Fire Over Swallowhaven

  The Six Crowns:

  Fire Over Swallowhaven

  Allan Jones Gary Chalk

  Epigraph

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  1

  Swallowhaven

  2

  Amazons, Wolves, and Steam Moles

  3

  Captain Grizzletusk

  4

  A Serious Punch-Up!

  5

  Ishmael March

  6

  Lord Slatterkin’s Fancy

  7

  The Magnificent Phoenix Bird!

  8

  Blackpowder and Treacle

  9

  Riddles

  10

  Cold Blue Flames

  About the Author and Illustrator

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  PROLOGUE

  The legends say that once, long, long ago, there was a single round world, like a ball floating in space, and that it was ruled over by six wise badgers. The legends also tell of a tremendous explosion, an explosion so huge that it shattered the round world into a thousand fragments, a vast archipelago of islands adrift in the sky. As time passed, the survivors of the explosion thrived and prospered and gave their scattered island homes a name—and that name was the Sundered Lands.

  That’s what the legends say.

  But who believes in legends nowadays?

  Well…Esmeralda Lightfoot, the Princess in Darkness does, for one. According to Esmeralda, the truth of the ancient legend was revealed to her in a reading of the magical and ancient Badger Blocks. And her reluctant companion, Trundle Boldoak, is beginning to believe, as well—especially as they have already found two of the crowns. They have also found a new friend to accompany them on their quest—a lighthearted minstrel by the name of Jack Nimble.

  But there is a problem. Someone else is also hunting for the six crowns. His name is Captain Grizzletusk, and he’s the meanest, bloodthirstiest, wickedest pirate ever to sail the skies of the Sundered Lands. And just to make matters even worse, Grizzletusk and his murderous pirate band are being controlled by none other than Millie Rose Thorne, Queen of All the Roamanys, and—horrifyingly enough—Esmeralda’s very own aunty.

  No wonder our heroes are on the run!

  “Keep hold of that feather, Trundle!” yelled Esmeralda. “If it gets away from you, we’re done for!”

  “I am keeping hold of it,” Trundle replied, between gritted teeth. “It’s not easy, you know! The thing’s got a mind of its own.”

  He was quite worn out with the effort of hanging on to the long red phoenix feather. It strained forward over the prow of their skyboat, the Thief in the Night, twitching and twisting and squirming in his aching paws as if it were desperate to break free and soar away into the night.

  With the help of a friendly hedgehog called the Herald Pursuivant—or Percy for short—Trundle, Esmeralda, and their companion Jack Nimble had discovered the feather in an old clock tower in the ancient city of Widdershins, coiled up in a metal orb attached to the Iron Crown of the Badgers of Power.

  Jack had recognized the feather at once and sang them the song of the lovely and glorious phoenix bird, which, if its feather were returned, would tell a great secret. Of course, Esmeralda was instantly certain that the secret of the phoenix must be the clue that would lead them to the third of the Six Crowns of the Badgers of Power: the Crown of Fire.

  And so, leaving the Crystal Crown and the Iron Crown for safekeeping with Percy, they had set off to find the phoenix. According to legend, the wonderful bird lived inside a volcano on a desolate and far-flung island at the farthermost reaches of the Sundered Lands.

  Well, of course he does, Trundle had thought the moment he heard this. It would be too easy if he lived somewhere normal!

  And so they had set off for the fiery mountain home of the mythical phoenix bird. It seemed to Trundle that the farther they went, the more impatient the feather became to find its way home. But their trim little skyboat was already whizzing along as fast as possible. Esmeralda was at the tiller and Jack was racing to and fro with the boom, the pair of them expertly catching every last breath of wind so that the sails were stretched almost to the bursting point, and the slender hull went zipping through the night like an arrow from the bow.

  “If you can’t hold that feather any longer,” puffed Jack as he hauled on the thrumming ropes, “why don’t you try nailing it to the mast?”

  “Brilliant notion!” exclaimed Trundle. He chose not to add that it was a pity Jack hadn’t thought of that a while ago, and saved him cramped paws and strained muscles from the effort of keeping the rebellious feather under control.

  Needing both hands free for this task, Trundle unbuttoned his jerkin and shoved the wriggling feather inside. Buttoning himself up again, he rummaged in the pile of goods and provisions that was heaped up in front of the mast.

  “Hee hee hee,” he chortled, doubling up.

  “What are you playing at, Trundle?” called Esmeralda.

  “I’m—hee hee hee—I’m looking for a—hee hee—a hammer and—ho ho, ha ha ha—and a nail—hee hee hee,” Trundle replied, wriggling and writhing and clutching himself.

  “What’s so funny?” Esmeralda demanded.

  “The feather—hee hee hee—it’s tickling me,” gasped Trundle, tears rolling down his face.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” exclaimed Esmeralda. “This is a serious quest, Trundle. Stop being silly!”

  Stifling his giggles, Trundle managed to find a hammer and a nail. He took out the feather, held it against the mast, and with a few quick whacks drove a nail into the wood and bent it over so that the shaft of the feather was trapped underneath.

  Cautiously, he let the feather go. It quivered and shook itself like a dog coming out of the water. For a moment, Trundle got the distinct feeling the feather was looking reproachfully at him—if such a thing were possible. Then it seemed to gather itself again and stretched out as taut as a bowstring, pointing forward into the starry sky.

  With a gasp of relief, Trundle turned and sat himself down with his back to the mast. At last he could relax and give his paws and arms a rest.

  “Hey, lazybones!” shouted Esmeralda. “No slacking there! If you’ve got nothing better to do, make us some sandwiches. Treacle for me, please—and make it good and thick. I’m famished!”

  With a sigh, Trundle set to.

  It was a beautiful dawn. The Thief in the Night soared through a sky banded with orange and saffron and rosy clouds. Fresh, tangy air blew into Trundle’s excited face as he gazed around in pure joy. The sky was dotted with distant islands in all directions, some just dark spots on the edge of sight, others lit up by the rising sun and glittering like tiny jewels hanging in the endless blue.

  It was at times like this he was glad he had given in to that moment of madness back on his homeland of Shiverstones and agreed to accompany the crazy Roamany girl on her madcap quest. The adventures he’d had! The places he had seen!

  And rising up swiftly beneath them was yet another spectacular and breathtaking sight: a great island city that stretched almost as far as the eye could see. As the morning sun came out from behind the dark floating mass of Nightreef, its rays glanced on orange and terra-cotta roof tiles, glowed on yellow and white walls, and crept across wide, paved plazas and squares. It shone on marble statues and gushing fountains; it flashed off tall arched windows and lit up elegant towers and spires and domes of white and green and pink marble, where gallant silken banners floated in the breeze.

  Jack put an arm around Trundle’s shoulders.

  “Swal
lowhaven.” He sighed, gazing down at the approaching island. “Balm of the weary soul, solace to the sore eye, comfort to the aching foot! It must be five years since last I was here.”

  Trundle could understand Jack’s enthusiasm. Swallowhaven was a wonderful and spellbinding vision in the early morning light. The vast city lapped up to the very brink of the island. There were even buildings that perched precariously over the outermost edge, their windows and verandas and graceful balconies staring down into blue nothingness.

  Quays, piers, and jetties of white stone hemmed the outer rim of the city, while here and there, wharves and docks snaked inward, their moorings teeming with a colorful multitude of windships and skyboats.

  The travelers had come to the sprawling trading city in order to pick up provisions. Although they had sky charts to guide them, drawn up by the Guild of Observators in Widdershins, they would soon be heading out into regions marked with the comment DEVOID OF SCIENTIFIC INTEREST, which Jack told them simply meant that no one had bothered exploring that far out from the sun before. And as the phoenix feather was leading them right into the Devoids—as they started calling the area—they would need to take on plenty of fresh food and water for the rest of their trip.

  As Esmeralda brought the Thief in the Night down in slow loops toward the city, Trundle saw that the sky below was teeming with swallows, skimming along on outstretched wings, darting from rooftop to rooftop, diving in under the eaves and then spilling out again by the dozen, their high, trilling calls filling the warm air.

  “It’s quite delightful,” he said wistfully. “So peaceful! What a pity we can’t stay here for a while.”

  A cautionary voice in his head whispered: Be careful what you wish for, my lad! But he ignored it.

  Just then, a small navy-blue skyboat came sailing up toward them, its mast flying a bright golden flag.

  “Aha,” said Jack. “We’re due a visit from the Grand Wardens, I see.”

  “Who are they?” asked Trundle.

  “You have to understand that this is a very formal society,” Jack explained. “There are rules and regulations for everything you do. You can’t make landfall here without getting permission from the Grand Master President of the Harbors.” He grinned. “Everything is called the Grand this or that. It’s all very silly, of course, but…” His voice trailed off. “That’s odd,” he said a moment later.

  Trundle peered down at the approaching skyboat. “What is?”

  “They weren’t armed and armored last time I was here,” mused Jack. “Hmm. I wonder what’s up.”

  There was no more time to speculate before the ornate skyboat came alongside the Thief in the Night. Trundle saw that the crew was clad in metal breastplates and wore ridged iron helmets. They looked stern and a little frightened, and they all carried long spears.

  A fresh-faced young otter in golden livery stepped forward. “I am Grand Junior Warden of the Great Eastern Spice Dock,” he announced. “What is your business here?”

  Esmeralda joined them at the bows. “Hello there,” she chirruped merrily. “We’re just passing through, you know. We need food and water, that’s all, then we’ll be on our way.”

  The Grand Junior Warden eyed her distrustfully. “Is that so?” he said. “Do you not know that the United Mercantile Principality of Swallowhaven is on a war footing, and that anyone approaching our city without express permission of the merchant princes is liable to be thrown into jail without trial or hearing?”

  “Lawks!” exclaimed Jack. “No, we didn’t know that.”

  The Grand Junior Warden raised an eyebrow. “Well, you do now.” He lifted an ebony baton. “In the name of the Grand Master President of the United Alliance of Merchant Princes, I commandeer this vessel and demand that all who sail in her be secured and held incommunicado under the articles of war!”

  “Here, hold on!” said Esmeralda as the crewmen bristled menacingly at the Grand Junior Warden’s back. “We’re innocent travelers. There’s no need to take us prisoner!”

  “Don’t take it personally,” said the Grand Junior Warden. “If you can convince the tribunal that you’re not in league with the pirates, you’ll probably be set free as soon as the battle is over.” He chewed his lower lip anxiously for a moment. “Providing we win the battle, of course. If we lose it…” His shoulders slumped in a way Trundle found disturbing. “Well, it really won’t matter, will it? We’ll probably be captured and sold into slavery—those of us who aren’t slaughtered, executed, maimed, crushed, mangled or tossed off the edge of the island.”

  “Um, excuse me a moment,” said Esmeralda. “Did you say pirates? You don’t by any chance mean a particular pirate captain who goes by the name of Grizzletusk, do you?”

  The Grand Junior Warden’s eyes narrowed. “Aha! Then you do know him!”

  “Well, we know of him,” Trundle added quickly. “It’s not like he’s our chum or anything.”

  “Quite the reverse, in fact,” said Jack. “Truth to tell, he’s been chasing us for some time now.” He nodded fervently. “We’re sworn and bitter enemies, you know. Ask anyone.”

  “I’m very glad to hear it,” said the Grand Junior Warden.

  “So what’s old Grizzletusk up to?” asked Esmeralda. “No good, I’ll be bound.”

  “Word has reached us that he has assembled a fleet of twenty-five windships,” said the Grand Junior Warden. “They’re heading this way right now, apparently, intent on plunder…and worse.”

  “Lummee!” said Jack. “Twenty-five, you say?”

  The Grand Junior Warden nodded glumly.

  “Er, what’s going on down there?” asked Esmeralda. Trundle and the others followed her gaze.

  From all points along the margins of the city, windships and skyboats were rising in their hundreds into the sky, darting this way and that and skimming off into the distance like swarms of disturbed insects.

  “That will be the last of the civilians heading off to safety before the battle gets going,” said the Grand Junior Warden. “Just to be on the safe side, the old people and children and all of our most valuable treasures will be hidden away in Mousehole Reach, a little island half a day’s sailing from here.” He nodded thoughtfully. “You never know with pirates—they’re a bad-tempered lot, so I’m told. And to be honest with you, none of us has a clue how to fight them.”

  “We can help you there,” said Esmeralda, much to Trundle’s alarm. “Ever heard the name Razorback? He’s Captain Grizzletusk’s bosun, and an ugly, brutal piece of work he is, to be sure.” She pointed at Trundle. “But this fine fellow beat him in a fair battle in the mines of Drune. Clipped his wings good and proper, he did!”

  “Well, I wouldn’t exactly say that,” Trundle began. “Truth to tell—”

  “No false modesty now, Trun,” interrupted Esmeralda. “We might not look it, Mr. Grand Junior Warden, sir, but we’re brave and experienced warriors. If I were you, I’d take us straight to the commander of your armies. I’m sure we’ll be able to help in the coming battle.”

  “I like the sound of that,” said the Grand Junior Warden. “And it’ll save me a whole heap of paperwork, too. Very well, I will present you to the Grand Tribunal of Adjudicators. Follow me!”

  And with that, he shouted some instructions to his men, whereupon the skyboat wheeled around and went looping toward the city.

  “What did you say that for?” Trundle demanded of Esmeralda, as the Thief in the Night sailed down behind them to moor at Swallowhaven. “We don’t really know how to fight pirates either.”

  “Think, Trundle,” she said. “Would you rather they threw us straight into jail, or would you rather stay free?”

  Jack chuckled and rubbed his hands together. “Good thinking, Esmeralda,” he chortled.

  “Hmm,” grumbled Trundle. “So with any luck we’ll have time for a cream bun and a nice chat before we all get our throats cut by marauding pirates.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Esmeralda said, slapping him on
the back. “Always look on the bright side!”

  The beautiful city of Swallowhaven was strangely quiet and empty as Trundle and the others were marched through the streets by the Grand Junior Warden and his squad. Trundle noticed a few people boarding up windows and nailing planks across doors, but apart from them and the occasional anxious soldier posted on a street corner, it seemed that everyone had fled the coming combat.

  Trundle didn’t blame them. He remembered only too well the sight of diabolical pirates marauding through the streets of his hometown of Port Shiverstones, killing at random, setting fires in the wharves, firing their deadly cannon.

  He shivered at the memory. He and Esmeralda had been running from the pirates ever since—and now it seemed that they had gotten themselves tangled up in someone else’s war!

  The Grand Junior Warden led them into the foyer of a stupendously huge and opulent building. Watched by the eyes of golden statues, they walked with echoing footsteps over marble floors. Diamond-encrusted figurines glittered on plinths and in alcoves. The walls soared up around them, decorated with frescoes and murals and hung with silken flags. Peering upward and feeling very, very tiny, Trundle saw the high arched ceiling was painted with cherub piglets and vole cupids and plump hamster angels, prancing and leaping among fluffy pink clouds.

  “Rich people,” Jack murmured, looking appreciatively around. “It’s no wonder the pirates have their eye on this island.”

  They came through a high entranceway and into another long room. At the far end, five elderly animals in impressive robes sat on five high marble thrones.

  The Grand Junior Warden bowed low. “Most High and Puissant Castellans of the Grand Tribunal of Swallowhaven,” he began. “I beg to interrupt your august deliberations for a moment in order to—”