you remembered something? Are Mum and Dad being held prisoner? Is that what you mean by chains?’
There was a pained look on Anna’s face as she searched her memories for an answer. Whisker guessed they were memories she’d rather forget.
After a long pause, Anna nodded.
‘Do you know where they are?’ Whisker asked cautiously.
Anna’s face went blank.
‘Chains,’ was all she could say.
‘It’s okay,’ he said, wrapping his arms around her. ‘We’ll rescue them – wherever they are.’He tried to sound confident, but deep down inside he felt as anxious as his sister. Staring into the fog, he imagined what lay ahead – beyond the river, through the dark pine wood. Hawk’s View Prison and its newest inmate …
His thoughts were interrupted by Horace’s loud attempt at a whisper. ‘Err, Whisker, I’m not sure if you’ve considered this, but what if your parents are chained up in the prison with the fox?’
Anna’s expression darkened.
‘Don’t spook the poor girl, you insensitive worm,’ Ruby hissed, reaching down to clobber Horace with her scissor sword and sending a plume of snow powder bursting into the air. ‘Hawk’s View Prison is filled with pirates and pickpockets, not cyclone-surviving circus rats.’
‘Ouch!’ Horace squeaked. ‘That was hardly called for. I was just trying to be prepared. After all, have you seen the security in that place? Fifty-foot walls, snow monkeys with crossbows … not to mention the elkhounds and hawks. I doubt a simple escape-through-the-cell-window-with-a-bedsheet kind of plan will cut it.’
Ruby straightened her crimson eyepatch and continued in a softer tone. ‘I’m sure Whisker will find a way to free the fox. He’s the master of jailbreaks.’
‘And the king of cunning plans,’ Chatterbeak chimed in.
Anna looked up at her brother with expectant eyes.
‘I’ll … I’ll think of something,’ he sighed. ‘Just give me some time.’
A hush fell over the companions and Whisker felt the enormity of the task at hand. It seemed almost impossible that four rats and a parrot could penetrate a mighty fortress and defeat an army of prison guards. And yet, somehow, Whisker knew he must find a way. The fox was his greatest hope – his only hope. Without him, Whisker doubted he would ever see his parents again.
His thoughts were still focused on that grim realisation when a faint sound alerted him to a new danger. The sharp cries of the eagles still echoed in the distance, but there was something closer – something much closer.
Vroomp, vroomp, vroomp.
It was the steady beat of wings approaching from the river mouth.
‘Listen,’ he whispered. ‘Can you hear that?’
‘Aye,’ Ruby said, throwing back her hood to hear more clearly. ‘Something is following us.’
‘What kind of something?’ Horace asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Ruby said. ‘But whatever it is, it sounds big.’
‘Like a dragon,’ Horace gulped.
Ruby rolled her eye. ‘This isn’t one of your fairy tales, Horace.’
‘Well, dragon or not, I don’t want to be stuck out here when that thing arrives,’ Horace argued.
‘Alright,’ Ruby said, peering around the fog. ‘We need a place to hide.’
‘There’s a pine forest between the town and the prison,’ Whisker suggested.
‘A cosy tree sounds good to me,’ Chatterbeak squawked, veering sharply towards the western riverbank.
‘Wait!’ Whisker hissed tugging the parrot’s feathers. ‘We can’t just go bumbling into the forest. Our pursuer will hear us change course and follow us in an instant.’
Chatterbeak straightened abruptly and the rats lurched in their seats.
‘Make up your mind,’ Ruby hissed, trying to regain her balance.
‘Sorry,’ Whisker said, ‘but we need to be smart about this.’ He pointed a finger into the fog ahead. ‘White-water rapids run all the way down this river. If we enter the trees at the first group of rapids, the roar of the water should mask our escape. With any luck, our pursuer will continue following the river while we find a safe place to hide.’
‘Just like our clock tower stunt,’ Chatterbeak cooed. ‘We fly one way and hope our pursuer goes the other.’
Whisker nodded. ‘Something like that.’
‘Okay, it’s worth a shot,’ Ruby said, glancing warily around her. ‘But you’d better hope we reach the rapids soon. The fog won’t last forever and I can hear that creature gaining on us.’
The companions fell silent, waiting for the first sign of the rapids and hoping the fog would hold out. The occasional muttered word about dragons escaped Horace’s lips but no one else dared to speak.
The thrumming wingbeat of their pursuer grew louder. VROOMP, VROOMP, VROOMP.
Growing weary, Chatterbeak’s strokes began to falter.
Keep going, Whisker silently encouraged.
And then he heard it – softly at first but then growing louder, the unmistakeable gurgle of rushing water.
Chatterbeak found a new strength and the race to reach the rapids was on. He moved low through the fog, oblivious to the loud flapping of his own wings.
Smooth-topped rocks appeared beneath him, protruding from the surface of the river. Foaming bursts of water sprayed into the air.
The gurgle transformed into a roar as fast-flowing streams cascaded over rocks, splashing into pools at their bases. Whisker waited until the roar of the rapids had drowned out every other sound and then reached out and touched Chatterbeak on the neck.
Instantly, the parrot swerved to his right, cutting across the rapids. Rushing water and swirling fog concealed his escape. He swept up the grassy slope of the riverbank and disappeared into the murky shadows of the pine forest.
The trees were black and silent, rising high into the air like enormous mountains of coal, their dense branches blocking out the sky. Low patches of mist drifted across the forest floor, wrapping their wispy tendrils around the mighty trunks.
Whisker looked back as they passed through the outer line of trees, but there was no sign of their pursuer.
The air grew colder as the companions continued deeper into the heart of the black forest. Soon the roar of the rapids was nothing more than a faint echo in the distance. Thin rays of sunlight shone through gaps in the foliage, slicing through the mist like long golden knives.
Chatterbeak rounded a trunk and Whisker glimpsed an enormous
