The King's Key
however, carried an extra sail. The Pie Rats worked hard to maintain their speed but it wasn’t long before the Cat Fish began gaining ground.
    The specks of distant ships appeared on the horizon and the Captain handed Whisker the telescope, with a mumble of ‘Now what?’
    Whisker raised the telescope to his eye and peered through. His vision filled with the ominous shapes of warships, curving in a wide arc across the sea. He turned the telescope to the Silver Sardine . Six cats stood on the deck, slicing cheese knives through the air in readiness.
    Whisker gulped in terror. On an empty stomach, and with very little sleep, the prospect of arrest was far easier to swallow than a mid-sea massacre. As his trembling paws lowered the telescope, he felt his mind retreating into the calm world of his memories.
    He closed his eyes. Distant recollections floated in and out of his mind as he searched for an answer: What should I do? He’d first experienced this strange phenomenon when he was sinking in the Cyclone Sea. His memories had found him an answer and the answer had saved his life.
    Whisker focused his thoughts. Past memories turned to recent events. Images became clearer …
    He was on the Apple Pie . A waterlogged mouse wearing thick glasses climbed aboard. In his paws he clutched a pile of precious books wrapped up in a school flag …
    Whisker opened his eyes. The Cat Fish showed no signs of altering their course.
    â€˜Good,’ he mumbled. ‘Sometimes it pays to have enemies.’
    â€˜What’s that?’ the Captain asked expectantly.
    A mischievous grin spread across Whisker’s face.
    â€˜Captain,’ he said, ‘how would you feel about giving the Apple Pie a little makeover?’
    The Captain flashed Whisker a puzzled expression. ‘Are you sure that’s not the perfume talking?’
    Whisker gave himself a quick sniff. The scent of roses and cherry blossoms filled his nose.
    â€˜N-no, Captain,’ he replied.
    â€˜Very well,’ the Captain sighed. ‘I don’t know what goes through that crazy circus head of yours, Whisker, but if it gets us out alive, get beautifying.’
    â€˜LISTEN UP CREW,’ the Captain bellowed across the deck. ‘Whisker has a plan. Do exactly what he asks – no questions. That means you, Horace.’
    â€˜Yeah, yeah,’ Horace muttered back. ‘I may be a chatterbox, but I do know when to keep my mouth sh …’
    â€˜ZIP IT!’ the Captain roared.
    Horace stuck his hook in his mouth and Whisker wasted no time in rattling off a peculiar list of requests.
    â€˜First, I need a spare set of sails – the brighter, the better; plus any ribbons, scarves or bunting you can find. Second, I require Pete’s collection of books to be stacked on the deck and all cannons and scissor swords hidden away. Third, I need Ruby and Horace to swap clothes with Emmie and Eaton. And finally, I need Mr Tribble’s school flag flying up there.’ He thrust his finger in the direction of the foremast.
    The crew stared back in bewilderment. Not even Horace dared to ask why?
    With two sharp claps from the Captain, the crew leapt into action. They swarmed below, raiding the cargo hold, closing cannon hatches and turning Pete’s cabin inside out. In minutes the deck was covered with flowing fabric and piles of books.
    Whisker surveyed the ship. In the centre of the deck, Ruby fossicked through a pile of spare sails. Nearby, Horace raised the Oakbridge school flag up the mast.
    â€˜I can barely move in this getup,’ Horace complained, unbuttoning Eaton’s school blazer with his hook.
    â€˜Try cutting back on the pies,’ Ruby muttered.
    â€˜That’s hardly fair,’ Horace whined. ‘I’ve already missed breakfast.’
    Ruby held up a red and green sail.
    â€˜What about this one, Whisker?’ she asked. ‘It’s a giant tomato.’
    Whisker walked over for a

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