Child of the Cloud Page 18

  Fastest Rat in the World

  Eagle’s Cliffs was a mass of utter confusion. Wings flapped in every direction. Feathers rained down snow, fluttering and twirling in the moonlight. The ledge was so tightly packed with birds that they struggled to launch themselves into the air.

  Reaching the end of the altar, the two rats glided silently over the heads of the panic-stricken flock. Whisker spotted a handful of hawks heading east after Chatterbeak, then watched as several ravens doubled back to the cage. He desperately hoped that Horace had made it to the passage safely.

  The shrill cries of three eagles to his left reminded him of his own safety. Wings flapping, the eagles launched themselves from a spur of rock on the outskirts of the ledge. They rose as one feathered mass, blocking out the moon and attempting to cut him off.

  Anna squealed in alarm as the closest bird made a sudden lunge for Whisker’s head. Anticipating the attack, Whisker swung his tail hard to the right, while retracting his wings. His body rolled to the right, slicing under the swooping bird and narrowly avoiding a collision with a pair of peregrine falcons.

  At the sight of the bat-like flying machine hurtling towards them, the two falcons leapt clear. A moment later, they rose angrily into the air and joined the eagles in pursuit.

  With the shrill cries of the birds in his ears, Whisker steered the Ghost Wings through a sweeping arc, clearing the outer rim of the ledge. Beneath him, a dense line of clouds hugged the lower mountain, stretching south to engulf the buttress and the Erratic Blocks.

  Once he reached the cover of the clouds, he believed he would have a flying chance of losing his pursuers. Reaching the clouds, however, was the real challenge. His ghostly cover was blown, he was carrying a passenger and he was flying against aerial assassins. Worse still, the Ghost Wings had no form of self-propulsion. The birds could flap their wings to increase their speed, but Whisker relied solely on gravity and the wind to keep him moving.

  He glanced over his shoulder, hoping for some good news. A short distance behind him, the peregrine falcons were hurtling past the three eagles, rapidly gaining ground.

  ‘Blast!’ he hissed. ‘That’s not what I was hoping for.’

  Trying to remain calm, he peered across at his crudely constructed wings, weighing up his options. There was no way he could outfly the fastest birds in the world, but there was still a chance he could outfall them.

  ‘Brace yourself,’ he whispered to his sister. ‘We’re going down.’

  Anna tightened her grip on Whisker’s belt, wrapped her tail around his leg and closed her eyes.

  Whisker heaved his tail downwards and retracted both wings.

  Immediately, his body began to fall.

  Headfirst, he plummeted towards the clouds. He felt the icy air rushing up to meet him, blasting the hood off the back of his head. His eyes stung. His scarf flapped wildly in the wind, unravelling itself from his neck.

  For a moment he was flying blind, his eyes covered by the thick fabric of the scarf. Then the scarf tore free, disappearing into the darkness above him.

  There was a shrill cry of alarm and Whisker jerked his head upwards to see his scarf tangled around a falcon’s neck. The bird was rapidly losing ground, unable to free itself, but the second falcon was now only metres behind him. It hurtled through the night sky like a meteor, its streamlined wings tucked neatly by its side.

  Whisker felt his own wings vibrating in the wind, the makeshift frame protruding wide of his shoulders. In a desperate attempt to increase his speed, he threw his arms in front of him, collapsing the wings even further until they were in their folded position – a narrow bundle of reeds and fabric extending over his head.

  The vibrations stopped and Whisker gathered speed, diving vertically down the cliff face. The band of clouds grew closer – a fluffy grey mattress waiting to cushion his fall.

  But he wasn’t there yet.

  He looked back to see the falcon sitting in his slipstream. Astonishingly, it was still gaining ground. He could see the vicious gleam in its eye. He could almost feel its beak tearing through his flesh. The bird was a born killer, a master of the air, and in moments it would have him.

  In the split second before the falcon struck, Whisker did the unexpected. He threw his arms wide open, heaving the Ghost Wings into their fully extended position.

  There was a horrible tearing sound as the wings shuddered to a stop in mid-air, rattling every bone in Whisker’s body. The sudden impact wrenched Anna’s paws from his belt. Only her tail, wrapped securely around her brother’s leg saved her from falling.

  Caught unawares, the falcon continued its rocketing descent, skidding past the tail of the Ghost Wings and vanishing into the clouds.

  With the fabric of the Ghost Wings now hanging from the frame in tatters, Whisker hooked his legs around Anna’s body and steered his battered craft into the grey unknown.

  He waited until they were surrounded by clouds and then whispered to his sister, ‘Are you alright?’

  Anna let out a nervous squeak and refastened herself to his belt.

  ‘Stay alert and tell me if you hear anything,’ Whisker said, peering into the shadowy clouds. ‘We’re not alone …’

  He angled the damaged wings into a gliding position and began steering west in the direction of the Erratic Blocks. A stiff easterly tailwind kept the Ghost Wings aloft but, even with the wings fully extended, the craft was rapidly losing altitude. In the filtered light of the moon, Whisker noticed huge ripped sections of fabric on every wing panel and doubted the Ghost Wings would survive another attack.

  Dropping below the line of clouds, Whisker saw the jumble of boulders sprawling out beneath him. Square-topped and heaped with snow, they filled the moonlit landscape like an enormous tray of cream-slathered scones.

  At least it will be a cushioned crashlanding, he told himself.

  Squinting towards the centre of the boulders, he could just make out the pile of rocks forming the roof of the dome. With his current rate of descent, he would land well short of the cavern entrance.

  The sudden whoomp, whoomp of flapping wings dashed any hopes of a smooth ride to safety.

  Whisker raised his eyes skyward to see two golden eagles descending through the clouds. They were flying abreast, their massive wings beating rapidly, their eyes fixed on a point in the distance.

  For a moment Whisker thought they hadn’t spotted him. But the tiny spark of hope was extinguished by a terrible realisation. The cunning hunters weren’t pursuing him directly, they were attempting to cut him off. Whisker’s tattered flying machine was no match for the speed of the eagles. His only hope was to change course and head for the cover of Blackbird Wood.

  He was about to pull in his wings for a kamikaze snow dive when Anna tugged on his belt and pointed below. A third eagle had appeared from the treetops and was rising skyward to intercept them.

  ‘Ratbeard save us,’ Whisker gasped, watching the bird’s amber eyes glistening in the moonlight. ‘We’re trapped in thin air.’

  The irony of the situation did nothing to calm his nerves. The birds had orchestrated their attack perfectly, flying west while the two falcons chased the Ghost Wings into the clouds. In seconds, Whisker and Anna would be sandwiched between the three eagles and then …

  Whisker had to think fast. He couldn’t steer the Ghost Wings into a headwind, and the eagles had every other direction covered – up, down and straight ahead. It was three against one (one-and-a-half including Anna), but Whisker knew the rats’ chances of surviving a mid-air encounter were closer to three hundred to one.

  Flying … fighting … he thought in desperation. There has to be something else I can do …?

  And then he had it.

  With a quick word to Anna, he opened his mouth and let forth a tirade of screams and wails. Well versed in the art of tantrum throwing, Anna added her support to Whisker’s wailing cries.

  It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t noble. But it was incredibly loud.

&n
bsp; Unperturbed, the eagles continued on their current course, drawing ever closer to the howling siblings. Whisker knew a few crocodile tears would never sway his pursuers – but that had never been his intention.

  There was a sudden burst of yellow from the clouds above him and a large rock plummeted downwards. Whisker heard a dull thud, followed by a startled squawk, as the closest eagle spiralled out of control.

  He had just enough time to glimpse a second rock being released from Chatterbeak’s claws before the second eagle plunged after its companion, its left wing flapping uselessly by its side.

  The third eagle realised its own danger too late. As it watched its stunned companions land awkwardly in the snow, an arrow net was already hurtling towards it. By the time it had raised its head to investigate the strange whizzing sound, its entire body was smothered in a tangle of string and sinkers.

  ‘Bullseye!’ Ruby shouted from Chatterbeak’s back as the eagle collided with a pine tree, sending a shower of snow raining to the ground. She raised her longbow triumphantly and cheered, ‘The rescue team has arrived!’

  ‘Caw, caw, hold steady,’ Chatterbeak whistled, swooping towards the tattered flying machine. ‘Whisker looks like he could use a tow.’ He extended his claws and clamped himself onto the rickety frame.

  Whisker felt a sudden tug on his shoulder straps as Chatterbeak began hauling him through the air.

  ‘Uh-oh,’ Anna said, staring up at Chatterbeak’s yellow underside. ‘More birdies …’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Whisker reassured her. ‘Chatterbeak’s a friend. We’re safe now –’

  ‘Almost safe,’ Ruby shouted from above. ‘Don’t look now, but it appears your melodramatic performance has attracted an entire audience of hawks, and they’re demanding an encore.’

  Parrot Power

  Whisker looked up. With the wings of the giant parrot stretched above him he could see very little of the cloudy sky, but the chorus of kee-eeeee-arrs echoing across the mountainside told him the red-tailed hawks were close, and they had not come for an autograph.

  ‘Can we outfly them?’ Whisker asked, staring hopefully towards the cavern.

  ‘We’ll have to,’ Ruby called back. ‘My last arrow net is wrapped around that eagle.’

  ‘Coooeee,’ Chatterbeak trilled. ‘It’s going to be close. They’re coming in fast, and I’m carrying cargo!’

  Whisker muttered angrily under his breath. His friends had risked their lives to rescue him and here he was, a dead weight, dragging everyone down. He wished he could do something to help, but stepping out and pushing was hardly an option.

  He looked across at his wings, flapping wildly in the wind.

  ‘Maybe I can minimise the wind resistance,’ he thought aloud.

  Chatterbeak whistled in agreement. ‘Streamlined for speed. That’s how I like it!’

  Ignoring the shrieks of the approaching birds, Whisker hurriedly retracted the Ghost Wings until they were once again in their fully folded position.

  Wings out, wings in … he reflected. It never ends.

  Readjusting his grip on the narrow frame, Chatterbeak drew Whisker and Anna closer to his body.

  It was now a race to the finish line.

  Whisker knew that once they reached the safety of the cavern they could retreat to the underground stream and seal the trapdoor above them. In the darkness of the mountain, it would be almost impossible for the birds to remove the slab of stone and pursue them into the secret passage – the same passage, Whisker was reminded, that Horace and the prisoners had taken. Thinking further, he realised it was vital he reached the trapdoor before the hawks. The safety of the captives depended on it.

  Whisker felt the THRUMP, THRUMP of Chatterbeak’s heart pounding rapidly above him. Yellow and blue wings rose up and down, powering the parrot on. Between the mighty wing beats, Whisker glimpsed an army of red-tailed hawks hurtling through the clouds, their sharp eyes locked on the solitary bird. The line of hawks spanned the entire width of the Erratic Blocks, stretching all the way from the buttress to Blackbird Wood like a red brick wall.

  THRUMP, THRUMP, THRUMP. Chatterbeak’s heart beat even faster, his steady strokes never wavering.

  ‘Is this all you’ve got, Chatterbeak?’ Ruby shouted as the hawks continued to gain ground. ‘Put some muscle into it and show those hawks who really rules the skies!’

  Ruby’s challenge seemed to awaken the competitor in Chatterbeak. He soaked up her words like they were fuel. With a sudden burst of energy, he propelled himself forward, flapping his wings at an unparalleled pace.

  ‘Catch me if you can!’ he squawked defiantly.

  Whisker felt the world rush past him in a blur. He had never imagined a parrot could fly so fast. One moment the jumbled rocks of the cavern were specks in the distance. The next moment they engulfed his entire vision.

  We’re going to make it, he thought.

  The hawks were still behind them, the lead birds inching closer with every wing stroke, but Chatterbeak’s desperate efforts had been enough to maintain his narrow lead.

  ‘Caw, caw. I expect a gold medal for this performance,’ he squawked, diving towards the cavern entrance.

  ‘My Pirate Cup medal is yours,’ Ruby shouted. ‘But first you have a landing to perfect.’

  Whisker’s eyes locked on the moonlit scene ahead. The tight entrance to the cavern was racing towards him and Chatterbeak was still hurtling forward with no sign of slowing down. It was inconceivable a bird of his size could glide through the narrow gap with his wings outstretched, and if the parrot chose to land on the ground with two rats in his claws, the impact would crush them like walnuts in a nut cracker.

  ‘Prepare to disembark,’ Chatterbeak squawked.

  Before Whisker had time to ready himself, he felt Chatterbeak’s talons release their grip on the Ghost Wings. A second later he was flying unaided towards the cavern with his wings awkwardly extended and Anna hanging on for dear life.

  Behind him, Chatterbeak fanned his wings to slow his momentum, but Whisker continued at a blistering pace. With the tattered material of the Ghost Wings peeling away like streamers, there was no way he could pull up short.

  ‘Jump!’ he yelled to Anna as the black mouth of the cavern rose before him like the open jaws of a crocodile.

  Anna leapt free, rolling into a deep patch of snow. Whisker’s body hurtled into the narrow gap. The tips of the Ghost Wings collided with the limestone walls, splintering on impact. The force of the collision tore the shoulder straps from the frame and Whisker was catapulted through the darkness. For a split second he was airborne, and then he was tumbling and twisting down snow-covered stairs, landing in a bruised heap in the centre of the cavern.

  Head spinning, he rose groggily to his feet and pulled his tail free from the wreck of the Ghost Wings. His thick winter clothes had padded some of his fall, but he still felt like he’d been stampeded by a bull. He heard footsteps on the stairs and immediately thought of his sister.

  ‘Anna?’ he coughed, unable to see anything in the darkness.

  ‘She’s with me,’ Ruby hissed, her voice drawing closer. ‘But we need to keep moving. The hawks are right behind us.’

  On cue, there was a sharp kee-arr from the entrance to the cavern.

  Anna let out a small gasp. Chatterbeak cooed fretfully.

  ‘There’s a lantern to the right of the trapdoor,’ Ruby whispered. ‘Pick it up when you reach the hole.’

  Whisker shuffled towards the trapdoor. He located the top step with the toe of his boot and then fumbled around for the lantern and a box of matches.

  He could hear the sound of hawks descending the stairs, the tips of their talons scraping over the stones. The unnerving sound sent a shudder through his tail. It was as if the birds were sharpening their claws on purpose.

  They intend to trap us down here, he realised in terror.

  The scraping continued and Whisker’s companions drew level with the trapdoor. Placing one paw on Chatterbeak’s
wing, Whisker directed the parrot into the hole, thrusting the handle of the lantern into his beak.

  Next came Anna, shivering and scared. Whisker felt the sleeves of her baggy coat brush against his leg and threw his arms around her trembling body. It pained him to see her in such a state and he wished he could magically whisk her away. But he knew that courage alone would have to see her through.

  ‘It’s nearly over, Anna,’ he said, trying to comfort her, ‘but I need you to be brave one last time. Can you do that for me?’

  ‘I-I –’ Anna began, her tiny voice quivering.

  ‘Go with Chatterbeak,’ Whisker instructed. ‘He’ll keep you safe. I promise.’

  ‘Wen –’ Anna cried.

  ‘I’ll be right behind you,’ Whisker said, struggling to tear himself away. He released Anna from his embrace and placed the matches into her paws. ‘Take these to Chatterbeak. He’s depending on you. Now hurry.’

  Anna hesitated for a moment. Then with a swish of her coat she disappeared down the hole.

  Ruby hobbled into the stairwell as the sound of the hawks grew closer.

  ‘Give me a paw with this trapdoor,’ she hissed.

  Whisker descended the first three steps and raised his paws above his head, quickly locating the edge of the stone trapdoor. A small section of the thin slab overhung the hole, providing just enough room for a fingertip grip.

  ‘We’ll only get one shot at this,’ he whispered as Anna’s padded footsteps merged with the gurgle of the stream. ‘Once the hawks hear the stone moving, we’ll have seconds before they find us.’

  ‘Then we’d better work fast,’ Ruby hissed. ‘We go on one. Ready? ONE!’

  Gripping the stone with both paws, Whisker heaved. At once the trapdoor began to move. It slid across the floor with a grating, shuddering SCREECH, sending vibrations running through the entire cavern.

  Spurred into action by the sudden noise, the hawks descended in their droves. They blindly scratched at the moving slab with their claws, squawking loudly and probing their beaks into the narrowing gap.