demise come true.
This is fun!
thought Stanley.
I wonder what Rasmussenâs up to?
Rasmussen had gone straight from the meeting in the Bruntâs hot little bedroom to Stanleyâs bedroom, where she had been busy at the Examinator. She had expected to hear Stanleyâs mother ready to give him lessons, but strangely she was nowhere to be heard. Rasmussen was not a fan of the Examinator â anything that had been invented mainly to make lessons unavoidable was never going to be on her list of âfavourite things I ever heard ofâ but she had a strong feeling that it would be useful in the current circumstances. She felt bad that she had not been able to tell the Captain what they had heard previously about the Pirate Queen, but there was no proof as yet that they had been listening to the Sumbaroon â it could of course be anyone pretending, or fantasising, about being onboard Zebadiahâs vessel. It was imperative that she find a way to talk back to that mysterious pair, the boy and girl who had seemed to be speaking from inside the Sumbaroon itself. She was keen to find out if they were who they said they were.
âHello, Nora,â she said, as the little fat rat stared at her unblinkingly.
Rasmussen had the feeling that Nora didnât like her, but she didnât let that put her off, as she took a small screwdriver from a toolbox on Stanleyâs bedside table, and began to unscrew the back of the Examinator. She may not go to lessons very often, but that didnât mean she didnât know a thing or two â¦
Up in the wheelhouse, Cloudier, the Captain and Ms Huntley were cheering at the tops of their voices. They had seen the flying rocks, of course they had, but all their efforts to change the Galloonâs course had been in vain. They had resorted to calling for a full stop, which meant loosening all the sails on the Galloon, and letting them flap in the wind so there was no forward motion at all, but their impetus had carried them on. Just when they had felt sure they must crash into the strange floating rock that had been sitting in their path, something incredible had happened. A great brown shape, like a version of Fishbane that was a thousand times bigger and carved from oak, had flashed out from beneath the Galloon in a shower of shattered rocks, and flown off into the distance, where it had begun to smash, shove and heave a path through the rock field for the Galloon to follow. It was also, Cloudier saw, taking the opportunity to fling a few rocks at the ground, where she presumed the FishTank was still making its way towards the horizon.
âGo Claude!â yelled the Captain, pumping his fist with delight.
He and Ms Huntley gave each other a hug and slap on the back.
âMother!â cried Cloudier, embarrassed.
âOh, shush, Clouds,â said her mother, which was her usual response.
Cloudier couldnât help being elated as well, as she watched the great creature slamming its way through the ever-growing cloud of rocks.
âWeâll have to go slow, but I think we can proceed,â said the Captain. He grabbed the nearest Squeaking Tube and cleared his throat.
âAhem, Skyman Abel, Mr Clamdigger, I think we can risk half-speed ahead with caution. Follow that tiger.â
A tiny squeak told Cloudier that at least one of them had responded.
âTiger?â she said, nonplussed. âClaude? Not â¦
Claude
Claude?â
âYes indeed, Cloudier. It seems the legends are, in fact, true. Who knew?â
âNot even you?â asked Ms Huntley.
âOn this occasion, I promise you, not even me. I was given the figurehead â Claude â as a gift. I did not watch him being carved or installed. I knew the rumours about him, but thought that was what they were. It seems not. It seems we have a powerful ally.â
âWhere was he when we nearly lost Clamdigger to the sea? Or when we had to fly into that volcano?â
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