The Island Of Destiny. Cameron Stelzer

was the deck of the Apple Pie creaking softly and the sails flapping quietly in the wind.

      ‘Oh my precious paws,’ Pete groaned, staggering to his feet. ‘What the flaming rat’s tail was that?’

      Horace gripped the cannon with a terrified look on his face. ‘Th-th-the creature.’

      Whisker peered into the dark water at the front of the ship, hoping the hull had simply scraped a rock. Fred scanned the starboard side for clues. They saw nothing.

      ‘Check the hull for damage …’ the Captain began. He never finished his sentence.

      There was a loud SPLASH from the port side of the ship and an enormous head rose from the waves. Its brown-speckled skin glistened in the dying rays of the sun, its beady eyes stared down from either side of its hideous snout and its mouth curved open to reveal not one but two sets of savage jaws.

      It was the most terrifying creature Whisker had ever seen. It wasn’t a beast of mythology. It was real, very real and Whisker didn’t need a second look to know what it was.

      ‘GIANT MORAY EEL!’ he bellowed. ‘PORT SIDE!’

      The eel’s slender body rose higher into the air, propelled by its serpentine tail. Its dorsal fin rippled along its spine like seaweed in a tidal current. It hovered over the ship. Then it struck. Teeth bared, it ripped through the foresail.

      Ruby and Mr Tribble leapt clear as the eel’s body battered the mast. The huge fork toppled backwards, tearing the jib sail from its line. Whisker was flung from the bowsprit and hurtled towards the deck.

      He threw his paws forward to break his impact but the force of the landing catapulted the key from his paws. He watched in horror as it spun through the air, bounced off the bulwark, and disappeared into a shower of spray.

      A moment later, the eel’s enormous tail crashed onto the deck, dragging the front of the ship under the waves. Whisker struggled to stay afloat as the surge of water engulfed him. He heard the screams of the twins, desperately clutching the mainmast, and glimpsed the black figure of the Captain tumbling from the helm.

      The eel’s tail slid over the bulwark and the bow of the ship catapulted upwards in a wave of water. Spitting out salt water, Whisker somersaulted through the air, landed on his backside and skidded to a halt on the slippery boards.

      He raised his nose and frantically scanned the deck for the key. It was nowhere in sight. Before Whisker could pick himself up, the eel had reared its vicious head out of the sea.

      A loud BOOM echoed in Whisker’s left ear and a crude net of ropes and sinkers exploded from Horace’s cannon. The stray ends of long ropes snagged on broken barrels and twisted around the fallen mast. The rest of the net shot upwards, smothering the eel’s head in a mass of knotted cords.

      The enraged creature snapped its jaws, trying to tear through the net, but the ropes coiled around its teeth and held fast. In a fury, it lowered its head and plunged under the waves.

      Barrels and boards tumbled overboard. Tangled ropes tightened. With a hard tug, the eel began dragging the Apple Pie away from the shore.

      Whisker heard a loud cry and turned to see the Captain sliding towards a gaping hole in the bulwark, struggling to free his ankle from one of the ropes.

      Panic-stricken, Whisker scrambled to his feet and threw his arms forward in a desperate attempt to grab the Captain. His paws clutched at thin air.

      The rope dragged the Captain closer to the edge and, with a horrified gasp from Ruby, he vanished over the side.

      There was a muffled cry and then a splash. A moment later there was a second splash as Whisker dived, headfirst, into the ocean after him.

      

      Deep Water

      The water beneath the surface was dark and turbulent. Weighed down by his sword, Whisker exhaled the air from his lungs and kicked deeper. He knew he only had seconds to find the Captain.

      A black shape moved swiftly past him, covered in a tangle of criss-crossed cords. Frantically, he made a lunge for it. His paws wrapped around the smooth sides of a barrel. He dug his claws into the soft wood to stop himself slipping and held on tight. It wasn’t the Captain, but it was moving in the right direction.

      With the water rushing past his eyes, it was a struggle for Whisker to see anything, but he could just make out the silhouette of the Apple Pie above him and the shadow of a large rock to his left.

      The cord jerked violently to the left and the barrel scraped the side of the rock. Whisker felt something brush past his right ear. Tightening his grip, he turned to see the limp body of the Captain drifting beside him, the rope still attached to his ankle.

      Whisker seized his opportunity and grabbed the rope with one paw, looping his tail around the Captain’s leg. When he was confident he was secure, he kicked off from the barrel, sending it bouncing into the rock. It smashed open on impact, clouding the water in a dark liquid. Whisker lost sight of everything in the murky haze.

      Frantically, he tried to draw his scissor sword, but the speed of the current worked against him. He felt for the Captain’s sword. Alas, the handle was out of reach.

      A burning sensation spread through his lungs and he knew he was running out of time. If the Captain was still alive, he needed to get him to the surface – fast.

      The rope jolted left and Whisker was thrown against a rock. He winced in pain as a sharp piece of coral dug into his side, and he struggled not to inhale a lungful of gravy-tainted water. His head pounded, his chest burned, but he tried to stay focused.

      You’ve survived this before, he told himself, fumbling blindly with the rope in a futile attempt to unravel twisted loops and tangled knots. It was hopeless. The knots were too tight.

      Please, please, please, he begged, not giving in.

      As if responding to his plea, the rope suddenly went slack and Whisker felt a surge of hope – we’re free.

      He kicked furiously with his legs and pulled himself up the side of the rock with his paw, dragging the Captain with him. The water cleared and the Apple Pie grew visible. Halfway to the surface the rope began to tighten.

      We’re still attached, he thought in panic.

      In a final desperate attempt to free the Captain, Whisker looped the rope around a small outcrop of rock. Clutching the loose end in both paws, he waited in agony, his lungs ablaze.

      The rope went taught, tightening the loop. The creature pulled and Whisker held on. Seconds passed. The rope refused to break. Whisker felt himself blacking out …

      SNAP!

      With a powerful jolt that threw Whisker backwards, the rope finally tore in two and the Captain was free. Whisker fought his way to the surface, bursting through the white crest of a wave. He gulped in the salty air, each breath more painful than the last.

      Deliriously, he dragged the Captain onto a rock and reached down to check his pulse. Whisker’s paw barely touched his neck when the Captain coughed up a mouthful of water and began sucking in air.

      Whisker slumped down next to him, overwhelmed with relief and exhaustion. He watched helplessly as the wreck of the Apple Pie was dragged along the western side of the lagoon and disappeared out to sea. The Captain was alive but the Pie Rats were gone.

      The black velvet hat of the Captain drifted through the waves, rising and falling like a cork in a sea of champagne. Its golden pie insignia caught the attention of the two rats on the rocks.

      Whisker drew his scissor sword and plucked the soggy shape from the sea, handing it to the Captain. The Captain wedged the once-regal hat on his head, dribbling water over his face. He didn’t