The King's Key

by Cameron Stelzer

  ‘FIND A DRY SPOT,’ the Captain cried.

  Whisker looked around. There wasn’t a dry spot. The rain blew in from over his shoulder, saturating the entire cliff face. He heard a loud scraping sound and turned to see Horace sliding from a rock, frantically scratching for holds.

  Whisker threw out a paw and grabbed the tip of Horace’s hook, jerking him to a halt. Dangling in midair, Horace kicked his stumpy legs in an attempt to find a foot hold. Whisker felt himself slipping.

  ‘HOLD STILL,’ he shouted, trying to regain his balance.

  Horace stopped squirming but gravity took hold. With the weight of Horace pulling him down, Whisker’s upper body began toppling towards the falls.

  He opened his mouth to scream, but the Captain’s strong arms grabbed his shoulders, dragging him back. Ruby helped Horace onto a stable rock and the soggy party clung on for dear life as the rain grew heavier.

  ‘HEAD FOR THE FALLS,’ Mr Tribble cried.

  ‘WHAT?’ the Captain spluttered.

  ‘UNDER THE OVERHANG,’ Mr Tribble yelled back. ‘IT’S THE SAFEST PLACE.’

  Whisker squinted through the driving rain. Mr Tribble was right. The overhanging rock extended into the waterfall. The water gushed over the rock, but under it was a small cavity. It was wet and slippery, but protected from the pelting rain by the wall of water.

  The Pie Rats shuffled closer. Whisker watched, perplexed, as one by one his companions squeezed into the tight cavity and vanished from sight.

  Silver Thieves

  At first, Whisker had a horrible feeling his companions had been washed into the waterfall. But as he crawled into the cavity, he saw exactly where they had gone. Hidden from sight by the stream of water, was the entrance to an enormous cave.

  Whisker scurried into the gloom, gasping in awe at the wide cavern in front of him. In the flickering light of Eaton’s lantern, the full glory of the subterranean chamber was revealed.

  Stalactites of every shape and size hung from the high ceiling. Some took on the appearance of delicate sewing needles, while others resembled battle-weary broadswords. Groups of stalactites hung together like upside-down beds of nails. Rising from the floor were stalagmites of equal grandeur – hard, wet rock, growing ever upwards as the stalactites dripped mineral-rich water upon them.

  Where the stalagmites and stalactites had joined, great columns extended from the floor to the ceiling. They rose like majestic marble pillars, each decorated with an intricate stone façade. The lantern light sparkled off a thousand rippled surfaces and the Pie Rats stared in amazement.

  Eaton directed his lantern to the far corner of the cave where a dark passage extended into the darkness. Strange round objects covered the floor. Some were encrusted in the hardened rock of stalagmites, others lay in shallow pools. All of them were silver.

  ‘Ratbeard’s reward!’ the Captain exclaimed. ‘We’ve just discovered the silverware of Silver Falls.’

  The Pie Rats rushed over to examine the booty. There were plates and platers, saucers and bowls and a vast collection of ornate serving dishes.

  ‘They’ve been here forever,’ Horace said, trying to dislodge a platter from a stalagmite.

  Whisker pulled a plate from a puddle and shook off the water.

  ‘Solid silver?’ he pondered. ‘What’s it doing here?’

  ‘It looks like a thieves’ lair,’ Mr Tribble said, wiping mud off a bowl. ‘I suspect the marmosets used it to hide the treasure they stole from the citadel.’

  ‘Not recently,’ Horace panted, still struggling with the platter.

  The Captain pointed to the passage. ‘If the cave is a hiding spot between the citadel and the lower jungle, then perhaps there is another entrance, one easier to access from the mountain.’

  ‘There’s no harm in looking,’ Horace said, giving up on the platter. ‘I’m happy to crawl around in the darkness if it saves me climbing that death-trap of a cliff again.’

  ‘What about the treasure?’ Ruby asked. ‘It would be a travesty to leave it all here, especially with the Pirate Cup just around the corner.’

  ‘And there’s certain to be important historical artefacts among the items,’ Mr Tribble added.

  The Captain thought for a moment.

  ‘It’s not every day we stumble into a silver treasure-trove,’ he admitted. ‘And considering we’re flat broke, I see no harm in taking a few unclaimed trinkets with us.’

  Hurriedly, the Pie Rats stuffed their backpacks full with silverware. Plates and saucers proved the easiest things to pack. Horace found a pile of knives and forks under a serving bowl and managed to squeeze in an entire dinner set.

  ‘Pies always taste better with silver service …’ he mused, proceeding into the passage.

  While the others filed after Horace, Whisker lingered in the cave, staring longingly at four silver side plates he’d scrounged from a puddle. Their dull, tarnished surfaces reminded him of the humble tin plates he’d eaten off as a child. He ran his finger over an engraved edge. Happy memories of dinnertime conversations filled his mind.

  ‘Four plates,’ he said to himself, finally stowing the items. ‘One for each member of my family.’ With a yearning sigh, he fastened his bag and crept into the darkness.

  The tunnel moved steadily upwards, opening out into a small cave before resuming its twisting path towards the surface. The roof of the passage lowered and the Pie Rats found themselves crawling on their paws and knees through puddles of mud. Their bulging backpacks scraped on low rocks, forcing them onto their stomachs.

  ‘What is it with this island and mud?’ Ruby complained, sliding out of a sloppy brown bog.

  ‘Well …’ Horace began.

  ‘Light ahead!’ Eaton exclaimed.

  Sure enough, a speck of light glowed ahead of them. As they slithered forward, it grew larger and brighter.

  The Pie Rats’ eyes stung as they tumbled into the misty sunlight. The dull murmur of the waterfall echoed from far below. They were high up on the mountainside, on the opposite side of the river. Mountain plants lay all around them and the entrance to the passage was no more than a fern-covered crack between two large rocks. Whisker wondered if they could even find it again.

  ‘The rain has finally cleared,’ Horace yawned, stretching his mud-covered arms above his head.

  ‘For now,’ Mr Tribble said cautiously. ‘But we won’t know if it’s coming or going with all this mist around.’

  ‘Is there a direction we can take?’ the Captain asked. ‘I can’t see my paws in front of my face.’

  Mr Tribble took out a compass.

  ‘The main track to the citadel cuts inland to avoid the falls,’ he said. ‘It should be due west of here.’

  ‘West it is,’ the Captain said decisively. ‘Scissor swords at the ready. We’re going cross-country.’

  The Pie Rats hacked and slashed their way through the dense jungle undergrowth. Ruby led the way with Smudge flying blindly above her.

  ‘Stupid mud,’ she grunted, flicking ferns out of the way. ‘Stupid mist.’

  ‘Stupid tour guide,’ Horace muttered, copping a fern in the face.

  They reached a spot where the mist wasn’t so thick. Eaton suddenly stopped in his tracks and sniffed the air.

  ‘What is it?’ the Captain whispered, staring into the wispy haze.

  ‘E-e-eyes,’ Eaton gasped. ‘D-d-dozens of eyes …W-w-watching us.’

  The Pie Rats froze.

  ‘Stay together,’ the Captain hissed, raising his sword. ‘Strike first, think later, understood?’

  The crew understood and huddled together in the mist, swords ready, awaiting the ambush. Nothing stirred. Whisker began to wonder what was out there. Marmosets? Two-toed sloths? Or something worse? Did they have weapons … or poison darts?

  ‘Look,’ Horace whispered.

  The mist slowly parted and the trees grew clearer. Staring down at them were huge black eyeballs.

  ‘D-d-drop bears,’ Horace choked. ‘We’re d-
d-done for!’

  Whisker felt his tail coil around his leg. Fearlessly, Ruby took a step towards the trees.

  ‘No, Ruby,’ the Captain pleaded.

  Ruby stopped as the mist closed in. She turned to face Horace and gave him a horrified look. Horace’s eyes widened.

  ‘You s-s-saw them, too?’ he trembled.

  Ruby moved closer and slowly opened her mouth.

  ‘BOO!’ she cried.

  Horace jumped a full tail’s length into the air. Eaton jumped a tail and a half. Ruby dropped both swords on the ground and roared with laughter. ‘Oh, Horace! Oh, Eaton! If only you could see yourselves. It’s the funniest thing I’ve…’

  ‘RUBY,’ the Captain thundered. ‘What the Tasmanian devil is wrong with you?’

  Ruby kept laughing. ‘… nothing’s wrong with me, Uncle …’

  ‘What about those – those creatures,’ the Captain gasped.

  ‘Creatures!’ Ruby howled in hysterics. ‘Gigantic, huge, enormous creatures –’ She paused to catch her breath.

  Eaton huddled under Mr Tribble, utterly terrified. Horace hid behind his hook and Smudge crawled under a leaf. Whisker, however, stood his ground and shook his head at Ruby.

  ‘Oh, come on, Whisker,’ she cried. ‘It’s hilarious!’

  ‘What’s she gabbling on about, Whisker?’ the Captain asked in confusion.

  Ruby gave Whisker a look that said, ‘Don’t tell.’

  Whisker knew exactly what Ruby was talking about and thought it was best if he put the others out of their misery.

  ‘We’re perfectly safe, Captain,’ he said slowly.

  The Pie Rats cautiously raised their heads to see the mist rolling back and the trees coming into view. There were no drop bears, two-toed sloths or murderous monkeys in sight – but there was something watching them. Bunches of bright red fruit hung from the trees. Some of the fruit was open, revealing large black seeds with white coverings. They looked exactly like eyeballs.

  ‘Pete’s missing herb,’ the Captain groaned. ‘I should have known.’

  ‘But what happened to the drop bears?’ Horace squeaked.

  ‘Drop bears don’t exist,’ Ruby laughed, ‘but gullible rats do.’

  ‘I think we’ve had enough of your little joke, Ruby,’ the Captain said sternly. ‘And seeing as you and Whisker are both eyeball experts, you can collect half a bag of shelled seeds for Pete.’

  Ruby stopped laughing. ‘I’d love to help, Uncle, but the backpacks are filled to the brim with silverware. We couldn’t possibly fit a single seed in.’

  The Captain removed his backpack and placed it on the ground.

  ‘My backpack has plenty of room for seeds,’ he said.

  ‘No, it hasn’t,’ Ruby insisted.

  The Captain opened his bag and removed a large apricot pie.

  ‘Now it has,’ he said with a wide grin. ‘I’m starving.’

  While the Captain and his fellow prank victims sat down for an early lunch, Ruby and Whisker disappeared into the mist to collect eyeballs.

  ‘Say hello to the drop bears for me,’ Horace cried out. ‘I’ll save a piece of pie for you – Whisker.’

  ‘Stupid drop-bears,’ Ruby muttered, slicing the tops off small plants. ‘Stupid eyeballs.’

  ‘Leave the bad jokes to Horace, next time,’ Whisker advised. ‘Your advice, not mine.’

  Ruby turned around and glared at him.

  ‘Horace is the bad joke,’ she huffed.

  Whisker decided to drop the subject and scrambled up the nearest eyeball tree. He knew the sooner he collected the seeds, the sooner he’d get his slice of pie.

  Collecting seeds was easier said than done. Once Whisker reached the top of a tree, he had to search every branch for ripe fruit (of which there were very few), and throw them down to Ruby for shelling. The Captain’s backpack filled at a remarkably slow pace.

  ‘How are we looking?’ Whisker asked, climbing down the eleventh tree.

  Ruby gave him a sour look. ‘Half empty. We need a decent tree of eyeballs to fill up the bag.’

  ‘I may have spotted one from the air,’ Whisker said, wishfully. ‘It’s on the eastern side of a gully not far from here.’

  ‘Lead the way,’ Ruby said, hoisting the bag over her shoulder.

  The two rats trekked in the direction of the gully and the ground steadily dropped away. The gully plants grew thick and lush and it was hard for the rats to see where they were headed.

  ‘Down here,’ Whisker said, descending the slope. He pointed through the leaves to a huge bunch of ripe fruit. ‘There it is.’

  Ruby dropped the bag and took off her swords.

  ‘I’ll lend you a paw,’ she said eagerly. ‘There are plenty of eyeballs for both of us.’

  Whisker removed his sword and scaled a nearby vine. Its leaves were long and springy and anything but stable. He cautiously checked his footholds before proceeding upwards. Ruby, eager to reach the fruit, leapt from leaf to leaf like they were small trampolines.

  Whisker reached the highest leaf of the vine. Balancing on one foot, he stretched out for the trunk of the tree. Before he could grab it, Ruby bounced onto the leaf. The leaf dipped under their weight and Whisker tumbled backwards into Ruby. The two rats slid over the side of the leaf, crashed through the foliage and plunged headfirst into a pool of sticky liquid.

  Rat-eating Plants

  Gasping for air, Whisker burst from the surface of the pool and pulled Ruby’s head out.

  ‘Eeeyeew,’ she coughed, spitting out a mouthful of the strange liquid. ‘W-what is this stuff?’

  Whisker tried to steady himself. His toes barely reached the bottom of the pool. The ground beneath him felt soft and rubbery.

  He looked around, puzzled. The pool had high purple walls extending to a round opening above. A large leaf-like shape hung over the pool, concealing it from the air.

  ‘It’s not water, whatever is it,’ Whisker said, swishing his tail through the substance.

  ‘I think it’s some kind of acid,’ Ruby guessed, trying to scale the slippery wall.

  With no pawholds, she lost her grip and splashed back into the pool. The liquid shook, the walls vibrated.

  ‘It’s moving!’ she gasped.

  ‘Only if we move,’ Whisker said, beginning to understand. ‘Ruby, I think this is the rat-eating plant they warned us about.’

  ‘Eeeyeeew,’ Ruby cried again. ‘We must be in its stomach, which means all of this liquid is …’

  ‘Digestive juices,’ Whisker said grimly. ‘Slowly dissolving our bodies.’

  ‘We’ve got to get out,’ Ruby gasped. ‘Quick, give me your sword.’

  ‘I-I don’t have it,’ Whisker confessed. ‘I left it next to the bag.’

  ‘Why would you do a thing like that?’ Ruby snapped. ‘Don’t you know it’s dangerous out here?’

  Whisker was taken aback. ‘Hey, you can’t talk. You removed your swords first.’

  ‘That’s different,’ Ruby huffed. ‘Besides, you should know better than to follow my lead. You’re supposed to be the sensible one in the relationship.’

  ‘Relationship?’ Whisker gasped. ‘I didn’t know …’

  ‘JUST COME UP WITH A PLAN TO GET US OUT OF HERE!’ Ruby bellowed.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ Whisker mumbled. ‘You don’t need to shout. Just climb on my shoulders and see if you can reach the top.’

  Ruby frowned. ‘That’s it? Your brilliant escape plan?’

  ‘Yes,’ Whisker said bluntly. ‘Not all great plans involve fancy props and explosions … but if you’d prefer something more exciting we can wait until our bodies dissolve and escape through the veins of the plant …’

  ‘Give me a paw up, will you,’ Ruby snapped.

  Whisker helped Ruby onto his shoulders. The skin on his paws and feet stung in the acidic liquid. He hoped he had time to escape in one solid piece.

  ‘I can’t quite reach the top,’ Ruby said in frustration.

  ‘Try leaping off m
y shoulders,’ Whisker suggested. ‘I’ll crouch down and give you a boost.’

  ‘If you insist,’ Ruby said, unconvinced. ‘Squeeze my foot when you’re ready.’

  Whisker took a deep breath, closed his eyes and submerged under the liquid. He waited for the ripples to settle and, with a quick squeeze of Ruby’s foot, launched himself upwards. As his head pierced the surface he felt Ruby leap from his shoulders.

  He half expected her body to crash down on top of him, but when he looked up he saw Ruby hauling herself over the rim of the plant.

  ‘Have fun dissolving,’ she laughed, disappearing from sight.

  Whisker stood in the middle of the pool, slowly dissolving. There was a noise from above and a strand of vine splashed into the liquid.

  ‘Climb!’ called a voice.

  Whisker climbed like he’d never climbed before. In moments, he’d scrambled over the rim of the purple prison, scooted down the vine and was throwing himself into the nearest rainwater puddle.

  Ruby splashed down next to him.

  ‘Digestive juices are wonderful for removing mud,’ she remarked, rinsing herself off.

  ‘And skin,’ Whisker added, staring at his red feet.

  Ruby shrugged. ‘Oh well. What doesn’t kill you makes you cleaner.’

  ‘I thought we banned the Horace jokes?’ Whisker groaned. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got eyeballs to collect – alone.’

  Two extremely clean and rather hungry rats arrived back at the picnic site.

  ‘No drop bears then?’ Horace said from his spot in the sun. ‘We saved you some pie but it was hard to keep the fly away.’

  Smudge shook his tiny arms at Horace as if to say, your piece of pie was seventeen times the size of mine.

  ‘You were gone a while,’ the Captain said, eying them suspiciously. ‘You weren’t planning another practical joke, were you?’

  ‘We had stomach troubles,’ Ruby blurted out. ‘Nasty stomach troubles.’

  ‘That’s terrible,’ Horace cried, leaping to his feet. ‘I guess you’ll pass on the pie then?’

  Ruby moved her paw to the handle of her sword.

  ‘O-on the other hand,’ Horace gabbled, ‘pie is very good for stomach troubles …’