The Troublemakers wanted Cordelia to be their teacher.

This band of dangerous, sea-bitten pirates wanted her to teach them the secrets of Making.

This explained why they had come aboard Little Bear asking for her by name: they had planned to kidnap her for this purpose. Though it still did not explain how they knew about the trouble she had caused in Parliament.

With a jolt, Cordelia realized Thorn was glaring at her, apparently waiting for her to respond.

‘But – but you already know how to make crazily dangerous things!’ Cordelia pointed out, as a glove frilled with what looked like poisonous fungi crawled on its fingers across the deck of its own accord. ‘You’ve terrified the whole of London with your Menacing Magic!’

Thorn grabbed Cordelia’s collar and pushed her face much too close to Cordelia’s, something the Hatmaker heartily wished the pirate queen would stop doing. Cordelia could see her craggy teeth and smell seaweed in her matted hair.

‘You know secrets of Making that we don’t know,’ Thorn hissed. ‘You’ll teach them to us. But if I catch a whiff of sneakery from you, Maker, you’ll be clapped in irons! And then you’ll be thrown to the Sea Dragon!’

Cordelia had absolutely no intention of being thrown to the Sea Dragon. What she did intend to do was rescue Prudence Oglethorne and then make a daring escape. She wasn’t exactly sure how to do this yet, but, for now, simply ‘somehow’ would have to suffice as a plan.

Thorn pointed her cutlass, directing Cordelia to a workbench.

‘Teach!’ she commanded.

Cordelia straightened her back (and her collar too), and raised her eyes to meet Thorn’s glare.

‘I can’t teach with you shouting all the time,’ she said.

I just need to wait for a chance to get into that cabin, she thought, turning towards the workbench. Then I can talk to Prudence and come up with a rescue plan.

She would not be able to rescue anybody if she was in the belly of a sea monster, however. The only way she could bide her time and look for clues would be if she agreed to teach the Troublemakers …

‘Don’t worry.’ Annie Stoneheart leaned down conspiratorially as she took a seat at the bench. ‘She can’t clap you in irons. We don’t have any irons.’

Cordelia shot a curious look at Annie, who winked back.

It was quite a daunting sight: eight pirates sitting in a line on the workshop floor, watching her expectantly. There had been a scuffle over the workbench when it was discovered that not everybody could fit there at once. A vote had been called; the floor was accordingly chosen as equal for all.

Thorn sat grimly in the middle, her cutlass laid over her knees.

‘In case I need to slash any clothes in half,’ she growled. ‘Things can get out of hand quickly in this workshop.’

‘Try not to slash anything in half when somebody is wearing it,’ Cordelia advised.

Thorn merely glowered in reply.

‘Chaos and destruction aren’t my areas of expertise,’ Cordelia said crisply, observing the gnarly and menacing faces staring up at her. ‘Most Makers concentrate on creating things to help people, not to frighten them. But I suppose you want to learn more Troublemaking techniques?’

There was silence.

Thorn turned her intense glare on Never.

‘Well … no,’ Never said, seemingly pressured into talking by the power of Thorn’s stare. ‘Not exactly.’

Thorn continued to glare at Never, who went on haltingly: ‘We – we want to … we want to learn … other things …’

‘Wrecking?’ Cordelia suggested. ‘Laying waste? Ruination?’

‘NO!’ Thorn exploded.

The pirate queen swung her cutlass, and Cordelia jumped as it sank into the workbench, rather too near her hand.

Never gave a nervous cough. ‘Actually, we want to learn to Make …’

He looked round at the others.

‘Barn-Dancing Boots!’ Billy Bones piped up.

‘Gladhand Gloves!’ Annie Stoneheart yelled.

‘Quick-Step Slippers!’ added Bad Tabitha.

The air was filled with voices yelling suggestions. Cordelia was astonished. These grim and grisly pirates wanted to make bright, positive creations. The pirates who destroyed ships and left no survivors wanted to create dancing boots? And Gladhand Gloves? It seemed almost grotesque.

Shelly was flapping her arms, apparently miming some kind of Cavorting Cloak. The Troublemakers’ faces became wild with excitement.

‘A Good-Memories Beret!’ Smokestack croaked as Cordelia held up her hands for silence.

‘And you, Thorn Lawless?’ Cordelia asked. ‘What do you want to Make?’

For a moment, Cordelia was afraid that the pirate (who had remained tight-lipped as the Troublemakers around her erupted with enthusiastic suggestions) might seize her cutlass again, and threaten to slash her in two.

‘A Compassion Cap,’ Thorn muttered. Her hard voice was lace-edged with longing.

She glared around as if daring anybody to laugh. Nobody did.

Cordelia barely dared breathe.

She also barely dared ask herself the question WHY? Why did this notorious pirate, who took every opportunity to growl and threaten, want to create such a soft and gentle piece of clothing?

But even though the question bounced around her mind, it did not cross her lips. Instead, she said, ‘A Compassion Cap. All right. That can be done.’

Before Cordelia would allow them to begin Making, she instructed the pirates to tidy their workshop. She remembered Aunt Ariadne telling her, ‘An untidy workshop makes for unruly magic!’

If they were going to make untroublesome clothes, they would need to clear all traces of Trouble away.

Cordelia made Billy Bones sweep every Turbidus seed off the edge of the platform. Shelly rounded up a troupe of pecking shells while Jim emptied a jar full of mischievous wind out at a safe distance, and Never shook some poisonous-looking caterpillars off reels of ribbon.

When Cordelia was sure there weren’t any (very) dangerous ingredients left lying about, she inspected the workshop properly. She could see attempts at a ribboning table and a collection of needles made from twigs, as well as cup-shaped leaves that held heaps of pollen, and piles of knobbly pearl buttons that looked handmade.

She found fancy cloaks in a corner, threaded with gold. These clearly had not been made on the island. They must have been plundered from the last unfortunate ship the Troublemakers had robbed. Perhaps they had belonged on the ruined ship she had seen floating past Little Bear.

She picked up a hat decorated with strange inky crystals and shimmering lizard scales. It positively fizzed with wickedness, making her fingers burn.

‘Ouch!’ she cried.

‘Give me that!’ Thorn snatched the hat and threw it over the edge of the treehouse. Thinking it best not to annoy the pirate queen, particularly at such a high altitude, Cordelia backed away.

When the workshop was tidy and the tables clear, the Troublemakers sat back down in a row, staring at her expectantly.

‘The first lesson: do any of you know about Makers having magic in their fingertips?’ Cordelia began.

This question was met with blank stares.

Cordelia held out her hands.

‘A Maker’s fingers should be brimming with magic,’ she explained, wiggling her fingers. ‘The magic inside you comes from your heart and head and belly, and it travels right through the tips of your fingers. So your hands do your heart’s work, to change the world for the better.’

‘Isn’t there any other way?’ a gruff voice growled from the end of the row.

It was Thorn.

Cordelia hesitated, but there was only one true answer to this question.

‘No,’ she said finally. ‘Your magic connects to the magical ingredients you use, and they work together, like a compass and the North Pole. So, without the right intention in your fingertips, you’ll never be able to make the magic you want to.’

She thought she heard a growl from the pirate queen.

‘You can do it!’ she encouraged hastily. ‘Everybody, hold out your hands!’

A line of gnarly hands stretched towards Cordelia.

‘Now try to connect to the magic in your fingertips!’

The Troublemakers gurned and strained, as though they were trying to squeeze lightning bolts out of the ends of their fingers.

‘ARGH!’

‘YAAARRR!’

‘GRRRR!’

‘Good!’ Cordelia called. ‘Now, try to put that magic into Making!’

The pirates set to work, scowling in concentration as they added all sorts of ingredients to cloaks and gloves and hats and boots. To Cordelia’s surprise, it was clear that every Troublemaker had strong Maker instincts and talent. She could tell by the way they reached for the right ingredients without stopping to think. But even though they chose the best ingredients, everything they made seemed to cause more mischief than they intended.

Bad Tabitha’s Quick-Step Slippers carried her around so fast she became a dizzy blur, unable to stop, while Vinegar Jim’s glistering seaweed Capering Cape swallowed him up like a tongue-twister come to life.

Never bashfully refused to try on his Happy-Thoughts Hat, but merely holding it made him burst into manic cackling laughter that turned him red in the face.

Annie Stoneheart’s Gladhand Gloves clapped so hard that she lost control of her arms and pushed Shelly off the edge of the deck. Luckily, Shelly was caught by criss-crossing vines that bounced her back on to the treehouse, where she continued covering a cloak in conch shells as though nothing unusual had happened.

Smokestack’s Good-Memories Beret made him babble the rudest stories he could think of, while Billy Bones’s Barn-Dancing Boots sent him stomping on everybody’s toes.

The Troublemakers clearly had powerful magic in their fingertips, but it was a runaway-horse kind of magic, wild and unpredictable, galloping madly.

Cordelia fled from Billy’s stamping feet towards Thorn Lawless, who was hunched over a table at the end of the deck.

‘What?’ Thorn snapped.

Cordelia had avoided the pirate queen up until now; Thorn’s mutters as she worked suggested far-off thunder coming closer. She held a hat in her fists, staring as though she was trying to set it on fire with her eyes.

‘How is the Compassion Cap coming along?’ Cordelia enquired in a delicate tone of voice with which one might ask a dragon what she was planning to set fire to next.

Thorn shot Cordelia a look, the way some people shoot flaming arrows at their enemies.

Cordelia tried again. ‘What ingredients are you going to add?’

Thorn didn’t answer, so Cordelia took another step forward to look at the selection of ingredients laid out on the table beside her. There were soft pale feathers, lacy spiderwebs, golden stamens of flowers and some morning dew collected in a shell. Cordelia could not help gasping at this beautiful collection.

‘These are amazing!’ she exclaimed.

Thorn glowered but in what Cordelia suspected might be a pleased way.

‘The web’s from a white spider that lives here. I found the feathers lining an empty nest, and the stamens are from flowers that grow by the lagoon. The morning dew is in a shell I liked,’ the Troublemaker told the Hatmaker gruffly.

Cordelia was impressed. She did not recognize any of these ingredients, but when she ran her fingers over them with the gentlest touch, she felt immediately how powerfully magical they were.

‘How did you know these ingredients would all work for a Compassion Cap?’ she asked.

Thorn shrugged. ‘I don’t know … I just felt they’d work best.’

‘All right, I think you should add them to the hat,’ Cordelia told her. ‘Remember to keep your magic in your fingertips!’

She watched as Thorn carefully tucked feathers into gaps in the stitching, wound the stamens round the crown, fixed them with the spiderweb and sprinkled the whole creation with morning dew.

The pirate queen placed the hat on the table and stared at it.

‘Are you going to try it on?’ Cordelia suggested.

‘No!’ Thorn pulled her tricorn down firmly over her ears. ‘You try it!’

She thrust the Compassion Cap at Cordelia. Every Troublemaker turned to her, looking curious and a little worried.

Cordelia really did not want to put it on. But a prickly temper was rising around Thorn like a fast-growing briar patch. Remembering that the Sea Dragon was always hungry, Cordelia reluctantly pulled on the cap.

Thorn watched with narrowed eyes.

Cordelia felt kindness and sympathy and compassion flitting around her mind like butterflies. Amazement was rising like the sun inside her head. Understanding dawned on her like a clear day. It was wonderful, a breath of goodwill, fresh as spring.

Of course! Thorn just wants to be – to be – to – be –

Thunder interrupted the sunrise. Tumult clashed in the sky of her mind. All was storm and fury. Cordelia was consumed by a red rage of hatred. She seized the workbench – meaning to launch it at Thorn –

Never lunged for her.

Suddenly Cordelia’s mind cleared.

Never had torn the Compassion Cap off her head.

THUD!

Cordelia dropped the workbench. It was extremely heavy. Only the cap had given her the strength to lift it.

Everyone stood in shocked silence, staring at Cordelia.

Thorn glowered furiously.

‘I – I don’t understand,’ Cordelia stammered, her hands shaking as she stared at the Compassion Cap in Never’s trembling hands. ‘The ingredients you picked were good. How did the hat go so horribly wrong …?’

She gingerly took the cap from Never, to inspect Thorn’s work. But Thorn grabbed her cutlass, yelling, ‘ALL I CAN MAKE IS TROUBLE!’

For a terrible second, Cordelia feared she was going to be slashed in half and fed to the Sea Dragon as the main course as well as dessert. But Thorn’s sword flashed down and suddenly the Compassion Cap was in two pieces on the workshop floor.

‘THE LESSON IS OVER!’ the pirate queen yelled.

The Troublemakers scattered, fleeing up trees and down ladders. Several simply jumped over the edge of the treehouse and were caught by vines and carried to the ground.

Cordelia took her chance and fled.