The Golden Anchor. Cameron Stelzer

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      Whisker must have blacked out for several seconds because the next thing he remembered, was staring dazedly across at his sister. The sun had returned and rays of morning light danced playfully across the web. Anna’s mouth had been gagged and her free arm was stuck to the sticky thread. Whisker was relieved to see that she had not been harmed.

      A pitiful clucking noise drew his attention from Anna to his companions below. Whisker noted, in surprise, that neither Chatterbeak nor the two rats were encased in cocoons of silk. Ruby and Horace were gagged in a similar fashion to Anna, but the off-white colour of their binds told Whisker that the thick material was not silk from a golden orb-weaver spider.

      Strange … he thought, going cross-eyed to see the gag in his own mouth. He ran his tongue over the material, growing even more confused. It wasn’t sticky like silk. It was soft like cotton, its texture reminding him of an old pillowcase or a bedsheet.

      What on earth would a spider be doing with bedding? he asked himself.

      A faint vibration rippled through the web and Whisker’s ears pricked up. The soft padding sound had returned and he lowered his eyes to the forest floor, scanning the pine needles for clues.

      Where are you? he thought, his curiosity growing stronger. What are you …?

      A sudden flash of light caught Whisker’s attention and his eyes darted to his left. Beyond the edge of the web, a narrow beam of sunlight reflected off a long, metallic object. Whisker recognised it instantly as his green-handled scissor sword. As it vanished into the shadows, its new owner stepped into the light.

      The creature was a small rodent wearing a grey-and-white striped shirt and matching baggy trousers. He carried a bunched-up sheet over one shoulder, secured at the top with a pillowcase to form a makeshift sack. His beady, black eyes darted suspiciously from side to side as he crept, almost silently, across the ground.

      Reaching a safe distance from the web, he turned and grinned contemptuously up at his captives, revealing crooked yellow teeth. In the dappled light of the forest, Whisker glimpsed a single, enormous ear protruding from the right side of the rodent’s head. In the place of his left ear, a grey beret sagged limply over his fur.

      If Whisker wasn’t gagged and hanging helplessly from a spider’s web, he would have cried out in disbelief.

      He had never officially met this grotesque little character, and yet he knew exactly who he was. He had first seen him on Sea Shanty Island, running from a battalion of soldier crabs. And he had seen him again, barely three days ago – this time as a prisoner.

      And in a blinding flash of clarity, Whisker understood the true significance of the bedsheet, the pillowcases and the rodent’s convict-like clothing.

      He was the gerbil with the missing ear and he had just escaped from Hawk’s View Prison.

      Eddie the Ear

      Transfixed, Whisker watched the gerbil lower his sack to the ground and began rifling through its contents. A myriad of questions raced through his mind.

      How did the gerbil sneak past the guards? Is there a secret escape route through the prison walls? Does he know where the fox is being held? What’s in that sack of his?

      The answer to the final question quickly became clear when the gerbil removed a strange curved item from his sack and held it in the air. He examined it for a moment, then shrugged and tossed it back into the sack.

      Horace’s golden hook attachment, Whisker thought, as his one-pawed companion let out a small whine.

      The gerbil, satisfied the four-and-a-half sets of eyes now staring at him posed no threat, proceeded to pull out Ruby’s golden spyglass, her gold hoop earring and the small ruby stone she wore around her neck.

      ‘Very nice,’ he said in a thin, gravelly voice, as he examined his prizes. He ran his dirty fingers over the ruby’s shiny surface, then held the necklace to his throat.

      ‘There,’ he said, admiring his reflection in the blade of Whisker’s scissor sword. ‘Eddie the Ear has never looked so sophisticated.’

      Ignoring Ruby’s howls of protest, he returned the items to his sack, then retrieved Whisker’s brown drawstring bag.

      ‘Now what have we here?’ he asked himself, loosening the two cords. СКАЧАТЬ