Smudge joined the conversation with an aerobatic circle around Pete’s head.
‘Buzz off!’ Pete hissed. ‘Can’t you see I’m busy being miserable.’
Smudge pointed four arms frantically at the book as if to say the misery can wait.
All eyes turned to the open book. A ray of warm sunlight crept across one of its pages. Where the light hit, numbers and letters began to form.
The Pie Rats gasped in amazement as the sunlight brought the empty page to life.
The book wasn’t blank after all.
The Book of Knowledge
In amazement, Horace stepped closer to the open book.
‘Stay back! Don’t touch it!’ Pete barked. ‘We don’t know what it is.’
‘Sun-reactive ink,’ Mr Tribble gasped. ‘Knowledge shines bright in the pages concealed … it’s a stroke of genius.’
‘And it’s perfectly harmless,’ Madam Pearl added. ‘I had a few letters written in a similar ink pass through my antiques shop a few years back. They were written by an explorer. He never signed his name.’
Using the tip of his hook, Horace slid the book across the floor until it was fully bathed in sunlight. Two entire pages filled with text.
Whisker’s heart leapt as he stared at the words.
‘Medicine for my misery,’ Pete exclaimed.
‘What is it?’ Fred asked. ‘Not all of us can read, you know.’
Pete screwed up his nose. ‘This, you big buffoon, is the original recipe for my famous Pie Rat healing medicine.’
Mr Tribble adjusted his glasses. ‘According to these quantities, you’ve been using too many of the eyeball-looking herbs, Pete.’
‘Creative license,’ Pete muttered. ‘Just like the three sets of waves on your map.’
‘Hey,’ Fred said excitedly. ‘Do you think there are any pie recipes in there?’
‘There’s only one way to find out,’ Horace said, flicking to another page.
The sun bathed the surface of the paper and the outline of a map slowly appeared, followed by an ocean dotted with islands.
‘The Cyclone Sea,’ the Captain marvelled. ‘And it’s filled with uncharted islands we never knew existed.’ He pointed to the map. ‘Here is the Island of Destiny, and look, to the west, there are three islands, close to where we found Whisker.’
‘You don’t think my family could be …?’ Whisker gasped.
‘There’s a good chance,’ Horace said. ‘We can sail past the islands on the way home.’
Whisker couldn’t believe what he was hearing, what he was seeing. The book had brought him a new hope. If his family were out there, he had the perfect tool to find them.
As the pages were turned, wondrous things flashed before his eyes: locations of unseen reefs; designs of fantastic inventions; references to lost treasure and sunken ships; charts showing wind directions and ocean currents; pages of chemical formulae; scientific principles; historical sea battles won and lost; ambush and defence strategies; and there were maps – dozens and dozens of maps.
‘Now that I think of it, the riddle on the cover makes perfect sense,’ the Captain said. ‘This book won’t change our past, nor will it tell us our future, but it will influence our destiny. The knowledge contained here could make us the most powerful crew on the seven seas.’
‘If we all learnt to read,’ Pete scoffed.
‘Whoever wrote these words clearly had an infatuation with light,’ Mr Tribble said. ‘We first saw it with the map, then the key and now the book.’
‘Turn to the front page,’ Pete said, pushing in front of Horace. It might tell us who the author is.’
Pete used his bony fingers to flick the pages to the beginning. The title page drifted into view:
‘Flaming flamingos!’ Horace exclaimed. ‘It’s Whisker’s great-grandfather, Anso.’
Dumbfounded, Whisker took a second look at the title page. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, and yet all of a sudden it made perfect sense. He’d been following the trail of his great-grandfather the whole time. Anso’s advice, passed down through his father, had helped him solve riddles, defeat guardians and had saved him time and time again.
It took Whisker a few moments for it all to sink in. The book gave him more than just advice; it gave him his great-grandfather’s secrets, his discoveries and his wisdom.
‘Great-grandfather Anso,’ he murmured. ‘Who would have thought?’
‘It does seem a remarkable coincidence that our young apprentice was the one to find Anso’s book,’ the Captain mused. ‘But on saying that, it’s a small world when you’ve sailed to every corner of it.’ He shrugged.
Whisker knew the Captain was right. There was no denying the strange coincidences they had experienced on their adventure, but one thing still puzzled him: why?
‘Hermit,’ he asked, ‘where did you find the Forgotten Map?’
The Hermit twitched his ears as if awakening a memory.
‘Long ago,’ he began, ‘Hermit visited Captain’s Inn on Sea Shanty Island. Old rat came in at midnight, miserable as mud. Hermit offered him friendly drink, yes, yes. Old rat spoke of powerful map in his possession – afraid it would fall into wicked paws.’
The Hermit lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘Old rat asked Hermit to keep map secret and safe. Hermit hid map on Princess Pie and never saw old rat again, no, no. Map was forgotten. Years later, Hermit discovered map in drawer and went in search of treasure …’
‘So the old rat was Whisker’s great-grandfather,’ Horace surmised.
‘And the story explains why the map was known as the Forgotten Map,’ Mr Tribble added.
The Hermit nodded.
‘I think it would be best if we continued in this secretive tradition,’ the Captain said thoughtfully. ‘Who knows what evil creatures will come after the book if they learn of its existence? I suggest we don’t speak of the origins of this book again.’
‘Aye, Captain,’ murmured the crew.
‘Very well,’ the Captain said. ‘It would also be wise if we locked the chest to give the impression that the treasure is still here, should the Cat Fish come looking for it.’
‘And we could put something in the chest,’ Horace chimed in. ‘Something small. Just in case they get the lid open.’
‘You’re something small,’ Pete said dryly.
While the crew bickered about who or what would best fit in the chest, Whisker walked to a dark corner of the cavern and gently placed the glow worm on a rock.
‘Thanks for your help,’ he said fondly. ‘You really brightened things up.’
The glow worm glowed contentedly and wiggled off to explore his new home.
Whisker turned to see Ruby standing silently behind him. She hadn’t said anything since they discovered the book, but it was clear she had something on her mind.
‘Are you alright?’ she asked.
‘Yeah,’ Whisker said, ‘I’m great.’
‘He’s not,’ Ruby said.
‘Who? The glow worm?’
‘No,’ Ruby said, pointing to the small mouse crouching beside the chest. ‘Eaton. He’ll cop it big time when all the excitement dies down. No one likes a traitor.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Why do you think he did it?’
Whisker shrugged. ‘He’ll have a reason. We all have our reasons.’
‘Why don’t you talk to him?’ Ruby said.
‘Me?’ Whisker said, a little surprised. ‘Why me?’
‘Because you know how he feels,’ Ruby replied. ‘Four weeks ago when we dragged you from the ocean, you were the terrified little boy.’
Whisker knew she was right. Part of him still felt like that. He wandered over and sat down next to Eaton. Eaton didn’t look up.
‘You like books, don’t you, Eaton?’ Whisker asked casually.
‘Traitor books, you mean,’ Eaton sniffed.
‘Okay,’ Whisker said, playing along. ‘Why don’t you tell me a good traitor story?’
Eaton looked at him suspi
ciously. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, firstly,’ Whisker said, ‘did the traitor believe he was doing good or evil?’
‘Good, I guess,’ Eaton muttered.
‘And what did the villains offer the traitor? Was it gold or jewels, or perhaps something more valuable?’
Eaton stared at the ground. ‘They asked him if he had a family. He said he only had a sister. They said he’d never see her again if he didn’t do everything they asked …’
Whisker could see the absolute terror in Eaton’s eyes, but continued his questions.
‘And what happened when the traitor was discovered?’
Eaton struggled for an answer. ‘The-the traitor got what he deserved and was locked up or fed to a giant eel or something …’
Whisker sighed. ‘I haven’t read that story, Eaton. I only know the one about the brave little mouse who did all he could to save his sister … that story has a very different ending.’
Tears welled in Eaton’s eyes.
‘W-what kind of ending?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Whisker said softly. ‘It’s still being written. But I’m sure it’s a good one. It’s set on an island of second chances.’
Eaton wiped his eyes with the back of his paw.
‘It’s going to be a happy ending,’ he said, looking directly at Whisker, ‘… for all of us.’
Whisker smiled, the sun moved behind a cloud, the writing on the book faded, Pete placed an old lantern in the treasure chest and Fred locked the lid.
It was time to go.
The Pie Rats left the cavern through the hole in the roof and made their way down the windy slopes. The Captain carried the Book of Knowledge. Fred carried Rat Bait.
‘I heard what you did up there,’ the Captain said quietly to Whisker as they neared the secret cove. ‘It’s quite a feat to outsmart Sabre and a brown bear on your own. You’ve passed your fourth apprenticeship test of Self-Reliance, paws down.’
‘Um, thank you, Captain,’ Whisker said, feeling a tad guilty about the glow worm’s assistance.
‘I also heard of Rat Bait’s feats on the mountain,’ the Captain continued. ‘He’s possibly the only rat more reckless than you, Whisker.’ The Captain chuckled to himself. ‘I’m glad I was wrong about him. I have a sneaking suspicion we’re going to need his help on our next big challenge.’
‘Which is?’ Whisker asked.
‘Winning the Pirate Cup,’ the Captain whispered. ‘But don’t tell the rest of the crew just yet. We have a few islands to search first, and I’d hate for Horace to overexcite himself before the tournament has even begun.’
‘I thought you didn’t want to enter,’ Whisker said in a hushed voice.
‘Between you and me, we could use the prize money,’ the Captain replied. ‘Besides, who can resist the Centenary Games?’
He stuck his paw in his coat pocket and pulled out a small slip of paper.
‘Our official entry receipt,’ he said, handing it to Whisker. ‘Paid in full by Madam Pearl. She wanted to tell you earlier, but things got a little hectic around here.’
Whisker looked over his shoulder at Madam Pearl. She gave him an elegant smile.
‘Do you think we have a chance of winning?’ Whisker asked the Captain.
The Captain tapped the book. ‘Maybe, if our training regime includes reading …’
One by one, the Pie Rats scrambled down the rope and onto the deck of the Apple Pie.
‘All paws on deck,’ the Captain commanded, even though the entire crew was assembled in front of him. ‘We sail westwards at once.’
‘Aye, aye, Captain,’ cheered the crew joyously.
The anchor was raised and the Apple Pie slowly drifted from the sheltered cove, towing the small yellow boat behind her. She rounded the cliffs and, with a mighty gust of wind, her sails filled with air.
In no time, the Apple Pie was racing along the rocky coastline, slicing through the white-capped waves like they were dollops of whipped cream. Whisker felt a new energy surge through his body as he breathed in the salty air. He had escaped the Treacherous Sea, conquered the windy, windy island and was headed for hope-filled horizons.
His enthusiasm was temporarily put on hold when a loud cry echoed down from the rigging.
‘Cat Fish ahoy!’ Fred bellowed. ‘Make haste!’
‘Cat Fish!’ Pete yelped, almost breaking another lead. ‘Where?’
‘At the top of the cliff,’ Horace cried, rushing to the side of the deck. ‘Seven of them.’
‘There can’t be seven of them,’ Pete snapped. ‘There are only six Cat Fish.’
‘There are definitely seven,’ Horace insisted. ‘Look, there they are, running along. Six little cats followed by one big one.’
‘That’s not a cat, you blind bandicoot,’ Pete shouted, raising a telescope to his eye. ‘That’s a bear!’
‘BEAR?’ Rat Bait exclaimed, waking up in the commotion. ‘Bear? Where?’
‘Calm down, Rat Bait,’ Whisker said, rushing over to him. ‘The bear’s on the island. You’re on the Apple Pie. We’re all perfectly safe.’
‘Unless you’re a Cat Fish,’ Pete sniggered as the seven figures on the cliff disappeared into a clump of pine trees.
‘Arrr, me head,’ Rat Bait groaned, trying to sit up. ‘It feels like I knocked me noggin’ on a pile o’ rocks.’
‘That’s not too far from the truth,’ Whisker remarked.
Rat Bait glanced around him, trying to fathom what had happened.
‘Did ye find the treasure then, Whisker?’ he asked. ‘What be it?’
‘A book,’ Whisker replied.
‘Oh,’ Rat Bait said, somewhat surprised. ‘What kind o’ book? Adventure? Romance? I be partial to a bit o’ romance, ye know.’
He winked at Whisker and then tilted his head in Ruby’s direction. Whisker felt his cheeks turning red.
‘Non-fiction,’ he blurted out. ‘It’s all non-fiction. It’s filled with maps and Rubycies – I-I mean recipes … and stuff.’
Whisker felt like crawling into a cannon and lighting the fuse. Ruby acted like she hadn’t heard him and pretended to tie a knot, with a suppressed smile.
‘Aye,’ Rat Bait said, clearly impressed. ‘The treasure be a book o’ some use then.’ He reached into his pocket. ‘Speaking o’ treasure, young Whisker, I still owe ye three pieces of gold for locatin’ the chest.’
He pulled out three gold coins and flicked them to Whisker. Whisker caught one with each paw and the third with his tail.
The gold felt surprisingly light to touch, but Whisker knew his limbs had grown strong during his time as an apprentice. He glanced down at the coin in his left paw, expecting to see the banana seal of Aladrya. Instead he saw the unfamiliar design of two paws inside a diamond.
‘Freeforian gold,’ Rat Bait explained. ‘I spent all the Capt’n’s gold on retirement real estate.’
‘I didn’t know Freeforia had a currency,’ Whisker said, confused. ‘My mother grew up there. Goods were always exchanged by barter.’
‘Times are a’ changin’,’ Rat Bait said. ‘Rumour has it that Freeforia has a new gold mine. I been hearin’ the news from the trader that gave me these coins. Strange fellow he was, a fox with no name, wearin’ a long black coat …’ He drifted off for a moment, before continuing with his usual enthusiasm.
‘I told him I was lookin’ to trade me trusty sloop for a smaller boat for me retirement an’ he said he had somethin’ on offer. The boat be in a pretty bad state, mind you, an’ I ummed and arred for some time. He finally threw in a bag ‘o Freeforian coins and the deal was done. As a ship repairer, I had no trouble fixin’ up the wee vessel, an’ look at her now, a golden beauty.’
‘So the yellow boat we’re towing is yours?’ Whisker said.
‘Aye, it is,’ Rat Bait replied, leading Whisker to the stern of the ship. ‘Isn’t she something? She has the sturdiest hull I’ve seen in years – strong enough to survive a cyclone. And look at that ca
rved anchor on the bow. Now that’s crafts-rat-ship.’
Rat Bait turned to Whisker for a response. Whisker stood rooted to the spot, his eyes transfixed on the boat, his paw clutching his anchor pendant.
The boat shone like gold in the afternoon sunshine. But all Whisker could see was red.
‘Are ye alright?’ Rat Bait asked.
Whisker struggled to find the words.
‘Y-your boat,’ he gasped in shock. ‘I-it belonged to my father …’
Book 4
The Trophy of Champions
Every four years, the greatest pirate crews on the seven seas gather for an epic tournament of strength and skill.
In the Pirate Cup, there is no silver and no bronze, only gold, gold, gold for the winning team, and the legendary Trophy of Champions.
As an official entrant, Whisker has more on his mind than victory. He is on the trail of a fox in a long black coat – and an answer …
Discover more about the Pie Rats at:
www.pierats.com.au
The Island of Destiny Page 17