Child of the Cloud

by Cameron Stelzer

  ‘Rotten pies to aerial surveillance,’ Horace muttered. ‘Chatterbeak is hardly a stealth flyer.’

  Chatterbeak stuck his head under his wing and clucked sulkily.

  ‘Pull yourselves together, both of you,’ Whisker said, thrusting his scissor sword into his belt. ‘If the Blue Claw are already at the school gates, Ruby will need our help.’

  ‘It’s not the Blue Claw you have to worry about,’ Mr Tribble said, shaking his head, ‘it’s the Highland Hounds. The vicious hunting dogs of the Oakbridge battalion will sniff you out a mile away and then tear you to shreds before you know what’s biting you.’

  ‘Rotten pies to sniffer hounds!’ Horace gasped, plunging his nose into an armpit. He raised his head a moment later and winced, ‘Oh boy, we’re in serious trouble …’

  The Highland Hounds

  Picking up a bowl of dried herbs from the mantelpiece, Mr Tribble stepped away from the fire and threw the entire contents into the roaring flames. Immediately a pungent grey smoke began billowing across the room and out of the door.

  ‘That should mask your scent until you’re safely into the trees,’ he coughed, bustling the three travellers from the cottage.

  ‘If it doesn’t choke us first,’ Horace spluttered.

  ‘Once you reach the classrooms, I’d suggest you get airborne,’ Mr Tribble advised. ‘You won’t see them coming and there are too many places the dogs can trap you.’

  Chatterbeak flapped his wings in anticipation. Horace hugged the two children goodbye as Mr Tribble gave Whisker his final instructions.

  ‘The map in your possession will tell you everything I know about Cloud Mountain,’ he said. ‘The nesting territories of the four species of birds are clearly marked, but I’m afraid to say the exact location of the feast remains a mystery to me. Few creatures have visited the mountain and returned to share its secrets. Fewer still have attempted an expedition during the first month of autumn.’

  He pointed skywards to the ominous grey clouds. ‘Heavy snowfalls at the end of the monsoon season increase the threat of avalanches. And there’s always the risk of capture.’

  Whisker nodded apprehensively and turned to go.

  ‘Follow Eagle’s Pass to the lakeside village of Hawk’s View,’ Mr Tribble added. ‘Once you have crossed Lake Azure, head for the boulders above Blackbird Wood. It’s the logical place to commence your search and may provide you with a clue.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Whisker said. And with a quick wave to Eaton and Emmie, he wrapped his scarf around his mouth and dived into the smoky undergrowth.

  Hazy black shadows drifted across the forest floor, shrouding the three companions as they ran. Blindly, they scampered over thick beds of pine needles, ducking and weaving past low branches and moss-covered logs. Quickly losing any sense of direction, they took whatever paths they could find, often leading to wrong turns and sudden dead ends.

  Despite their slow progress, there was no thought of flight. A bird of Chatterbeak’s size had little chance of ascending through the dense layers of branches, especially with two heavily-dressed Pie Rats as passengers.

  Whisker grew more anxious as the vegetation thickened, and his thoughts increasingly turned to Ruby. He knew the champion swords-rat was better equipped than any of them to defend herself, yet skill and experience were little protection against a pack of savage dogs.

  As he blundered into yet another dead end, his mind swept back over the two short months they had known each other. Side-by-side, they had faced more challenges than most friends saw in a lifetime, conquering everything life threw at them. Not even jealous sisters, exploding cliff tops and an army of soldier crabs could tear them apart.

  But right now there was a sprawling forest between them, and Whisker felt powerless to help her.

  The soft gurgle of running water grew louder and Whisker realised in dismay that their wayward path had taken them in the opposite direction to the entrance gates.

  From his flight into the school grounds earlier that morning, he knew that Oakbridge Primary had been built in a bend of the Hawk River. The river formed the boundary on the western and southern sides of the school, with the entrance gates lying to the east and the juniper wood covering the entire northern perimeter.

  After berating himself for not taking a compass bearing earlier, Whisker decided that the swiftest way to reach Ruby was to head for the river and escape the dense undergrowth. Once they were in the open, they could fly east over the school oval and make their way past the classrooms to the entrance gates.

  Making up for lost time, the three companions quickened their pace and followed the sounds of the river. It wasn’t long before the trees began to thin and the lush, green grass of the school oval came into view through the gaps in the undergrowth.

  A high wooden fence stood at the western edge of the oval. Beyond it, the land dropped away sharply to reveal a rocky cliff face leading to the icy waters of the Hawk River.

  As Whisker stepped onto the open field, the steady babble of the river was drowned out by the loud bark of angry dogs.

  Horace drew his sword.

  ‘I’ve either got super hearing or those mangy mutts are much closer than the entrance gates!’ he exclaimed.

  Whisker pulled out his spyglass and extended it towards the far end of the oval. A large pack of dogs was bounding past the open door of the sports shed, howling and barking as they ran. They hadn’t spotted Whisker and his companions, but they were clearly in pursuit of something – or someone.

  Whisker swept the spyglass in an arc over the oval until he spotted a small figure dressed in red. Ruby was running for her life, her spiked hiking boots tearing up the turf, her cherry-red winter coat flowing behind her.

  ‘She’ll break a record for the hundred metre sprint at the pace she’s going!’ Horace called out, squinting into the distance.

  ‘Not against a greyhound,’ Whisker said in dismay, leaping onto Chatterbeak’s back. ‘Come on! The dogs are gaining on her!’

  As Horace threw himself up behind Whisker, there was a sudden howl from the trees behind them.

  ‘FLY!’ Whisker yelled, tugging at Chatterbeak’s feathers. ‘NOW!’

  Chatterbeak didn’t need any more encouragement. He flapped his powerful wings and rose into the air as a huge Rhodesian ridgeback came bounding out of the undergrowth. Snarling and frothing at the mouth, it made a desperate leap for Chatterbeak’s tail feathers but the parrot wheeled to the right just in time, leaving the dog snapping at thin air. With two more flaps of his wings, the rats were high above the barking dog and heading towards their escaping companion.

  In the centre of the field, Ruby was struggling to shake off her pursuers. Several greyhounds and a whippet had broken away from the other dogs and were rapidly closing the gap, their lean bodies slicing through the grass like knives.

  ‘We need to buy her some time,’ Whisker hissed to Chatterbeak as they neared two dachshunds at the back of the pack. ‘Can you do anything?’

  ‘They don’t call me Chatterbeak for nothing,’ the parrot chirped, diving towards the dogs. ‘Cover your ears - the dragon’s about to roar!’

  The loud-mouthed macaw let out an ear-splitting SKWRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!

  It was the most horrible sound Whisker had ever heard. High-pitched and piercing, it rang out across the oval like a hundred dying hyenas. Instantly, half of the dogs dropped to the ground, clutching their ears and yelping in hysterics. Those who managed to stay on their feet abandoned their chase and spun around to face the terrifying beast. Their fear evaporated in an instant when they saw the colourful parrot gliding overhead.

  ‘Pull yourselves together, you cowardly corgis,’ barked a greyhound at the front of the pack. ‘Back on your feet and after that rat!’

  When the confused dogs had finally resumed their hunt, Ruby was already bounding through the long grass at the edge of the oval.

  The fence loomed in front of her, tall and solid. Directly behind her, the throng of
angry dogs were howling for her blood. With only thin gaps between the wooden palings, Ruby was forced to climb. One paw at a time, she began her ascent, her claws digging into the soft wood as she pulled herself higher.

  Swiftly reaching the top of the fence, she threw her legs over the capping rail, preparing to drop to the other side.

  Something held her back.

  Watching closely from the sky, Whisker saw a wooden longbow strung over Ruby’s shoulder. The end of the bow was hooked on a nail and she was struggling to wrench herself free.

  For one horrifying moment she hung suspended in mid-air with two savage greyhounds snapping at her heels. Then the bow jerked free and Ruby was plummeting downwards, landing in a sprawling heap on the rocky ground below. Clutching at her left ankle, she picked herself up and hobbled away.

  Seconds later, the first greyhound hurdled the fence in a single leap, quickly followed by the second. The two dogs raised their heads and sniffed the air. Catching Ruby’s scent, they set off towards the edge of the cliff.

  Still in pursuit, Chatterbeak beat his wings like a hummingbird, trying to reach Ruby before the dogs.

  Whisker and Horace hung on for dear life. They could see from the sky what Ruby couldn’t from the ground. A massive rock lay at the base of the cliff, jutting out into the Hawk River. The rock was so wide, Whisker doubted a champion springbok could leap clear of it, let alone a rat. If Ruby expected a soft landing, she was in for a bone-crunching surprise.

  He tried to warn her but his cries were drowned out by the barks of the dogs. Oblivious to the danger she faced, Ruby scrambled forward, limping painfully over the rocks but refusing to stop.

  The two greyhounds closed in for the kill, their cold eyes fixed on their wounded prey. Chatterbeak drew level with them, squawking incessantly.

  Baring their teeth, the dogs prepared to pounce.

  With nowhere left to run, Ruby hurled herself forward and plummeted headfirst over the edge of the cliff.

  Eagle’s Pass

  The greyhounds skidded to a halt, sending a shower of gravel raining down after Ruby. Chatterbeak tucked in his wings and dropped from the sky like a bullet.

  Ruby’s body was light and she spread her arms wide to slow her fall. Above her, the freefalling parrot and his petrified passengers were moving at a blistering pace.

  For one heart-stopping moment, Whisker thought they would all end up as smears on the rock. But as the ground rushed towards them, Chatterbeak stretched out his claws and plucked Ruby’s body from the air. The moment he had her in his talons, he spread out his wings and fanned his tail feathers wide, attempting to halt his rapid descent.

  It wasn’t enough.

  Still moving at a tremendous pace, Chatterbeak flapped his wings frantically, trying to gain altitude. In the moment before impact, he propelled his body forward, skimming low over the surface of the rock. There was a loud SCREECH of metal as Ruby’s scissor swords scraped over the rock.

  Chatterbeak rose into the air. The screeching ceased.

  The next thing Whisker knew, he was surrounded by the deep blue water of the river and the rocky shore was far behind him. Feeling safe at last, he let out a sigh of relief.

  Horace let out a sigh of relief and a bad smell.

  ‘Poooheee!’ Chatterbeak squawked, swooping towards a patch of sand on the opposite bank. ‘I pulled off the aerobatic impossible and look at my reward!’

  ‘Sorry, Chatterbeak,’ Horace apologised. ‘I get gas when I’m about to die.’

  Chatterbeak lowered Ruby onto the soft sand and perched himself on a nearby rock. Eager to escape the lingering smell, Whisker clambered off Chatterbeak and rushed over to his injured friend.

  Ruby was sitting in the sand next to her longbow, breathing easily and calmly massaging her left ankle. She wore her trademark crimson eyepatch over her right eye, but her pirate bandanna was gone. The cherry-red hood of her newly-acquired snow coat hung low over her head, its striking colour perfectly harmonised by the two scarlet scissor swords dangling from her belt. She threw back her hood and looked up at Whisker as he approached.

  ‘Hi there, apprentice,’ she said casually, as if their cliff top ordeal had never happened. ‘Thanks for dropping in on me.’

  ‘Sure,’ Whisker said, sitting down beside her. He was never quite sure what to say around her and it didn’t help that he was still trembling, while she looked as cool as a cucumber in an ice bath. He hoped his embarrassing habit of blushing in her presence was a thing of the past.

  ‘How’s your ankle?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh, it’s fine,’ she said dismissing the injury lightly. ‘A little swollen, that’s all – but with half a day’s rest I’ll be running rings around those dogs.’ She gave Whisker a cheeky wink.

  Whisker wondered how Ruby could be taking things so well. Despite some discomfort in her ankle, she appeared to be her usual self – confident and energetic, without the slightest trace of fear in her emerald green eye.

  ‘Doesn’t anything scare you?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ she said, ‘heaps of things – falling off cliffs; being eaten by dogs – stuff like that.’ She shrugged. ‘But there’s no use worrying about them now, is there?’

  ‘I guess not,’ he said, staring across the wide expanse of water, ‘but, Ruby –’

  ‘I know,’ she cut in, ‘you want me to stop gallivanting around the countryside on my own.’

  Whisker sighed. ‘Was it that obvious?’

  Ruby gave him one of her cryptic smiles. ‘Don’t worry. Without Pete and his book of rules, someone has to keep us on the straight and narrow.’ She gestured to Chatterbeak and Horace, calming down with a game of Pull My Feather. ‘I somehow doubt those two are up to the task.’

  ‘So you’re saying I’m the boring one,’ Whisker muttered.

  ‘No,’ Ruby said, stabbing the end of the longbow in the sand. ‘I never said that. You’re more like the … the leader.’

  ‘The leader?’ Whisker said shocked. ‘But I’m just a –’

  ‘And before you give me that I’m-just-an-apprentice spiel,’ Ruby said, speaking over the top of him, ‘think about this. We’re not on the ocean anymore and there is no Apple Pie. Out here, rank means nothing and survival means everything. And when it comes to survival, you’re the right rat for the job.’

  Whisker resisted. ‘But what if I’m not ready to be the leader? With Anna’s life at stake, surely someone with more experience should be leading the rescue.’

  ‘It’s not about experience,’ Ruby said flatly. ‘It’s about who you are. Listen, do you think I chose to be the tomboy with the temper? Or Horace the clumsy little clown? No. We were born that way. And the same applies to you, too. When you first joined the crew, the Captain didn’t make you peel potatoes or polish his shoes like most apprentices. He gave you important responsibilities. Was it because he felt sorry for you? No. It was because you had potential. You weren’t born to be a deckhand, Whisker – you were born to be a leader.’

  She went back to massaging her ankle.

  ‘So that’s it?’ Whisker said. ‘You say I’m the leader, and just like that I’m the leader.’

  Ruby nodded. ‘Smart lad.’

  ‘But don’t we have to vote on it?’ Whisker argued.

  ‘Why bother?’ Ruby said with a shrug. ‘Everyone knows I always get my way.’

  Whisker threw his paws in the air. ‘Hooray for democracy …’

  ‘Look,’ Ruby said, ‘if it makes you feel any better, we all have our roles to play. I infuriate the bad guys, you come up with the plans, Chatterbeak flies us out of trouble and Horace keeps everyone entertained. I’d say we’re a perfect team.’

  ‘Alright,’ Whisker conceded, aware that any further protests would be in vain. ‘But as the leader, I want all of us out of here, pronto.’ He pointed to the distant cliff top to where a dozen dogs were pacing back and forth. ‘The Highland Hounds will find a path down here sooner or later and I doubt a few rapids will stan
d in their way.’

  Ruby picked up the massive yew-wood longbow and rose unsteadily to her feet. Balancing on one foot, she drew back the silk string, aiming the empty bow in the direction of the dogs. She released the string with a loud TWANG, almost toppling over.

  Whisker wondered if her injury was far more serious than she was admitting.

  ‘This old beauty has twice the range of my Pirate Cup bow,’ she mused, grinning through her pain. ‘Those mutts are lucky the arrows were locked in the archery cupboard.’

  ‘Yet another reason for requiring my skeleton key,’ Horace said, walking over to them.

  ‘We’ll discuss that later,’ Whisker said, anxious to depart. ‘Now if everyone’s had their toilet stop, we need to get a move on.’

  ‘Aye, aye, Capt’n Whisker,’ Horace said saluting him with his hook. ‘All aboard the parrot express. Next stop Hawk’s View and the beautiful Lake Azure.’

  Whisker sighed deeply. Captain Whisker. That will definitely take some getting used to …

  Laden with three rats, four scissor swords and a longbow, Chatterbeak rose high into the air, leaving the seclusion of the river behind. He flew west over the cliffs, squawking like a crazed cockatoo and drawing the attention of the watching dogs. As soon as his colourful plumage was out of sight behind a line of oak trees, he turned north, rejoining the river at the next bend.

  Flying low over the water to avoid any further detection, the companions followed the winding course of the Hawk River towards the mountains. Huge canyon walls rose above them, growing higher as the plains turned to foothills.

  From time to time they glimpsed a narrow track dipping down into the canyon before it rose sharply and disappeared from sight behind the cliff tops. From a map Whisker had seen in Pete’s cabin, he recognised the track as Eagle’s Pass, the sole route north from Oakbridge to the alpine village of Hawk’s View.