Child of the Cloud Read online

  The treacherous path was seldom travelled by foot, and journeys rarely took place outside the warmer summer months. Although the path appeared deserted, Whisker noticed deep footprints in several muddy sections of the track, signalling heavy traffic in recent days.

  Strange for this time of year, he mused.

  As the morning wore on, the temperature dropped and an icy wind began howling through the canyon. The companions snuggled into their winter coats and tightened their scarves to ward off the chill. High above them, the snowy peaks of the mountains filled the space between the cliff tops and the sky. The blanket of clouds had finally dispersed and a vivid stretch of blue now adorned the heavens.

  After travelling constantly for many hours, the companions stopped to give Chatterbeak a much-needed break. For a tropical parrot, he was handling the frigid temperatures surprisingly well and seemed to have formed a strong bond with Horace. The smallest rat of the team had been carried in Chatterbeak’s claws while the others rode above. Whisker guessed their growing friendship was largely attributed to the bag of nuts Horace had acquired from the school canteen, and which he had generously fed to Chatterbeak as they flew.

  No one wandered far during the break. Although Ruby wouldn’t admit it, her ankle hadn’t improved since her fall and she was forced to use the longbow as a walking stick. She had barely hobbled three paces to the water’s edge for a drink before Whisker had to grab her coat to stop her from falling in.

  When the travellers finally resumed their journey, fluffy white cumulus clouds dotted the sky above them, growing larger as the day wore on.

  Moving higher into the mountains, they glided over a solitary swing bridge which forded the river at its narrowest point. Struck by the strange colour variations in the foot planks, Whisker took out his spyglass for a closer look. The weathered grey tones of the original oak palings were interspersed by the warm cream colours of newer pine planks – roughly cut and fastened with thick ropes. Whisker suspected that a rushed repair job had recently been undertaken on damaged and weakened sections of the bridge.

  Further north, the cliffs surrounding the river turned to rocky slopes and the slopes transformed into gentle banks covered with alpine grass and Edelweiss flowers. The woolly white petals of the late-season blooms dotted the surrounding hills like patches of snow.

  As the countryside opened up, so did the river. It grew wider and shallower as it neared its point of origin, the majestic snow-fed Lake Azure at the base of Cloud Mountain.

  Rounding a bend in the river, Whisker caught his first glimpse of the brilliant blue lake, sparkling like a sapphire in the mid-afternoon sunshine. In the same breathtaking moment, he saw the summit of the mountain rising high above the clouds like a terrifying white fang.

  Beauty and terror forged as one, he thought, staring up at the snow-capped peak.

  Cloud Mountain was taller and wider than he could have ever imagined. Sprawling conifer forests covered its lower slopes, extending upwards from the northern shores of the lake to the mighty ice glacier. Partly obscured by a band of cloud, the glacier snaked up the mountainside, disappearing into a steep cleft of rock known as the chimney. A stream of melted ice and snow ran from the face of the glacier to the shore of the lake far below.

  Even half-shrouded in clouds, the mountain was a truly imposing sight. It towered above the landscape like a giant, making the surrounding peaks look like snowy foothills. Whisker came to the sudden realisation that locating his sister in such a vast wilderness would be far more challenging than he had first anticipated.

  His thoughts were broken by a violent jolting motion. In front of him, Cloud Mountain appeared to be tipping onto its side. Beneath him, Chatterbeak was diving hard to his left, rapidly losing altitude.

  ‘Skraww, skraww,’ the parrot burst out. ‘Hold on tight! We’ve got company!’

  Whisker dug his paws into Chatterbeak’s feathers, trying to steady himself. Behind him, Ruby threw her arms around his waist, struggling to remain seated.

  ‘This is certainly a cosy way to crash land!’ she gasped.

  ‘I’ve got you,’ Whisker said, wrapping his tail around her coat. ‘Now don’t let go!’

  Jail Birds

  Chatterbeak was moving too fast for Whisker to see what was pursuing him, but his destination appeared to be a small hill to the west of the river. Crumbling slabs of bluestone and waxy alpine shrubs covered its rounded crest. The frantic parrot swooped towards the largest rock and his passengers leapt clear.

  ‘Into the shadows,’ he whistled.

  Without hesitation, Horace scampered over to the eastern edge of the rock and flattened himself against the cool stone. Ruby took one step on her injured foot and stifled a cry. Cursing under her breath, she threw her arm around Whisker’s neck and the two of them hobbled towards Horace. When they reached him, they collapsed on the ground.

  Chatterbeak arched his wings over their bodies so only the blue of his upper feathers was visible from the sky – the shadowy tones blending in with the bluestone of the hill.

  Then they waited.

  A minute passed, followed by another.

  Whisker lay motionless, staring up at the yellow underside of Chatterbeak’s wings, trying to control his breathing. Through the gaps in the outer feathers, Whisker glimpsed a speck of reddish-brown flying high overhead.

  A red-tailed hawk, he guessed as a high-pitched kee-eeeee-arr filled the air.

  The bird’s call was answered by a second hawk, flying east of the river. The first bird responded by screeching loudly as it circled the hill. The calls continued back and forth for some time as the hawks scanned the terrain for movement. Finding nothing, they widened their search to the surrounding hills.

  The sounds of the birds grew fainter, eventually fading to silence. Only then did Chatterbeak begin to stir. Keeping a watchful eye on the sky, he tucked in his wings and let out a soft ‘coo.’

  Whisker slowly sat up.

  ‘That was close,’ he said, acknowledging the efforts of the quick-thinking parrot. ‘You certainly know how to blend in with your surrounds, Chatterbeak.’

  ‘Even if the descent was a little on the shaky side,’ Ruby added quietly.

  Chatterbeak cooed again and began pecking at the snoring body of Horace.

  ‘What a time to fall asleep,’ Ruby muttered, giving him a firm jab with her good foot.

  ‘Stop it, both of you!’ Horace said groggily. ‘No sleep for two days and I can’t take an afternoon siesta without being harassed.’

  ‘Not when you snore like an elephant,’ Ruby jeered. ‘If hawks could hear as well as they see, you’d be a half-digested entrée right now –’

  ‘Shh,’ Whisker hissed, gesturing towards the neighbouring valley. ‘The hawks are still out there and they appear to be circling something.’

  He removed the spyglass from his bag and shuffled to the northern edge of the rock. Horace and Chatterbeak scampered after him. Using her longbow as a walking stick, Ruby followed her companions and silently peered over the edge.

  Set back from the lakeside village of Hawk’s View and separated by a small forest of pine trees was a mighty stone structure. It was constructed from thick slabs of bluestone, similar to the rocks found on the hill. Four outer walls surrounded a huge square courtyard where dormitory-style buildings ran in evenly-spaced rows. The corner of each wall was surmounted by a round watchtower. Resembling a fortified castle, the compound’s purpose was clearly not to keep attackers out, but to keep them in.

  ‘Now that’s one whopping big prison!’ Horace gasped, pointing to the huge iron entrance gates with his hook.

  ‘Complete with its own jail birds,’ Ruby said, watching a dozen red-tailed hawks circling the towers. ‘What better way to keep tabs on the prisoners than with the sharpest eyes in the sky.’

  ‘There are tracker dogs, too,’ Whisker said, staring through the spyglass. ‘Norwegian Elkhounds, I think. And I can see snow monkeys patrolling the battlements with cros
sbows and spears.’

  ‘I somehow doubt we’ll be calling in for afternoon tea,’ Horace murmured. He looked across at Whisker and added, ‘You don’t think your sister is being held in there?’

  Whisker shook his head. ‘No, it’s a government facility. I can tell by Governor Cazban’s banana crest on the flags. The hawks must be working as mercenaries.’

  ‘Perhaps they’re entitled to hunt any prisoners who escape,’ Horace said in horror.

  ‘Who knows …?’ Whisker thought. He trained his spyglass on a row of buildings in the centre of the courtyard. A line of prisoners were being paraded into the sunlight. Even from a distance, Whisker recognised several of their faces immediately. There were two possums from Sea Shanty Island and a gerbil with a missing ear. The gerbil had been arrested with a government compass during Whisker’s visit to the Captain’s Inn.

  The Sea Shanty Island raids, Whisker thought, recalling what Madam Pearl had told him about the summer arrests. It seemed almost ludicrous that a scrawny little gerbil would end up in a maximum security prison, miles from the ocean, for nothing more than a petty theft.

  Unless the crime itself wasn’t important, he considered. But then what?

  Unable to make sense of it all, Whisker handed the spyglass to Horace.

  ‘Here,’ he whispered. ‘Tell me what you see.’

  Horace gripped the spyglass with his hook and peered through the lens.

  ‘Shiver me prisoners!’ he exclaimed. ‘There’s an entire ocean of pirates down there and half a sea of sailors!’

  ‘Show me,’ Ruby said, snatching the spyglass out of his hook. She focused on a second row of buildings and gasped. ‘Woh! Seven-legged Sven and his spidery crew are right in the thick of it – cobwebs and all. The Blue Claw must have moved them to the mountains after we torched Prison Island –’

  ‘– along with every other pirate, pickpocket and scallywag this side of the equator,’ Horace added, wrenching the spyglass back from Ruby. ‘I’m no mathematician, but those dormitories look big enough to hold the entire prison population of Aladrya – and then some! Whoever said there was a shortage of prison beds clearly had their facts wrong.’

  Whisker looked back in the direction of the river.

  ‘The prisoners must have travelled in chains through Eagle’s Pass,’ he said, remembering the deep footprints along the track. ‘The recent repair work on the bridge would have been required to support the extra weight.’

  ‘Yes, well, you’re the engineer,’ Horace shrugged, handing the spyglass back to Whisker. ‘I’m just thankful we’re not part of the chain gang.’

  Quietly, he crept back into the shadows.

  ‘No cell. No surrender,’ Chatterbeak prattled, bouncing after him.

  Whisker lingered near the edge of the rock, with Ruby clutching his arm to support her ankle. He waited until the others were out of earshot and whispered, ‘I’ve been meaning to tell you something, Ruby.’

  Ruby looked across at him inquisitively. ‘What?’

  ‘I saw Madam Pearl,’ he continued in a low voice.

  ‘Where?’ Ruby gasped. ‘In the prison?’

  ‘No,’ Whisker said, gesturing for her to keep her voice down, ‘with Mr Tribble in Oakbridge.’

  ‘Oakbridge?’ Ruby said in surprise.

  ‘Yes,’ Whisker said. ‘She escaped to the school cottage after General Thunderclaw stormed her safe house in Applesworth.’

  ‘Is she alright?’ Ruby asked, trying to sound concerned.

  Whisker knew the two of them had never been friends, but appreciated the effort Ruby was making.

  ‘She’s fine,’ he said, moving on quickly. ‘Madam Pearl believes there’s some kind of secret naval operation going on.’

  ‘Sounds familiar,’ Ruby whispered. ‘My uncle had a similar theory about the Blue Claw – all those ambushes and blockades …’

  ‘I know,’ Whisker said. ‘And according to Madam Pearl, I’m right in the middle of it. The details are a bit sketchy, but I have a feeling it has something to do with the prisoners in that fortress.’

  Ruby looked him straight in the eye.

  ‘Pick your battles carefully,’ she warned. ‘We came to the mountains to rescue your sister, not to uncover a prison conspiracy.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Whisker sighed, returning the spyglass to his bag. ‘Anna comes first. I just wish I didn’t have all this other stuff going on inside my head.’ He gave her a weary smile. ‘You know what it’s like.’

  Ruby squeezed his arm. ‘Let me guess. If there’s a problem, you have to fix it. If there’s a mystery, you have to solve it.’

  Whisker nodded. ‘And the list keeps getting longer.’

  ‘Look,’ Ruby said, ‘I’m not one for dishing out advice, but I heard something once that seems kind of relevant. I think it came from a sword fighting guru. It went something like: focus on the mountain and the mountain alone and the rest will slip away …’

  ‘Deep,’ Whisker said. ‘Anyone would think you were the sensible one of the team.’

  Ruby punched him lightly. ‘Focus, remember?’

  ‘Alright,’ Whisker said, reaching inside his coat pocket. ‘We’ll start with what we know about the mountain.’ He pulled out Mr Tribble’s crumpled scroll. ‘AHCM – Aladrya Highlands Cloud Mountain …’

  Mr Tribble’s map of the mountain was, in a word, disappointing. Apart from a few neatly-written place names, it did little to add to Whisker’s understanding of the terrain. Although Whisker had been warned that the location of the full moon feast was a mystery, he still felt slightly cheated when the map disclosed nothing.

  He wished he had the Book of Knowledge with him, though its sheer weight and size had made it impossible to bring on their quest. Its detailed maps, historic accounts and geographical descriptions had provided fact after fact during the Pirate Cup and he wondered what it would reveal if he could look at it now.

  Would the location of the feast be recorded in a map? he asked himself. Could its secret knowledge help rescue Anna?

  Without the answers he sought, Whisker had to rely on what he had: a basic map of the mountain and some vague advice from Mr Tribble about the boulders above Blackbird Wood. Known as the Erratic Blocks, the rugged boulder region of the mountain seemed an unlikely place to celebrate a grand feast but, with no other leads, Whisker accepted it as their starting point.

  ‘So where are those nasty birds hiding out?’ Horace interrupted, sticking his nose over Whisker’s shoulder.

  ‘Who knows?’ Whisker said despondently. ‘Mr Tribble said their nesting territories would be clearly marked – though some interpretation appears to be required.’

  ‘Caw, caw, out of the way!’ Chatterbeak squawked, squeezing his wings between the rats. ‘Expert ornithologist coming through!’

  Horace looked at Whisker blankly. ‘Orni what?’

  ‘Ornithologist,’ Whisker said, stepping aside for the excited parrot, ‘It means he’s an expert in birds.’

  ‘I certainly hope so,’ Horace said. ‘He is a bird.’

  Chatterbeak took a moment to study the map and then prattled, ‘Yes, yes. Just as I thought. The answers are all in the place names.’ He swept his wing over the left half of the map. ‘Listen carefully. The peregrine falcons nest on Falcon Island in the centre of Lake Azure. On the southern side of the mountain is Red Tail Rocks, home to – you guessed it – the red-tailed hawk. Ravens are, of course, blackbirds, so it’s no surprise to find them living in Blackbird Wood.’ He pointed to the far right of the mountain. ‘And that leaves us with Eagle’s Cliffs, home to none other than the mighty golden eagle.’ He shook his tail feathers proudly. ‘Skraww, skraww, here ends the lesson. Any questions?’

  ‘I’ve got one,’ Whisker said, hoping the bird-brained know-it-all had the entire rescue mission figured out. ‘How do we get past Falcon Island on our way to the mountain?’

  ‘Ooooeee!’ Chatterbeak trilled, quickly losing his confidence. ‘We can’t fly, that�
�s for certain. Peregrine falcons are the fastest birds in the world. They’d spot us the moment we reached the lake and hunt us down before we were halfway to the other side. It’s no secret they have an appetite for birds and a craving for small rodents.’

  ‘What an unfortunate diet,’ Horace muttered. ‘For all of us.’

  Ruby pointed to the right side of the map. ‘Is it possible to fly around the lake and approach the Erratic Blocks from the north-east?’

  Chatterbeak shook his green-feathered forehead. ‘No, no, out of the question. That would take us too close to eagle territory – and believe me, golden eagles make peregrine falcons look like playful budgerigars!’

  ‘Rotten pies to the lot of them!’ Horace snorted.

  Chatterbeak tapped the location of Blackbird Wood with his claw. ‘While you’re at it, you’d better add ravens to your rotten pie, Master Horace. They’re more scavengers than birds of prey, but they’re cunning and crafty and have a devious habit of imitating other animals.’ He shook his feathers in disgust. ‘Skraww, skraww. It’s a disgrace to the entire bird community. A raven should sound like a raven, not an oinking pig! On saying that, Blackbird Wood could be bypassed altogether by following the glacial stream up the mountain.’

  ‘Yeah, but that means approaching the mountain from the south,’ Horace said, dragging his hook across the map. ‘Which in turn means flying past Falcon Island. Which in turn means being eaten for dinner! No thank you.’

  ‘The lake could still be an option,’ Whisker considered, pointing to a small jetty outside Hawk’s View. ‘I saw plenty of boats down by the shore, and we could easy disguise ourselves as a local fishing crew.’

  ‘Sailing boats and silly coats,’ Ruby chuckled, warming to the idea. ‘A classic Pie Rat plan.’

  ‘You’re forgetting one thing,’ Horace frowned, ‘we left our entire stash of Pirate Cup gold with the Captain and he won’t reach the lake for another three or four days. Whisker’s single coin will be lucky to buy us a leaky dinghy, let alone a proper sailboat. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve stolen my fair share of boats in the past, but with a colossal prison looming over my head, I’d prefer to take the saintly path.’