The King's Key. Cameron Stelzer

pastries!’ Horace huffed in annoyance. ‘Two more crabs and I would have reached thirty.’

      ‘What a shame,’ Ruby hissed. ‘One more and I would have had fifty.’

      Horace ignored her and turned to Fred. ‘How many big fella? Eighty? Ninety?’

      ‘Ten,’ Fred replied with a baffled shrug.

      Ruby grinned triumphantly at Horace and pranced down the stairs to hunt for unwanted passengers below. The remaining crew assembled at the helm. Mr Tribble looked extremely relieved when Pete offered to take the wheel.

      ‘It’s much harder than it looks,’ he admitted.

      ‘So what did our new friends want?’ the Captain asked quietly. ‘They didn’t mention you-know-what did they?’

      ‘The Forgotten Map?’ Whisker gasped. ‘No …’

      It had only been a few hours since Whisker’s daring map-retrieval mission (he still stank of perfume from his flamboyant getaway from Madam Pearl’s boutique shop) and the last thing he wanted was for the map to fall into the claws of the Aladryan Navy.

      ‘There’s nothing to worry about, Captain,’ Horace said confidently. ‘Those hard-headed coral crunchers wouldn’t know the difference between a treasure map and a piece of toilet paper.’

      ‘Then perhaps their attack was connected to last night’s raid?’ the Captain wondered.

      ‘You mean today’s raid,’ Pete muttered, pointing a bony finger out to sea. ‘The note we intercepted mentioned a blockade of warships to the west, and we’ve just sailed out of our only safe haven.’

      The Captain stroked his chin thoughtfully. ‘I hadn’t intended on leaving Shipwreck Sandbar until the blockade had disbanded on Saturday morning. But then again, no Claw-of-War would venture within firing range of the sandbar – the water is far too shallow. If we head due-south through the remaining wrecks, we may escape unseen …’

      ‘And then what?’ Pete said sceptically. ‘Drop in for a slice of pie on Prison Island?’

      Horace gave Pete a prod with his hook. ‘Lighten up, grumpy bones. If we turn west before we reach Prison Island, we’ll be on a direct course for the Island of Kings – where the missing key awaits us.’

      ‘You make it sound so easy, Horace,’ Pete muttered. ‘I’ll wager my breakfast there’s a Claw-of-War lurking beyond the last wreck.’

      ‘I’ll accept your wager,’ Horace said eagerly. ‘If the coast is clear, I’m a well fed rat.’

      ‘You’ll be a well starved rat …’ Pete sniggered under his breath.

      Pete turned the Apple Pie to the south and Whisker helped the mice adjust the sails. Horace and Fred busied themselves removing broken crab claws and other debris from the deck. Ruby soon emerged at the top of the stairs and stood frowning at the multitude of scratch marks left by the crabs.

      ‘Anything to report, my dear?’ the Captain asked with interest.

      ‘No, Uncle,’ she replied, her expression lightening. ‘I found your cabin untouched and the Forgotten Map still hidden in the top drawer.’

      Whisker let out a sigh of relief. Legend foretold that the Forgotten Map led to a mysterious treasure of great power on the Island of Destiny. It was Whisker’s silent hope that the treasure would bring back his parents and sister, who disappeared in their little red boat on the night he was washed overboard in the cyclone. Whisker clung to the belief they were still alive …

      His thoughts were interrupted by an excited cry from Horace: ‘Argh me pastries! Last wreck to our starboard side. Put the kettle on, Fred.’

      ‘Hold your rat’s tails,’ Pete said warily. ‘I think the Captain should take a look at this.’

      The Captain clambered up to the helm and raised a short telescope to his eye. Horace and Whisker scurried after him. Pete stood motionless behind the wheel, looking queasy.

      ‘So?’ Horace squeaked, tugging the Captain’s sleeve. ‘Who misses breakfast?’

      The Captain lowered the telescope. ‘I’m afraid you both do.’

      ‘What?’ Horace gasped, turning a sickly shade of green.

      ‘There’s no Claw-of-War,’ the Captain elaborated, ‘but the coast is definitely not clear.’

      ‘S-s-so what’s out there?’ Whisker stammered, suddenly feeling as ill as the others.

      ‘I’ll give you a hint,’ the Captain said, deadpan. ‘They smell like fish, but they can’t stand water …’

      

      Out of the crab pot …

      There was an old Pie Rat saying that cats and rats got along like naked flames and barrels of gunpowder – explosively. As Whisker watched the armour-plated vessel of the Cat Fish racing towards him, he knew the comparison was frightfully accurate – the Silver Sardine was notorious for firing flaming fur-balls.

      ‘Simple Simon save us,’ Pete groaned in desperation. ‘They’re coming for the map.’

      ‘I thought Whisker blew up their rust-bucket boat last night,’ Horace said, confused.

      The Captain extended his telescope for a closer look.

      ‘The Silver Sardine is definitely afloat,’ he said. ‘Though it appears her cannons are still out of action.’

      ‘Small consolation,’ Pete muttered. ‘We’re out of cannon-pies.’

      Mr Tribble raised a trembling paw. ‘Might I suggest we take our chances with the shipwrecks, Captain? At least we won’t be eaten.’

      The Captain swung his telescope towards the sandbar and let out an agitated groan. ‘Ratbeard be kind. The Blue Claw are back for round two. The water is teeming with them.’

      Pete stamped his pencil in frustration. ‘Confounded crabs! Conniving cats! Can’t we find an easier enemy?’

      ‘What are our other options?’ the Captain asked, attempting to remain calm.

      Ruby drew both swords and voiced her opinion with a cry of ‘fight.’ The Captain politely shook his head and turned expectantly to Whisker.

      Since his dramatic rescue, Whisker had become the official go-to rat in dangerous situations. He’d saved the crew more than once with his desperate decision making and last-minute escape plans.

      ‘Err … well,’ he mumbled, beginning a process of elimination. ‘We can’t sail north while the crabs occupy the sandbar, and we can’t sail east with the mainland in the way. The Silver Sardine is blocking our southern escape route … but we could take our chances to the west and try to outsail them …’

      ‘What about the blockade?’ Pete interrupted.

      The crew looked nervously at Whisker. Whisker knew his plan was risky, but less risk than facing the cats.

      ‘If we encounter a blockade,’ he replied, ‘the Cat Fish are in as much trouble as we are.’

      With a hesitant nod of heads, the Apple Pie turned west. Immediately, the Silver Sardine changed course and the pursuit was on.

      Shipwreck Sandbar disappeared from sight as the two ships ploughed through the ocean. The Apple Pie had the up-wind advantage and a favourable breeze from the north-east kept her sails full. The Silver Sardine, however, carried an extra sail. The Pie Rats worked hard to maintain their speed but it wasn’t long before the Cat Fish began gaining ground.

      The specks of distant ships appeared on the horizon and the Captain handed Whisker the telescope, with a mumble