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Chapter Nine

The captain stared at Peter, a small tear forming in his right eye. “You’re a brave boy,” he said. “Whatever happens, it’s been an honour to sail with you.”

“Likewise,” said the doctor. “An honour.”

Both rats saluted. Peter nodded. Then the three of them turned to look at the approaching enemy.

The Nasty Cupboard was sailing fast towards the Tumbleweed. Hundreds of pirates hung off the rigging and stood along the deck, all of them laughing and shouting threats. On the poop deck, one rat stood alone. A huge black rat with pink eyes, wearing a coat the colour of old compost. In his hand he held a long loaf of petrified black bread that seemed to cast a cloud of darkness all around him, despite the summer sun.

It could only be Blackbread. As Peter watched, he raised the sharp stick of bread and bellowed, “Run ’em down and board ’em, and I’ll make ’em meet the loaf!”

Rats screamed, the helmsrat let go of the wheel, and the Tumblewheel turned into the wind and stopped dead in the water. A few seconds later, the two ships crashed into each other with the sound of shrieking wood and shouting rats.

In those two seconds, Doctor Norvegicus whispered in Peter’s ear, “Hic haec hoc.”

Peter’s eyes went blurry, the world melted around him and he felt himself stretching out. In the first second he was half as tall as the doctor, and then the doctor was only as high as his waist.