The Island of Destiny (18 page)

Emmie clapped her paws together in excitement. Eaton looked his usual nervous self but with an extra dose of jitters.

Mr Tribble handed the children a sheet of paper and several pencil stubs. He opened his notebook and flicked to the page of symbols. Madam Pearl held the key in front of the lantern and Emmie copied down the first symbol, while Eaton squirmed uncomfortably in his chair.

‘C-can I have my own sheet of paper, please?' he asked timidly. ‘Emmie always hogs the pencils.'

‘Do not,' Emmie squeaked, hogging the pencils.

Mr Tribble sighed and handed Eaton a blank sheet of paper.

Pete gave Eaton a purple pencil stub and whispered, ‘It's always good to have a backup, young mouse. Sooner or later, some clumsy buffoon will go and lose the original.' He looked directly at Whisker and smirked.

Whisker smiled back politely. There was no point arguing. He'd lost the key and the map on more than one occasion. Fortunately for Whisker, he was rather adept at getting them back.

The children raced to be the first mouse finished, carefully matching each symbol from the key with its interpretation from the notebook.

‘Me money's on the wee lad ‘ere,' Rat Bait chuckled. ‘He's got a fierce look ‘o determination in his eye.'

‘But Emmie's quicker with her paw-writing,' Horace argued.

In the end it was a dead heat. Thanks to Mr Tribble's thorough recording skills, the mice managed to find an interpretation for every symbol.

‘Our first task is to locate a line of three rocks,' the Captain said, summing up their discoveries. ‘The chevron would indicate there's something under the rock on the left.'

‘A lever, perhaps?' Mr Tribble suggested, pointing to the first symbol on the shaft of the key. ‘Something that requires an anti-clockwise turn.'

‘The rest of the directions appear straightforward enough,' the Captain continued. ‘Left, up, through, right, over, etcetera, etcetera … a clockwise turn and we're there.'

‘So when do we leave?' Ruby asked, tapping her nails on the table.

Pete screwed up his nose. ‘Not until that cursed Cat Fish crew have sailed off into the sunset. They'll be waiting to ambush us for sure.'

The Hermit shook his head. ‘Quartermaster Pete has nothing to worry about, no, no. Cat Fish will be too busy bailing water from
Sinking Sardine
.'

‘
Sinking Sardine?
' Horace echoed.

‘Yes, yes,' the Hermit chuckled. ‘Hermit visited
Sinking Sardine
earlier this evening. Diving gear exceptional. Kitchen can-opener outstanding. Tomorrow, Cat Fish will wake to find
Sinking Sardine
submerged in lagoon.'

‘A splendid piece of news,' the Captain laughed heartily. ‘We'll leave at first light.' He grew serious and eyed his crew. ‘An expedition of this nature requires plenty of weapons and plenty of supplies. I expect all crew members to be fully prepared. There's not a moment to lose.'

‘Aye, aye, Captain,' chanted the crew.

The Captain strode from the room, stopping momentarily under the doorway. Smudge was busily sucking pesto from the wall.

‘And for Ratbeard's sake,' the Captain groaned, ‘will someone clean up this ghastly green goop before it attracts an entire island of insects?'

Whisker knew someone meant the rat responsible for the mess. He begrudgingly raised his paw to volunteer.

Emmie tugged on his shirt.

‘You'll need a qualified hygiene officer to supervise,' she squeaked.

‘Thanks, Emmie,' Whisker said gratefully. ‘You assess the damage and I'll get the scrubbing brushes.'

While Whisker fetched a large pot of water and two scrubbing brushes from the galley, the crew dispersed to prepare for the adventure.

Whisker returned to find Emmie wiping pesto from Pete's pencils and Eaton staring at the key.

‘Come to lend a paw, Eaton?' Whisker asked.

Eaton gave Whisker a horrified look and dashed from the room, clutching a pile of crumpled paper in one paw and his lantern in the other.

‘That's Eaton's attempt at cleaning up,' Emmie squeaked. ‘He'll never make a good hygiene officer.'

Lighthouses

It took several hours for Whisker and Emmie to clean the oily green stains from the walls. From time to time another member of the crew would pass through the mess room on their way to the pantry. Whisker wondered how much food the expedition actually required.

‘You can never have too many snacks if you're stuck in a mountain,' Horace said on his third trip past. ‘Besides, not all of this is for eating.'

He held up two rubber sauce bottles.

‘Hot chilli sauce shooters,' he boasted. ‘I picked them from the retirement resort gift shop. They came filled with tomato sauce, but I added the hot chillies for an extra kick. They're equipped with non-clog nozzles and rapid-fire squeezable sides.' He lowered the bright red bottles to his hips like a gunslinger. ‘I can give you a demonstration if you like? See that white wall over there …'

‘Err, that's ok, Horace,' Whisker said uneasily. ‘I'd prefer it if one wall stayed white.'

Horace let out a long sigh of disappointment and was nearly knocked over by Ruby, bursting into the mess room. Horace, in turn, pretended to squirt her with his sauce shooters. She ignored his antics and opened her paw to reveal a crumpled scarlet eye patch.

Horace's jaw dropped wide open.

‘Rotten pies!' he gasped. ‘How could we be so blind?'

Whisker's tail collapsed into the pot of green cleaning water.

‘But that means …'

‘Aye,' Ruby said coldly. ‘In all the excitement, we overlooked one crucial fact: Mr Tribble may be innocent, but there's still a thief onboard and they know exactly where the treasure is.'

‘Rotten pies with mouldy pastry!' Horace cried.

He glanced down at the table. The Forgotten Map lay next to the King's Key and Emmie's drawing of the symbols.

‘Phew,' he sighed, calming down. ‘At least they don't have the map and the key.'

Whisker didn't share his relief.

‘Take another look,' he said, grimly. ‘Eaton's page of symbols and Pete's tracing are gone.'

‘Rotten pies with mouldy pastry and curdled cream!' Horace gasped.

‘Speaking of Eaton,' Ruby said in a panic, ‘where is the little mouse?'

Emmie looked up from her scrubbing brush.

‘I haven't seen him for hours,' she replied with a shrug. ‘But he could be on the deck with his lantern. He's often up there at night playing his little game of lanterns and lighthouses. I'm not sure of the rules – he never lets me join in.'

The blood drained from Whisker's soggy tail. Ruby stared at him in horror and let out an angry hiss.

‘What?' Horace cried, clearly missing something.

Before Whisker could relay his grave fears, Mr Tribble strode into the room, clutching an empty bottle of lantern oil.

‘Has anyone seen …?' He cut himself short when he saw the sea of worried faces.

‘Oh my,' he gasped. ‘Is something wrong?'

‘Yes,' Ruby said bluntly. ‘We have a situation.'

‘W-what kind of situation?' Mr Tribble murmured.

‘A spy situation,' Ruby replied.

‘But who?' he whispered, turning pale.

Ruby looked at Whisker for a tactful answer.

Whisker took a deep breath.
No more false accusations,
he told himself.
You have to be certain.

‘Mr Tribble,' he said with an air of urgency, ‘tell us everything you know about Eaton's lantern.'

‘Eaton's lantern?' Mr Tribble gasped. ‘You're not suggesting … surely not? Eaton's just a boy.'

Emmie rushed forward and buried her head in his chest, tears filling her small eyes. Mr Tribble put a comforting arm around her.

‘I'm not suggesting anything,' Whisker said calmly. ‘I'm just looking for facts.'

Mr Tribble stared at him for a long time and then hesitantly nodded. ‘Alright, I'll tell you what I know. As I'm sure you're already aware, Whisker, the lantern was purchased from Salamander's Splendid Supplies on Sea Shanty Island on the night you escaped from the Cat Fish. Earlier that evening, the Captain gave Fred enough money to buy the children each a small gift – following our unfortunate boat disaster. At the time of entering the supply store, Emmie wanted a box of candy canes and Eaton had his heart set on a survival knot handbook. By the time the rest of the Pie Rats arrived looking for Sabre, Eaton had changed his mind to a lantern. He's always been afraid of the dark, so I thought nothing of it.'

‘We found Eaton in the lantern aisle when we entered the shop,' Horace added. ‘He was by himself and acting extremely jittery.'

‘There's no denying that Sabre and Master Meow entered and exited the shop while Fred and the mice were in there,' Whisker said. ‘I saw that from my hiding spot in the drain. The question is: what happened in between?'

‘I saw and heard nothing,' Mr Tribble said firmly. ‘None of us did. Emmie was upstairs with Fred and I presume Eaton was in the lantern aisle the entire time.'

‘What part of the store is the lantern aisle?' Whisker asked.

‘Ground floor, near the back door,' Ruby said. ‘The same door Sabre exited through.'

Mr Tribble put his head in his paws. The evidence was mounting.

Whisker continued his questioning. ‘Does Eaton know any signal codes – messages using short and long flashes of light?'

Mr Tribble lifted his head and nodded. ‘He's the best in his class.'

‘I'm guessing a mirrored lantern would be the obvious choice for long range signalling,' Whisker said. ‘The narrow beam would make it visible from miles away – like a lighthouse.'

‘Quite so,' Mr Tribble said, downcast. ‘Eaton's lantern would be perfect.'

‘Putrid pastries,' Horace muttered. ‘I feel sick in the gizzards. Eaton had oodles of opportunities to signal the Cat Fish. First Sea Shanty Island, then Prison Island … Shipwreck Sandbar … even the jungle citadel … It's no wonder they knew our every move.'

‘H-hold on a minute,' Mr Tribble quivered. ‘We don't know for certain it was Eaton. He could simply be watching the stars innocently from –'

‘– the deck?' Pete broke in.

Whisker turned to see the agitated quartermaster clomping into the room, followed by the rest of the crew. Pete held several strands of maroon thread between his fingers.

‘Recognise these, anyone?'

Emmie buried her nose further into Mr Tribble's chest.

‘Where did you get those?' Mr Tribble gasped.

‘At the end of the rope,' Pete said coldly. ‘The Hermit was hauling supplies onto the cliff top when he discovered a couple of stray fibres. We were naturally worried the Cat Fish had snuck aboard and took the liberty of searching the entire ship. Unless Eaton's hiding in the pantry, he's already on the island.'

Pete held the maroon strands against Emmie's school blazer.

‘A perfect colour match,' he remarked. ‘It seems our traitor was a snivelling mouse after all.'

‘How dare you!' Mr Tribble squeaked in anger.

Pete narrowed his pink albino eyes. ‘Eaton had the means …'

‘But his motive remains a mystery,' the Captain cut in. ‘Now is not the time for passing judgement, Pete. Is that understood?'

‘Aye, Captain,' Pete said reluctantly.

‘Our focus is to stop Eaton before he reaches the Cat Fish,' the Captain went on. ‘Failing that, our priority will be to rescue him and bring him back alive. Regardless of Eaton's intentions, he is still an honorary member of our crew and under my direct protection.'

He scanned the eyes of his crew. ‘We'll split into three groups and search the island. Each group will be led by a rat familiar with the landscape. I'll lead the first group of Pete, Fred, Horace and Smudge to the camp on the beach. It's the most likely place Eaton will be headed, but also the most dangerous.'