The Island of Destiny (15 page)

‘We've suspected Rat Bait's involvement with the Cat Fish for some time,' Ruby said. ‘He knows more about the treasure than anyone.'

‘But Sabre loathes him,' Whisker argued.

‘Exactly,' Ruby said. ‘And it makes him the perfect spy
.
Rat Bait wouldn't think twice about ratting us out to save his own skin, and there's a strong chance he's in cahoots with Madam Pearl. He once gave her the Forgotten Map to look after and she's the type of two-faced weasel who would sell her sister to the Cat Fish.'

‘Ruby's right,' Horace said in growing dread. ‘The Cat Fish have a nasty habit of showing up at the most opportune moments. They've either got perfect timing or there's a sneaky insider in our crew …'

Whisker gulped.

‘It's not just Pearl and Rat Bait I don't trust,' Ruby whispered, glancing around suspiciously. ‘Mr Tribble has been acting pretty strange lately and Pete's convinced he's up to something.'

‘Mr Tribble?' Whisker exclaimed. ‘No way! He's the most honest rodent on the ship.'

‘You haven't seen him recently,' Horace said grimly. ‘He's even more anxious than he used to be. He lurks in the background, listening to everything, but barely speaks a word.'

‘He did seem rather aloof when I came aboard,' Whisker recalled. ‘He didn't even say hello.'

Horace nodded thoughtfully. ‘Cast your mind back to Sea Shanty Island, when the Cat Fish were searching for Whisker. I clearly recall finding Mr Tribble alone in the mapmaking section of Salamander's supply shop
.
We know Sabre entered the store while Mr Tribble was in there, and there was plenty of time for the two to cut a deal.'

‘Isn't that a bit out-of-character for Mr Tribble?' Whisker said.

‘It's not as out-of-character as timid Mr Tribble volunteering for every one of our dangerous missions,' Horace retorted.

‘Make that every dangerous mission except raiding the
Silver Sardine,
' Ruby said. ‘It's clear where his allegiance lies.'

As Whisker struggled to separate fact from speculation, he remembered a strange incident involving Mr Tribble and the Forgotten Map. He didn't want to betray Mr Tribble unjustly, but his friends had a right to know.

‘There's something I haven't told you,' Whisker said. ‘It happened on the night we visited Port Abalilly. I was with Mr Tribble in the Portside Boutique when the manager, Selma, brought out the Forgotten Map. I was eager to lay my paws on the map, but Mr Tribble reached out and snatched it from under my nose. He told me he needed to verify the map before I could bring it back to the ship. The strange thing was, when he did examine it, he barely unrolled a corner. I'm not sure if this means anything, but I suspect he knew more about the map than we did.'

‘Maybe he had a tipoff from the Cat Fish?' Horace pondered. ‘There might be a secret marking on the map?'

The three rats paused to consider this new information. Whisker took out the map but couldn't bring himself to unroll it. He felt uncomfortable. It wasn't just the thought of Mr Tribble that worried him: it was the prospect that Rat Bait and Madam Pearl could also be back-stabbing spies. Despite their shortcomings, all three were his friends. He'd fought with them, he'd escaped danger with them and he wanted to believe they were all on his side.

Maybe they had me fooled from the start?
he thought.

There was a knock at the door.

‘Dinner's ready,' Emmie squeaked. ‘Piping hot mashed potato pies. Come and get it!'

Whisker knew the rest of the conversation would have to wait. He returned the map to its canister, while Horace wrapped the key and the eye patch inside the flag. Ruby placed the flag inside the wall and pushed the board back into place.

‘I think we should tell the Captain what we know as soon as dinner is over,' she whispered.

Whisker nodded. ‘If anyone can make sense of this situation, it's definitely the Captain.'

Anxiously, the three rats crept from the room and Ruby locked the door behind them. In sixteen short steps they were seated at the dinner table with the rest of the crew – traitors and all.

The Sting

Dinner was an awkward time of suspicious stares and sideways glances. Pete stared at Mr Tribble. Ruby stared at Madam Pearl. The Captain glared at Rat Bait, while Horace shifted his eyes between Mr Tribble, Rat Bait and Madam Pearl. At the far end of the table, Mr Tribble stared at the floor.

Whisker sat at the cheery end of the table next to the hungry Hermit, who devoured slices of mashed potato pie quicker than Fred could serve them. In the end, Fred plonked an entire potato pie in front of him and handed him a spoon. The Hermit used his paws.

The mood lightened considerably when Ruby struck up a conversation with the Hermit about paw to paw combat. Despite Ruby's pristine appearance and the Hermit's dishevelled exterior, the two were remarkably similar. By the end of second helpings, both were standing on their chairs, re-enacting epic escapes from the Hermit's past.

‘Dessert will be served shortly,' Emmie squeaked from the doorway of the galley.

The Hermit patted his bulging belly and climbed down from his chair.

‘Hermit is stuffed like a turkey and begs to be excused,' he said, with a small burp. ‘Hermit wishes to collect his belongings before he leaves windy, windy island.'

There had been no discussion of leaving the island, nor of staying to find the treasure, but the Hermit was clearly eager to depart.

‘I'll come with you,' Ruby volunteered.

The Hermit shook his head. ‘Island can be dangerous on moonless nights.' He gave Whisker a knowing look. ‘Hermit goes alone … but maybe with protection.'

‘Scissor swords, dynamite, a cannon – take whatever you want,' Horace said generously. ‘And if you accidently blow up the
Silver Sardine
, all the better.'

The Hermit left the room chuckling to himself.

Following dessert, the Captain sulked off to his cabin. One by one, Ruby, Horace and Whisker excused themselves from the table and headed for the Captain's quarters. Whisker was the last to arrive.

He entered the luxurious carpeted room, surprised to find Pete sitting at the Captain's ornate desk with the others. Smudge was perched on the clock, watching intently. The secret discussion was already in full swing.

‘… Mr Tribble doesn't strike me as a spy,' the Captain whispered, ‘even though the evidence goes against him.' He breathed deeply. ‘My money's still on Rat Bait. He's the rottenest egg in the henhouse.'

‘There's a chance all three of them are involved,' Pete murmured. ‘Tribble could be the main spy and others his backup. Ruby's eye patch only disappeared after we ran into Madam Pearl and Rat Bait.'

‘But how can we be certain?' Horace asked in a hushed voice. ‘We can't exactly torture the truth out of them – that's more of a Cat Fish thing to do.'

‘There is one tried and true method that doesn't involve torture,' the Captain considered. ‘It's what we in the industry like to call
The Sting.
Simply put, it's an elaborate trap with an irresistible bait.'

‘What kind of bait?' Horace whispered excitedly. ‘Gold-plated pies? Choc-coated cherries …?'

Pete screwed up his nose. ‘Not food, you dim-witted dugong. A map-coated key.'

The Forgotten Map lay open on the Captain's desk. The King's Key rested beside it. Pete and the Captain leant over the two items, their backs to the open door. Pete tapped his pencil impatiently while the Captain muttered quietly to himself. The happy chants of Fred and Emmie drifted from the galley:

Pecan pies for breakfast,

pumpkin pies for brunch.

If the crew are starving

serve them both for lunch!

There was a crescendo of pots and pans as the verse came to an end. The three rats hiding in Ruby's cabin winced.

‘I wish they'd shut up,' Ruby whispered. ‘I can't hear anything with that awful screeching in my ears.'

‘At least you can see,' Horace groaned. ‘You get the keyhole while I get the lousy gap under the door. Watching floorboards will hardly catch me a spy.'

‘Shh!' Ruby hissed. ‘Your whining is worse than Fred's singing.'

Horace flattened his face against the floor and breathed in a noseful of dust.

Whisker remained silent. He had the best view in the house. Through a large crack in the wall, he could see straight down the corridor and into the Captain's cabin.

The sounds of Fred and Emmie grew softer as their dishwashing turned to dish-drying. The lamp in the corridor flickered out.

Now the real action begins,
Whisker thought.

The Captain and Pete raised their voices, speculating on the meaning of the riddle. Whenever something important was discussed, they reverted to soft whispers. To anyone listening, their conversation was both highly intriguing and highly frustrating – exactly as planned.

After a lengthy critique of the map, Pete and the Captain turned their attention to the key.

‘Have we considered the shape of the teeth yet?' the Captain asked.

Pete lifted the key off the table and held it in front of him. The Captain moved closer, blocking the key from watching eyes.

‘Very interesting,' he said. ‘The teeth appear to be symbols. This first one could well be a …'

‘Aaachoo!' Pete sneezed, cutting the Captain off.

‘Bless you,' the Captain said. He pointed to the key and continued, ‘And this one is definitely a letter …'

‘Aaachoo! Aaachoo!' Pete sneezed again.

The Captain handed him a handkerchief. ‘Do try and keep your nasty germs off our precious key, Pete.'

Pete blew his nose. ‘Sorry, Captain. It must be the onion odour in the air, playing havoc with my sinuses.'

The Captain grunted and returned to his investigations.

‘Ratbeard's reward,' he marvelled. ‘Take a look at this. The third tooth, turned ninety degrees forms a perfect …'

‘Aaachoo! Aaachoo! Aaachoo!'

‘Enough!' the Captain snapped. ‘I'll never decipher anything with your infuriating outbursts, Pete. It's a healthy dose of Salamander's Sniffle Solution for you.'

‘Aye, Captain,' Pete muttered. ‘But you'd better take some, too. It could be contagious.'

The Captain groaned. ‘How inconvenient.'

‘Doctor's orders,' Pete sniffled. ‘Follow me.'

The Captain plonked the key on the table, blew out the candle and reluctantly followed Pete out of the room. Pete clomped a few steps down the corridor and took a detour into the mess room.

‘I think the Sniffle Solution is in the pantry,' he murmured. ‘I recall seeing it behind the flour jars …'

The door to the mess room swung shut, plunging the corridor into silent darkness. Whisker's tail twinged with anticipation.

Before his eyes had time to adjust, he saw a shadowy figure creep past him, quietly shuffling its feet along the gloomy passageway – it seemed the spy had taken the bait.

The ghostly silhouette stopped at the end of the corridor, glanced both ways and then stepped through the open doorway to the Captain's cabin.

With a frantic
BUZZ
of wings, Smudge dropped from the ceiling and clamped himself onto the intruder's head.

‘Now!' Ruby cried, wrenching her door open.

The door collided with Horace's nose and came to an abrupt halt. Horace bit down on his hook to stop himself yelping.

Ruby leapt through the narrow gap and charged into the darkness. Whisker was right behind her, and reached the Captain's cabin in seconds.

A dark figure staggered from the doorway, frantically waving its arms above its head. Ruby hurled herself at the intruder and the two of them tumbled to the ground.

The corridor suddenly filled with light as Pete and the Captain burst from the mess room, quickly followed by Fred and Emmie. An even brighter light lit up the space when Eaton appeared with his precious lantern. Its narrow beam shone the entire length of the corridor, illuminating the trembling figure on the ground.