The Island of Destiny (2 page)

‘I think he's spotted something,' Whisker said.

‘Rain,' Ruby huffed. ‘A whole lot of rain.'

Smudge shook his head and pointed again.

Whisker squinted out to sea, hoping to catch a glimpse of a rock or an island. All he could see was rain, more rain and a blurry patch that looked remarkably like rain.

‘Find Fred, Whisker,' Ruby snapped. ‘He'll tell us if there's anything out there.'

Without protest, Whisker scampered down the stairs in search of the sharpest lookout of the crew, Fish Eye Fred.

The ship lurched from side to side with every passing wave, bouncing Whisker off the walls of the narrow corridor. He heard the sounds of silver plates clanging to the floor and the echo of Pencil Leg Pete's spare pencils rolling around a cabin. Finding the upper level deserted, he made his way to the cargo hold at the bottom of the ship.

Peering through the doorway, Whisker could see orange light radiating from a lantern in the centre of the cluttered room. Horace scrounged through a pile of ropes in the corner, while Pete splashed his red pencil leg in a pool of water, issuing orders to Fish Eye Fred and the three school mice.

To his right, Whisker noticed a large hole in the side of the hull, boarded up with wooden planks, stamped
FIREWORKS
. Fred was busy painting a brown liquid over the cracks. Emmie and her twin brother Eaton applied the gravy-like substance to small leaks, while Mr Tribble examined the opposite side of the hull for further damage.

Mr Tribble looked up through smeared glasses as Whisker entered the room.

‘Hello, Whisker,' he said in his polite teacher's voice. ‘Have you come to assist?'

‘Err, not exactly,' Whisker said, almost slipping on a fresh patch of gravy. ‘I need to borrow Fred. Smudge has spotted something in the rain.'

Pete screwed up his bony white nose and sniffled, ‘Can't you see we're all busy?'

‘Some of us are busy,' Horace muttered. ‘Others are just paddling in puddles.'

Pete narrowed his pink albino eyes at Horace. ‘Supervising is a very important role, especially for a quartermaster of my calibre.'

Horace gave Pete a dismissive wave of his hook and returned to the ropes.

‘I'm sure we can spare Fred for a couple of minutes,' Mr Tribble said diplomatically.

‘Alright then,' Pete snapped. ‘But you're on gravy duty, Tribble. That stuff gets up my nose!'

Fred handed his saucepan of gravy to Mr Tribble and grunted goodbye to Eaton and Emmie. Eaton looked up and, as usual, said nothing. Emmie, the recently appointed hygiene officer of the ship, shook her head.

‘You can't go up there looking like that, Uncle Fred,' she said. ‘You've got gravy all over your arms.'

Fred removed his white chef's hat from his enormous head and used it to wipe the gravy from his tattooed arms.

‘Better?' he asked.

‘You've still got a spot on your earring,' Emmie scolded. ‘Ruby would be ever so furious if it dripped on her deck.'

Fred gave his safety pin earring a quick wipe and stuck his gravy-stained hat back on his head.

‘Now we go,' he grunted.

The giant rat followed Whisker up to the deck, whistling an out-of-tune rendition of
Rain, Rain Go Away
through his protruding front teeth. The rain had eased slightly when they reached the top of the stairs, but the wind was no less fierce.

‘Over here,' Ruby hissed from the bow of the ship.

Fred lumbered towards her, swivelling his enormous eye from west to east.

‘Lots of rain,' he remarked.

Ruby frowned at Smudge. ‘I told you.'

Fred fixed his eye on a point out to sea.

‘Black rocks to the east,' he muttered.

‘East,' Whisker exclaimed. ‘Are you sure?'

Fred nodded. ‘Looks like an island.'

Smudge folded four arms across his chest, awaiting an apology. The wind blew him straight off the barrel.

‘Land ahoy!' Ruby shouted. ‘Starboard side.'

The Captain raised a short telescope to his eye and peered through.

‘That's our island,' he declared. ‘And to think, we were sailing straight past it.'

There was a cacophony of bumps and thumps as Horace leapt onto the deck in a tangle of ropes and sinkers.

‘Shiver me shipwrecks!' he cried, ‘What have I missed?'

‘A whole lot of rain …' Ruby smirked. ‘Oh, and Fred found the Island of Destiny.'

Horace gave Fred a friendly prod with his hook. ‘Good work, big fella.'

Smudge waved two arms in the air as if to say,
hey what about me? I saw it first.

The Captain lowered his telescope, swinging the wheel to his right. The
Apple Pie
turned eastward into the wind and an icy blast of rain smacked the crew head on.

‘Brrrr,' Horace shivered dramatically.

‘Drop the anchor and haul in the sails,' the Captain commanded. ‘We can't sail into this headwind, and I won't risk tacking and losing the island.'

Ruby, Whisker and Horace scrambled over to the sails, lowering the enormous items of clothing, while Fred attempted to drop the anchor. There was a loud
CLUNK
as the anchor line came to the end of the spool.

‘Oh dear, oh double dear,' Fred groaned. ‘We're in deep, deep water.'

Ruby leapt from the mast. ‘The anchor hasn't reached the sea floor, Captain. We can't just drift; the wind will blow us miles from the island.'

The Captain was silent, considering his options. Whisker looked east. The rain appeared to be clearing, though he still couldn't see the island with his naked eye.

‘We have no choice,' the Captain said, begrudgingly. ‘We'll sail short legs to the south-east and then to the north-east to catch the wind. Hopefully we'll reach the island before nightfall. I want Smudge and Fred at the bow of the ship. Let me know the moment you lose sight of the island. Ruby and Horace, you're responsible for the sails. Whisker, you're on the helm with me.'

‘Aye aye, Captain,' cheered the crew.

Whisker hurried up the stairs to where the Captain waited anxiously behind the wheel.

‘Whisker,' he said in a low voice, ‘you remember Rat Bait's story about the island, don't you?'

Whisker nodded slowly, but said nothing. It was a touchy subject, to say the least. The Captain's father, Ratsputin, had once attempted to reach the Island of Destiny – and failed. Following his disastrous voyage, Ratsputin deserted his crew and his family. Whisker knew the Captain harboured a deep resentment towards his father and thought it safer if he kept his mouth shut and let the Captain do the talking.

The Captain continued speaking through gritted teeth, ‘My father experienced these exact conditions when he sailed to the island. It was a stormy afternoon. There were sharp rocks, pounding waves …'

‘The Treacherous Sea,' Whisker said quietly. ‘The
Princess Pie
and her crew barely made it out.'

The Captain stroked his chin thoughtfully. ‘If we're going to risk the Sea, we'll need a safe passage. I doubt our hull will hold if we collide with a rock or a sea creature.' He straightened his back. ‘My father may have failed, but he was ill-prepared. We know the dangers we face and we have the King's Key – something he never possessed.'

‘I can examine the key for clues,' Whisker said, eager to end the conversation. ‘Maybe there's something we haven't spotted.'

The Captain nodded. ‘This may be our only chance of finding the treasure.'

A treasure with the power to alter one's very destiny
, Whisker recalled. He dared to imagine – the power to find my family.

I'm depending on you, Whisker,' the Captain said soberly. ‘We all are.'

The Rock of Hope

With the weight of the
Apple Pie
on his shoulders, Whisker descended the short flight of stairs to the navigation room.

He found the Forgotten Map and the King's Key lying in the centre of the table. A rough tracing of the map sat nearby, courtesy of Pencil Leg Pete.

Just in case,
Whisker thought.

He brushed the wet fringe out of his eyes and placed the King's Key over the hole in the island, completing the map. Glancing down at the riddle, he read:
Dark and Treacherous your voyage may be, keep Hope in your sights as you pass through the Sea.

Whisker examined the map closely, aware that the misplaced capitals were place names. The Treacherous Sea was a rocky lagoon surrounded by high cliffs. There was one entrance from the ocean and one place to go ashore: a river estuary flowing around the Rock of Hope.

Our destination,
he told himself.

The rocks appeared to be concentrated in the centre of the lagoon, forming a deadly obstacle course. Whisker ran his finger to the left and right of the rocks.

Two clear passages
, he pondered,
and one sea creature.

He explored the map for clues, reading and rereading the riddle, but found no mention of the creature or which direction to sail.