The Last of the Sky Pirates (38 page)

‘Not quite,’ said Rook. ‘There’s a twist in the tale.’

‘Go
on,’ said Twig.

‘Well, Vox didn’t realize what a monster he’d created when he established the Guardians of Night. Soon a leader emerged from their ranks, one Orbix Xaxis, who declared himself the Most High Guardian and took over the Tower of Night. Fearing for his life, Vox fled to an old palace in Undertown. The shrykes seized the opportunity to take full control of the Great Mire Road, and Vox was forced to rely on goblin mercenaries to hold on to what little power he had left in Undertown. These days, if the rumours are true, he spends his entire time alone in his dilapidated palace, too obese to leave his bed-chamber, drinking himself into a stupor each night with bottle after bottle of Oblivion.’

‘Well, I, for one, am not in the least sorry for him,’ said Twig. ‘But tell me, Rook, what more do you know of this Tower of Night in which Cowlquape is held captive?’

Rook sighed. ‘I know this much: they say no-one ever escapes from the Tower of Night. It is a vast, impenetrable fortress, with spiked gates and barred windows, rock-slings and harpoons, and great swivel catapults mounted on every jutting gantry. I’ve only seen it once myself, and that was from a distance, but I’ve heard stories from librarian knights who have seen it close up. Once, the great Varis Lodd even attacked it with a fleet of skycraft – but they proved no match for the tower’s weapons.’

‘Skycraft?’ Twig said. ‘Those little wooden things? I saw them at Lake Landing. No wonder they failed. Why, it’d be like woodmoths attacking a hammelhorn!’

‘Armed guards patrol every corner of the tower,’ Rook continued without a breath, ‘each one trained to kill first and ask questions afterwards. The Tower of Night is impregnable. To attack it from the ground, you’d have to go through Screetown.’ He shuddered. ‘They say it’s inhabited by strange, glistening creatures that constantly change their shape – rubble ghouls, they’re called. And rock demons … And if you survived all that, there’s the Sanctaphrax Forest – a mass of timber scaffolding that holds the rock up. It’s infested with rotsuckers and razorflits, terrible creatures by all accounts. No, the only way to attack the tower is by air and, as you say, a skycraft is just too small—’

‘But a sky ship isn’t,’ said Twig.

‘A sky ship,’ Rook breathed. All around them, the banderbears listened closely.

‘Oh, Rook, lad,’ said Twig, ‘it would be like the old days when I sailed with my father, Cloud Wolf, on raids against those great over-stuffed league ships. The trick was to go in hard and fast, I remember, and be off again with whatever loot they had stashed away before they knew what had hit them. And that’s what we shall do, Rook – in the
Skyraider
!’

‘The
Skyraider
?’ said Rook. ‘But, Twig, we don’t have a crew.’

Just then there was flurry of movement behind them, and Rook turned to see the great female from the Foundry Glade, Wuralo, stepping forward. ‘Wuh-wurra Tw-uh-ug-wuh,’ she said, and raised a great paw to her chest.
I shall go with you, Captain Twig, friend of banderbears
.

Twig leaned forwards and clapped the great beast on the shoulders. ‘Wuh-wuh,’ he said, and swept his hand round in a languid arc.
Welcome! Friend!

A second banderbear – a huge male with a deep scar in his shoulder – stepped up beside her. ‘Wuh. Weega. Wuh-wuh.’
I, Weeg, shall also go with you
. ‘Wurra-wuh!’ He pointed to the skies, touched his scar and raised his head.
I served upon a sky pirate ship long ago, in the old days of which you speak
.

‘Wuh-weelaru-waag!’ boomed the giant black bander-bear.
I know nothing of flight, but I am strong! They call me Rummel: he who is stronger than ironwood
.

Rummel was immediately joined by three others:

Meeru and Loom – twin males who had once tended timber barges – and Molleen, a wiry old female who’d worked long ago as an assistant to a stone pilot. Her lopsided grin revealed several missing teeth and only one chipped tusk.

‘Wuh-leela, wuh-rulawah,’ she yodelled softly.
I can tend your flight-rock, Captain Twig, if you’ll have an old bag of bones like me
.

‘Wuh-wuh,’ said Twig.
Welcome, Molleen. She who is a friend of stone
. He took a step backwards, and raised his arms. ‘Thank you, friends,’ he said. ‘From the bottom of my heart, I thank you all. But we have enough volunteers.’ He turned to Rook. ‘I think we’ve found our crew.’

‘Wuh-wuh!’ came an insistent voice, and Rook turned to see Wumeru forcing her way through the crowd of banderbears.
Take me! Take me!

Twig smiled. ‘And what experience of skysailing could you possibly have, my young friend?’

‘Wuh,’ said Wumeru, her great head hanging low.
None. But my youth is my strength. I am powerful and eager …

‘Thank you, young friend,’ Twig began, ‘but as I said before, we now have enough volunteers—’

‘Wuh …’ Wumeru faltered. She looked at Rook forlornly, imploringly. ‘Wuh …’

Rook turned to Twig. ‘We’ll need a ship’s cook,’ he said. ‘And Wumeru is an excellent forager, I can vouch for that.’

‘Wumeru?’ said Twig. ‘You know each other?’

Rook nodded. ‘We are friends,’ he said.

Twig’s face crinkled into a warm smile. ‘Friendship with a banderbear is the greatest friendship there is,’ he said, pulling a pendant – a discoloured banderbear tooth with a hole through its centre – from inside his hammelhornskin waistcoat, and looking at it thoughtfully for a moment. ‘
I
know.’ He turned to Wumeru. ‘Welcome aboard,’ he said. ‘But I give you due warning. If you should ever serve up pickled tripweed, I shall have you sky-fired!’

Just then the rising sun broke through the high ridge of trees surrounding the valley and shone down brightly on the small group of waiting banderbears. Twig raised his head. ‘Come, then, my brave crew,’ he announced. ‘Let us delay no longer. The
Skyraider
awaits us in the Edgelands.’

A roar of approval resounded all round the Valley of a
Thousand Echoes, and the cheering assembly of bander-bears stepped aside to let Twig, Rook and the seven volunteers pass between them.

‘Cowlquape, my young friend,’ Twig muttered under his breath, ‘I have lived too long with failure. This is one quest that will not fail!’

They made excellent progress through the Deepwoods. Never resting up for longer than an hour at a time, they travelled by both day and night, orientating themselves by the sun and the East Star as they headed north – always north – through the deep, dark forest and on towards the treacherous Edgelands.

Back in the saddle of the
Stormhornet
, Rook flitted through the trees above Twig and the banderbears as the group pressed on. The great creatures were speeding through the forest silently and swiftly. And unlike Wumeru who, as if in a trance when she was answering the call to the Great Convocation, had battered her way through the undergrowth leaving a trail of destruction behind her, the banderbears left not a single sign of their passing. Rook could only marvel at their agility, their deftness, their stealth.

It struck him as strange that banderbears were such solitary creatures, for together they worked so
cohesively and well. They each took it in turn to lead, falling back to be replaced by another when they tired; each kept an ear open and an eye out for any potential danger. Intrigued, Rook approached Wumeru during one of the short breaks they took to forage and take their bearings.

‘Why
do
you live apart from one another?’ he asked. ‘You should form tribes. Work together. You’re good at it!’

Wumeru looked up, ears fluttering wildly. ‘Wuh-wuh. Wurra-waloo.’ She slashed her paw through the air and tossed her head.
You are wrong. Banderbears can never live together. Together, we invite the fiercest predators. Alone, we can live longer, for we attract less attention
. She looked about her and smiled, her tusks glinting. ‘Weeru-wuh!’
Though to be in a band like this, I almost wouldn’t mind dying sooner
.

‘Wug-wulla-wuh,’ said Twig, approaching, his arms spread wide.
Don’t speak of death, young Wumeru – though I am honoured to be facing it with you at my side
.

There was a rustle in the undergrowth and the huge figure of Rummel emerged, his arms full of branches of hyleberries. ‘Wuh-wuh!’ he grunted.
Quick, eat, for we must keep moving
.

They continued through the forest, Rook scouting ahead on the
Stormhornet
until, with a tug of the pinner-rope, he would twist elegantly round in the air and fly back the way he’d come, checking every inch along the strung-out line of banderbears. Weeg was currently leading the group, the great scar on his shoulder glinting in the half light. Meeru and Loom, walking side by side, followed some way behind. Shortly after them came Wuralo, her mottled shoulders hunched, and after her, the massive Rummel, with his strange, loping gait. There was then a long gap before Rook came to Wumeru who, though young, seemed to have less stamina than the others. Finally, after another long gap, he came to the stragglers: Molleen, who was older and slower than the rest, and Twig himself.

As Rook swooped down, the old sky pirate captain waved to him. Rook waved back, proud of the great captain’s acknowledgement. And as he soared back into the air, he heard Twig murmuring words of encouragement to Molleen.

Not long now, old-timer. The flight-rock awaits your expert touch
.

Darkness fell, but the banderbears – with Rook still up in the air above them – kept resolutely on. Through the night they journeyed, never easing up on their relentless pace, never making the slightest sound. The moon rose,
crossed the sky and set far to their left. The sun came up, heating the damp, spongy earth and sending wisps of mist coiling up into the bright, glittering air.

All at once there came a yodelled cry from up ahead. It was Wuralo, now at the front of the line.
The Edgelands! We have reached the Edgelands!

Twig yodelled back.
Wait for us. We’ll soon be with you
.