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 blink. He didn’t speak.
Whisker returned his sword to his belt, noticing the small map canister wedged beneath his pie-buckled belt. Its presence was a relief, but it also filled him with guilt. What good was the map without the key – the key he’d lost?
You should have been more careful, he scolded himself. You could have put it in a pocket, or left it in the navigation room.
He sat on a rock and wallowed in guilt. The Captain hadn’t spoken a word since Whisker had dragged him from the ocean, but Whisker could feel his black eye watching him closely. The key was Whisker’s responsibility. This was the second time he’d lost it and there were no excuses. He had to come clean.
‘I-I dropped the key in the lagoon,’ he blurted out. ‘I’m sorry.’
The Captain remained expressionless. ‘You risked your life to save me, Whisker. I’m hardly going to give you a lecture about losing a key.’
Whisker sighed and turned back to the ocean.
‘Thank you,’ the Captain added. ‘You didn’t have to come after me. It was more than anyone could have asked. I’m supposed to be keeping you alive, remember?’
Whisker was unsure how to respond.
‘I kind of just fell in,’ he replied humbly, . ‘Besides, what’s an apprentice without a captain?’
‘What’s a captain without his crew?’ the Captain said, the smile draining from his face. ‘Or his ship?’ He stared out at the horizon. ‘You and I are two peas in a mushy pea pie, Whisker. You’ve lost your family and now I’ve lost mine.’
‘B-but they’ll come back for us,’ Whisker stammered. ‘After they escape from the eel … Ruby and Horace and the others … we’ll see them again – won’t we?’
The Captain put a shaky paw on Whisker’s shoulder and Whisker felt a double pang of sadness in his aching chest – the Pie Rats were his family, too.
‘We can only hope,’ the Captain said slowly.
Whisker nodded. He was no stranger to hope. He carried it everywhere he went, in the form of a gold anchor pendant hanging around his neck. It wasn’t a charm, it was a reminder.
He touched its golden surface. The faces of his parents flashed before his eyes: Faye, the green thumb, patient and kind; Robert, the circus rat, crafty and inventive. Then he saw his little sister Anna, the lover of stories, followed by the faces of the Pie Rats: Ruby, Horace, Fred, Smudge,
