The Key
Whisker stared down at his beloved anchor, wondering what other secrets the tiny object had in store for him.
‘The symbol of hope,’ he said, holding it up by its torn black cord.
‘Aye,’ Rat Bait agreed. ‘It be a fine symbol o’ hope. But I have a hunch this pendant be much more than a symbol, an’ much more than a family heirloom.’ He glanced warily down at Eddie, who was acting as a footstool for Ruby’s injured leg. Satisfied the gerbil was still unconscious, he lowered his voice to a whisper and said, ‘I overheard somethin’ in me youth, a strange thing Anso once said, an’ it’s puzzled me ever since.’
‘Oooh,’ Horace said excitedly, leaning forward on the stump. ‘I love a good Anso story.’
Looking more like his usual jovial self, Rat Bait winked at Horace and began, ‘It happened when I be very young. We’d just moved from Freeforia to Aladrya an’ livin’ in a brand-new house in Port Abalilly. Surrounded by lavish boutiques an’ sweet smellin’ candle shops, it be the finest buildin’ in the port. With its beautiful furnishin’s, airy curtains an’ ornate plaster façade, I thought I be a prince in me own palace.
‘Anso be busy with his admiral duties most days, so I amused meself runnin’ up an’ down the spiral staircase an’ playin’ hide-and-seek with the servants’ children. One wintry day, when I be hidin’ under a couch in Anso’s study, he walked into the room an’ sat down at his desk, unaware that I be there. As I lay silently, waitin’ for him to leave, I overheard him talkin’ to himself. I don’t remember all o’ his words, only the strange riddle he kept repeatin’.
‘Riddle!’ Horace squeaked in delight. ‘Anso was the king of riddles. What did he say?’
‘I’ll write it down for ye,’ Rat Bait said, picking up the fountain pen and tearing off a blank strip from the back of the newspaper. Using his top hat as a small table he wrote four lines of text, then read them aloud.
‘The strange thing be,’ Rat Bait said, continuing his story, ‘when I peered up at Anso, his paws be claspin’ his anchor pendant. He hurriedly left the room without spottin’ me an’ that be that. I never been much o’ a riddle solver, so I pushed the memory to the back o’ me mind an’ never mentioned it to anyone. I presumed Anso took his pendant to his grave an’ with it went its secret. But here it be, in the clutches o’ his great-grandson –’
‘– who happens to be a master of riddle solving,’ Horace said, clapping Whisker on the back with his hook.
‘So the Book of Knowledge wasn’t the only treasure Anso hid from searching eyes,’ Whisker said, already deep in thought. ‘And you think this treasure might be valuable enough to buy the fox’s freedom and secure my parent’s release?’
‘Aye, that be me hunch,’ Rat Bait said.
‘And what makes you certain this treasure is still out there?’ Ruby asked sceptically. ‘You overheard that riddle a long time ago.’
‘It all comes down to this,’ Rat Bait said, ‘Anso be rich. Extremely rich.’
‘He didn’t die rich,’ Whisker said, puzzled. ‘My father said he was comfortable in retirement, but there was nothing to indicate he was living it up in style.’
‘So where did his fortune go, then?’ Rat Bait said, continuing his line of reasoning. ‘He didn’t gamble. He didn’t squander money on friv’lous pleasures. Anso’s wife, me mam, died when I be young, so she didn’t spend it. An’ after I left, Anso’s only heir must have been yer father.’
‘Robert didn’t receive a big inheritance,’ Whisker admitted. ‘As far as I know, the only thing Anso ever gave him was the pendant –’ He stopped himself. ‘You don’t think Anso told him about the riddle, do you?’
‘Unlikely,’ Ruby said, before Rat Bait could answer. ‘You never mentioned your father passing down any secret riddle when he gave you that anchor.’
‘True,’ Whisker considered.
‘But that don’t stop Robert knowin’ ‘bout it,’ Rat Bait said, stroking his chin. ‘Maybe he’s waitin’ for the right time to tell his son. The promise o’ riches be corruptin’ many a young mind b’fore.’
‘Is that why Anso hid his secret from you?’ Ruby asked bluntly.
‘It be a possibility,’ Rat Bait said with a resigned shrug.
‘So does the riddle tell us where to find the treasure?’ Horace asked, pointing his hook at the scrap of paper.
‘I’m not sure,’ Whisker said. ‘Perhaps if we broke it down line by line.
‘Oh, allow me,’ Horace said. He cleared his throat and read the first line. ‘In darkness deep where anchors lie. Okay. Any thoughts?’
‘Hmm, it sounds like a reference to the bottom of the ocean,’ Whisker said. ‘Somewhere deep enough to block out the sunlight but shallow enough for an anchor to reach – a location close to the coastline perhaps.’
Horace let out a long whistle. ‘Shiver me riddles, you’re good.’
‘Next line,’ Whisker said, taking the praise in his stride.
‘A treasure hides from searching eyes,’ Horace read.
‘Easy,’ Ruby jumped in. ‘You don’t need to be a genius to figure that line out.’
‘Oh yeah?’ Horace challenged.
‘Ruby rolled her eye. ‘It’s obvious. The treasure is hidden somewhere where no one can see it.’
‘And does Whisker agree?’ Horace said, turning to his thoughtful companion.’
‘In part,’ Whisker began.
The smug look on Ruby’s face quickly turned into a frown.
Whisker continued warily, ‘The searching eyes bit would suggest that someone was already looking for the treasure. Either that or the treasure is located somewhere near a coastal watchtower or a harbour lookout.’
Horace clapped his paw and hook together. ‘Brilliant deduction. That’s two points for Whisker and zero points for –’ He took one look at the raised sword in Ruby’s right paw and abandoned his scoring. ‘And moving on to the next line. Six hundred stairs, a mighty hall.’
Whisker looked at him blankly. ‘Now this is where the riddle gets tricky. I’ve never heard of a specific location containing six hundred stairs before.’ He looked around to see if anyone else had. Rat Bait and Ruby shook their heads, Chatterbeak continued sleeping peacefully, and Eddie, predictably, made no response. A short distance away, Anna was too busy entertaining Balthazar to even notice the conversation.
Horace shrugged. ‘You know me. I love counting stairs, but I’ve never climbed a perfect six-hundred-stepper before.’
‘Alright,’ Whisker
