Child of the Cloud. Cameron Stelzer
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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 crossbows 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.’