have died and gone to pie heaven. Four days on the mountain and the chef goes all three-course-fancy-pants on us.’
‘Captain’s orders,’ Fred whispered, ‘It’s for all our distinguished guests.’
He swivelled his enormous eye in the direction of the navigation room. Madam Pearl, the elegant white weasel, was stepping through the doorway wearing her ivory-coloured coat. Her neck was bare and, for
a moment, Whisker wondered what had happened to her trademark pearl necklace.
‘Greetings, young rats,’ she said in a silky tone. ‘I trust your mission was a success.’
‘Yes, Madam Pearl,’ Whisker said in his most dignified voice. He remembered something and quickly added, ‘And thanks again for those pearls. We couldn’t have rescued Anna without them.’
‘My pleasure, Whisker,’ she replied with a small bow. ‘I’m overjoyed to hear your mission was a success. And as for my pearls, well, it was time for a change, anyway. Emmie has been making me a new cockle shell necklace to complement my attire.’ She poked her head inside the room. ‘Oh, children! Our triumphant mountaineers have returned, if you’d care to join us?’ With a squeal of excitement, two small mice darted through the doorway, almost knocking Madam Pearl off her feet.
‘Cousin Whisker!’ Emmie squeaked, throwing her arms around Whisker’s waist. ‘You’re back at last. And you rescued your sister – how wonderful!’
Her twin brother, Eaton, in his usual reserved manner, gave Horace a formal hookshake with his paw.
‘I hope you’re not overwhelming the poor rats,’ quivered Mr Tribble, stumbling after them with his glasses sitting crookedly across his nose. ‘I’m sure they’ve been through quite an ordeal.’
Emmie ignored his advice and rushed over to Ruby.
‘Ooooh, Ruby!’ she squealed. ‘We thought the Highland Hounds had eaten you.’
‘Not me,’ Ruby said dryly. ‘But they’ve certainly made my life a pain in the ankle.’
‘You should see Uncle Pete about that,’ Emmie said, peering down at Ruby’s foot. ‘He’s made a new batch of Pie Rat healing medicine.’
‘All in good time,’ the Captain said, striding up the stairs.
He saluted the three rats when he reached the deck and Whisker and Horace saluted back. Ruby, never one for ceremony, hobbled over and threw her arms around his neck.
The Golden Anchor Page 9