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Authors: Song of the Winns

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BOOK: The Secret of the Ginger Mice
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Finally, Old Goosegob said, “Away then, lads, and grab yourselves forty winks afore the dawn.”

Alistair and Tibby Rose followed the others down the stairs and past the galley to a series of berths furnished with hammocks and sea chests. The last berth, and the smallest, belonged to the cabin boy (“And girl,” said Tibby). With some difficulty the two young mice clambered into the hammock and arranged themselves with Alistair's head at one end and Tibby's at the other.

At the sound of a bell clanging, Alistair sat bolt upright, making the hammock rock alarmingly.

Tibby Rose kicked him crossly. “What are you doing?” she said sleepily.

“I think it's time to get up,” Alistair said, rubbing his eyes. He could see mice slipping out of hammocks, yawning and grumbling, and making briskly for the stairs.

He climbed out of the hammock and Tibby Rose, yawning and grumbling, followed. “You really do make an excellent pirate,” Alistair told her.

As they filed past the galley, the stout, surly cook
handed each of them a slab of bread and a hunk of cheese.

The air on deck was fresh and cool with a pleasant salty tang, a welcome relief after the stale, stuffy air below decks. Standing at the rail as mice rushed around setting the sails and rigging, Alistair looked out over Sadiz, the sun tinting its square white buildings with gold. The great dome of the cathedral glowed yellow like the yolk of an egg. Despite the port's raucous nighttime revelries, the harbor was now a place of serious activity and industry. Along the wharves, voices echoed across the water as the crew from one ship taunted another. Captains and their mates bellowed orders, and the rigging of the ships lining the quay were alive with nimble mice. The fishing boats from the far side of the bay were returning to port with the day's catch, bobbing back to their moorings like little white corks with red and blue trim.

Captain Grizzard stood on the foredeck, shouting at any member of the crew who came within shouting range, while Old Goosegob stood at the aft issuing orders to the mice who scrambled about in the rigging. At a wink from the first mate the bo'sun cried, “Raise the anchor,” and two strong mice heaved at a great iron chain. A gust of wind filled the sails and the
Sickert
began to move, slowly at first, then faster and faster till it seemed they were flying across the water. As they neared the mouth of the bay, Sadiz shrank behind
them, until it resembled a small white stone gleaming on the shore. Tibby, who had been busy helping Scurvy Smottle, joined Alistair at the rail.

“Good-bye, Souris,” she said, but she sounded quite cheerful.

Alistair turned to look at her, standing at the rail with the breeze in her browny purple fur and a smile on her face. “Tibby Rose,” he said, “you look like you're
enjoying
being a pirate.”

“Aye, Alistair, it's a pirate's life for me.”

Alistair was taken aback. “But . . . but you're working alongside the most bloodthirsty mice on the Sourian Sea!”

Tibby shrugged. “They're not so bad when you get to know them.”

“But what about Captain Grizzard? You have to admit he's terrifying.”

“Oh, his squeak is worse than his bite.”

“Squeak is worse than his bite?! He wants to cut off our tails! And he'd do it too—remember that mouse we saw when we first came aboard? He had hardly any tail left at all!”

“Oh, you mean Kipper?” said Tibby. “Apparently that was an accident. According to Smottle, Kipper was the ship's cook. He and the captain had a disagreement about the nutritional value of onions and Kipper stormed out.
Captain Grizzard slammed the door behind him and his tail got caught.” She winced. “Ouch.”

“Well, the rest of the crew seem scared of him,” Alistair pointed out. “Look how they hang back when he comes on deck.”

“They just don't like the onion fumes,” Tibby explained. “It makes their eyes water.”

At noon on their second day at sea, a cry rang out from the crow's nest.

“Ship ahoy!” called the lookout.

Captain Grizzard stumped to the side and held his spyglass to his good eye.

“Cargo ship,” he declared.

“But what kind of cargo?” muttered Old Goosegob, who was at the wheel.

“Maybe it'll be gold,” said Alistair, trying to sound enthusiastic and pirate-like.

Old Goosegob turned a glum eye on the cabin boy. “Captain Grizzard's not interested in gold, son. Nor jewels, nor pieces of eight, nor figgy biscuits, nor treasure of any kind.” She snorted. “He's only interested in onions.”

“Here's the plan,” said the captain as he stumped over to join them. “We'll come alongside, then we board.
Down to the hold, plunder and so forth, bring the booty back here.”

“Then we sink them?” asked Goosegob hopefully.

Captain Grizzard eyed the cargo ship speculatively. “Nah,” he said. “Let 'em slink back to Shambles with their tails between their legs to haunt the taverns with tales of the fearsome Captain Grizzard.”

“Hurrah!” cried Alistair impulsively. It sounded like the perfect plan to him—he and Tibby Rose could hide aboard the cargo ship and slink back to Shambles too.

Captain Grizzard glared at him fiercely. “I wasn't asking for your approval,” he barked. “Now skedaddle down to the hold and fetch me an onion BEFORE I SLICE YOUR TAIL OFF!”

Alistair skedaddled.

19

Reunited

A
s the
Sickert
rammed the
Marmaduke
with a sickening crunch of timber, the pirates streamed across to the cargo ship with their cutlasses drawn. Alistair and Tibby Rose joined the throng.

“We should find somewhere to hide below decks,” Alistair said to Tibby.

While some of the pirates stayed on deck to do battle with the
Marmaduke
's sailors, another group scrambled down the stairs toward the hold.

Alistair and Tibby Rose scrambled after them.

As they reached the bottom step, Alistair said, “Follow me, Tib,” and darted under the staircase. “Look,
we can hide behind this barrel till we reach Shambles.”

But Tibby, who was standing on tiptoes to peer into the barrel, said, “Alistair, I'm not so sure this is a safe hiding place. There's something in this barrel I think you should see.”

“Pickled herrings, I presume.” Alistair, waving a hand in front of his nose, joined Tibby Rose and peered into the dark container. But instead of pickled herrings, he saw two pairs of eyes staring back at him. Two familiar pairs of eyes. Surely it was impossible—and yet . . .

“Tibby, quick,” said Alistair. “Help me lower the barrel to the ground!”

As gently as they could, they eased the barrel onto its side and pulled the two captive mice from it.

“Alice,” cried Alex as soon as Alistair took the gag from his mouth, “there's a mouse here who looks just like Alistair—only . . . kind of purple.”

“Thank you, Alex, I've got eyes,” said Alice, whose gag had been removed by Tibby Rose.

“Alex,” said Alistair, wrapping his arms around his brother's tied-up body, “it
is
me: Alistair. Oh, it's so good to see you both!”

“Alistair!” said Alex. “It's really you! Don't worry, we've come to rescue you!”

“That's a relief,” said Tibby Rose drily. “Just give us a second to untie you and then you can get to it.”

Alex's eyes flew to Tibby Rose, who was busy with the knots securing Alice. “Who are you? And why are you purple too?”

“It's a long story,” said Alistair. “This is Tibby Rose—she's kind of a cousin of ours, in fact, and under the purple she's ginger, like me and . . . I'll explain later. More importantly, what are you doing here? And why were you tied up?”

“We were looking for you,” said Alice. “We were hoping to find you before you were taken to Souris. But then Horace and Sophia—they're Sourian kidnappers—found us.”

“Only they weren't actually kidnappers,” Alex interrupted, “since they hadn't actually got you.”

“But they were still kidnappers,” Alice argued, “since they were
trying
to kidnap him—and they kidnapped us. Twice. Or is it three times?”

“True,” Alex agreed as Alistair untied him. He rubbed his wrists where the rope had cut into them. “Three times if you count the Riverside Inn.”

“That must be the pair of Sourian agents Feast Thompson and Slippers Pink were talking about,” Alistair said to Tibby Rose. “Where are they now?” he asked his brother and sister.

“In the captain's cabin last time we saw them,” said Alice.

“Then we'd better get off this ship before it docks at Shambles,” said Alistair.

“Shambles? This ship sailed from Shambles,” said Alice. “It's going to Souris.”

“Not anymore,” said Alistair. “Your ship was attacked by a pirate ship.”


Our
pirate ship,” Tibby Rose chimed in.

“You're pirates?” Alex said. He sounded confused. “Is that why you're purple?”

“No,” said Tibby. “We're purple because we're ginger.”

“I get it,” said Alice. “And you didn't want anyone to know you're Gerandan.”

BOOK: The Secret of the Ginger Mice
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