Stormchaser (26 page)

‘
NO
!’ screamed Twig. ‘You’re not my father. Not my
real
father.’ He gripped the gauntlet round the hilt of the sword and pulled it from its scabbard. ‘Leave me, whatever you are!’ he shouted, and began slashing frantically all round him.

The air crackled and curdled. The faces retreated. They jeered and gesticulated and poked out their tongues.

‘Stay awhile? I will not stay here!’ he cried out.

‘… stay here…’

‘Be gone, I say,’ roared Twig. ‘Be gone!’

‘… gone…’

And they were. Twig found himself staring into the troubled eyes of the Professor of Light. His gnarled fingers gripped him firmly by the shoulders.

‘Can you hear me, lad?’ he shouted. ‘Twig!’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I can hear you … Oh, Professor,’ he whimpered, ‘if I don’t leave the Twilight Woods soon, then I must surely stay here for ever.’ He tightened his gauntleted grip on the sword and brandished it in the air. ‘
TEM
!’ he bellowed. ‘
SPIKER! STOPE! HUBBLE! WHERE ARE YOU
?’

His words echoed and faded away to nothing. Twig hung his head. It was hopeless. It was … but wait. He cocked his head to one side.

‘What is it?’ asked the professor.

‘Sssshh!’ Twig hissed, and closed his eyes to concentrate all the harder. And there it was again. Low and plaintive – the faint but unmistakable sound of a banderbear yodelling its greetings.

As a child, Twig had often lain in bed listening to the massive solitary creatures calling to one another across the vast distances of the Deepwoods. So far as he knew, there were no banderbears in the Twilight Woods – save one.

‘
HUBBLE
!’ he cried, and yodelled back as best he could. ‘Wa-ah-ah-ah!’

‘Wa-ah-ah-ah-ah!’ came the reply, closer now.

Gripping his sword – just in case – Twig broke into a run.

‘Wuh-wuh!’ he called excitedly.

‘Wuh-wuh!’ The voice was closer than ever. The next moment there came the sound of cracking and splintering wood, and Hubble himself – the giant albino banderbear – came crashing out of the shadowy trees towards him.

‘Hubble!’ Twig exclaimed.

‘T-wuh-g!’ roared the banderbear, and the pair of them fell into each other's arms and hugged warmly.

‘I feared I would never see you again,’ said Twig at length, as he pulled himself away. As he did so, he re-alized they were not alone. Just as the Professor of Light had followed him, so the rest of the crew had followed Hubble. Twig wiped his tears away, and smiled round at the circle of grinning faces.

‘Tem,’ he said. ‘Spiker. Stope, Stone Pilot – it is
so
good to see you all.’

‘And it warms my heart to discover that you, too, are safe, Master Twig,’ said Tem Barkwater. He paused. ‘I… that is, we hoped the captain might be with you.’

Twig shook his head. ‘Cloud Wolf refused to abandon the
Stormchaser
,’ he said. ‘The last I saw of him, he had regained control of the sky ship and had steered it to the very centre of the Great Storm.’

‘Good old cap’n Cloud Wolf,’ said Tem Barkwater. ‘The bravest sky pirate I ever met, and that's a fact. He’ll be back to find us soon enough, you see if he isn’t.’

Twig nodded, but said nothing. Now was not the time to mention the ball of lightning he had seen surrounding the sky ship, nor the explosion that followed. There was no point in crushing the sky pirates’ hopes. On the other hand, waiting around for Cloud Wolf to return could prove fatal. In the event, it was the Professor of Light who came to his aid.

‘You must all leave here as soon as you can,’ he said.

The sky pirates turned to look at him. ‘Without the cap’n?’ said Tem, horrified.

‘We have no way of knowing where the captain is,’ said the professor. ‘And in his absence, I recommend we
elect a new captain. Someone to whom we all pledge our allegiance, someone who will lead us to the edge of the Twilight Woods.’

Tem shuffled about awkwardly. ‘Who then?’ he said gruffly.

‘Why, Twig, of course,’ said the professor. ‘Who else? As the erstwhile captain's son and heir…’

The sky pirates gasped as one. Tem Barkwater shook his head in disbelief. ‘Son and heir?’ he exclaimed. ‘What, young Twig? But, he can’t be.’

‘Are you doubting my word?’ the Professor of Light demanded stiffly.

‘No … Yes … I mean…’ Tem bumbled.

‘Quintinius … that is, Cloud Wolf told me himself,’ the professor said. ‘That is why he intended leaving the lad back in Undertown. For his own safety.’

Tem whistled through his teeth. ‘I remember the cap’n once telling us about a child born to him and the lady Maris,’ he said. ‘They had no choice but to abandon him to his fate in the Deepwoods…’ He turned to Twig, who nodded.

‘I was that child,’ he said.

Tem stared for a moment, nonplussed. Then, abruptly,
he drew his sword, raised it high and fell to his knees. ‘To you, Captain Twig, son of Cloud Wolf, I pledge my life.’

Seeing his example, Spiker, Stope Boltjaw and the Stone Pilot followed suit. Twig reddened. It was all happening so quickly. Sky pirate captain – and he didn’t even have a sky ship! Nevertheless, as custom required, he drew his own sword and crossed it with the raised swords of the sky pirates, one after the other.

‘And I to you,’ he said. ‘And I to you.’

The sky pirates replaced their swords, raised their heads and cried out, ‘Captain Twig, we await your word.’

‘Yes, well, I…’ Twig faltered. His face turned redder still.

‘There is a star,’ the Professor of Light interjected. ‘The East Star. Not only is its light a constant amidst the shifting passage of the constellations, but it is also bright enough to be seen by twilight.’ He bent his knees and looked up awkwardly into the sky. ‘There,’ he said, pointing. ‘There it is.’

The sky pirates all turned and looked. One after the other, they too saw the East Star, twinkling softly in the golden glow. Twig nodded. It was time for him to assume the control he had been given.

‘If we keep the star in front of us,’ he said, ‘it will ensure that we are walking in a straight line. Sooner or later, we are bound to reach the edge of the Twilight Woods. Are you with me?’

‘Aye aye, cap’n,’ they replied. ‘We are with you.’

‘Then let us go,’ Twig said. ‘Professor, you walk with me. Hubble, you bring up the rear. Make sure no-one straggles or strays.’

‘Wuh-wuh,’ the banderbear replied.

They set off once more, with Twig feeling more confident than at any other time since his arrival in the Twilight Woods. He had a purpose now: an aim, a destination. What was more, he had responsibilities beyond himself. He glanced back at the crew as they waded after him through the thick, liquid air.

They had all suffered injuries during their emergency escape. Spiker's arms and face were badly bruised, Tem Barkwater's nose looked broken, the Stone Pilot was limping awkwardly, while Stope Boltjaw had lost his makeshift lower jaw, leaving his head gaping open in a permanent, empty grin. Worst of all, however, was Hubble.

At their initial reunion, Twig had been too overjoyed to notice. But now, as he looked at the banderbear, he saw that he was in a sorry state. The white fur down his front was stained and matted with blood, and he wheezed noisily with every step he took. Twig could only pray that his old friend's injuries were not as bad as they appeared.

Twig turned back, and checked they were still heading towards the star. ‘It was good of you to accompany us,’
he said to the professor.

‘Ah, well,’ he said. ‘My motives were not altogether selfless, for I too need to find the edge of the Twilight Woods.’

Twig was surprised. ‘But I thought you intended staying here,’ he said.

‘Indeed I do,’ said the professor. ‘But if I am to calculate the number of Great Storms I must first establish the total area of the Twilight Woods. And I can’t do that by remaining somewhere in the middle.’

‘No,’ said Twig absent-mindedly. ‘I suppose you can’t.’

Something had occurred to him – something worrying. Assuming they did make it to the edge of the Twilight Woods, what then? The Mire was notoriously dangerous even to fly over; how much more dangerous
it would be to cross on foot. What was more, as captain, he would be responsible for his crew's well-being. Shivering with anticipation, Twig turned back to the professor for advice.

‘What the…!’ he exclaimed. The professor was not there. He spun around in a panic, and saw him several paces back, crouched down stiffly on a bank beside a tree.

‘To see a world in a grain of stormphrax,’ he was saying. ‘To hold infinity in the palm of one's hand…’

‘Professor!’ Twig shouted, and shook him firmly by the shoulder.

The Professor of Light turned and stared into Twig's eyes. Slowly, slowly, there was recognition. ‘Twig,’ he said. ‘I … I am so sorry,’ he said. ‘Let us continue,’ he said.

‘Thank you, Professor,’ said Twig. ‘I…’ He paused and turned to the others. ‘This is too hazardous,’ he said. ‘We must make sure that none of us wanders off – even if his mind does.’

‘A rope,’ said Spiker.

‘Of course!’ said Tem Barkwater enthusiastically, as he swung his own coil of rope down from his shoulder. ‘We must all tie ourselves together in a line.’

Twig nodded and supervised the operation. He kept Hubble at the back, tying the rope right round his immense waist. Next, at regular intervals, he made slip-knots, got the sky pirates to put their left hands through the loops and tightened them around their wrists, one after the other. Tem Barkwater, Spiker, Stope Boltjaw, the
Professor of Light. Lastly, he tied the remaining length of rope around his own waist.

‘Right,’ he announced. ‘Onwards!’

Bound together, the ramshackle crew continued through the Twilight Woods, on towards the distant star twinkling far, far in front of them. Twig shuddered. ‘I hope the end is not
too
far,’ he whispered.

‘… too far…’ the air whispered back.

Just then, a sudden commotion erupted behind him. Twig spun round and looked down the line of sky pirates. Someone was missing.

‘Where's Stope Boltjaw?’ he demanded, as he strode angrily towards the empty slip-knot.

‘Gone,’ said Spiker.