The Troublemakers’ attack on Little Bear had left the ship in a bad state. If it hadn’t been for the flock of birds descending on them right afterwards, Little Bear and her crew would have gone to the bottom of the sea.

The birds had swallowed the fire engulfing the sails. But still they were left in tatters. A crossbeam had been pulled down by the twisting waterspout, sticky ropes of spiderweb were tangled in the rigging, and the sea monster towing the Trouble had scarred the hull with its flaming tail. Little Bear wheezed and groaned as water seeped in through the damaged wood.

The moment Prospero, Sam, Goose, Melchior and Davey were freed, they ran to the rails. The birds that had rescued them streamed overhead, disappearing into the wink of the sunset.

Somewhere out there, very close but impossible to find, was the island where Cordelia had been taken.

‘CORDELIA!’ Prospero roared over the empty ocean. ‘CORDELIA!’

They caught a little wind in their ragged sails and turned back for the only land in sight: St Freerest. Goose and Sam worked alongside the captain and the crew through the night, hauling up buckets of water from the hold and plugging the leaks that sprang through the damaged hull.

They dropped anchor off St Freerest at first light. Across the bay, the hulking form of the Invincible became slowly visible. Beyond, the Kingless towered at a rakish angle above the jumble of the port.

Prospero went ashore straight away, to seek out workmen and supplies to mend the ship. However, he got nothing but shrugged shoulders and furtive glances and returned to Little Bear empty-handed.

‘The Duchess wouldn’t even answer her door,’ Prospero growled, striding across the deck. ‘I think she’s told everyone on St Freerest not to give us any help. She’s desperate to stop us getting to that island.’

They lowered Davey over the rail on a rope to inspect the burn in Little Bear’s hull.

‘She needs patching and tarring,’ Davey called. ‘She won’t be seaworthy for a week, probably longer!’

‘We’ll fix Little Bear ourselves, even if we have to work all day and night for as long as it takes!’ Prospero said. ‘And then – as soon as she’s seaworthy again – I’ll think of a way to get to the island. There’s got to be a way!’

He set to work mending Little Bear’s hull, swearing loudly in French if any sailors in the dark blue suits of the Royal Navy rowed past looking curious. He worked with heartbroken fury. The few moments he stopped, to wolf down food, he spent scrutinizing the place on the map where Cordelia had seen the Island of Lost Souls. He stared so hard he seemed likely to make a hole in the parchment with his eyes.

Goose and Sam clambered through the rigging, untangling spiderweb from rope. From up there, they could see the Duchess at the door of the Kingless, gazing out at them.

‘If only there was a way we could make her tell us where the island is,’ Sam said, scowling at the Duchess.

‘We could go to my brother, Ignatius!’ Goose suggested suddenly, turning to stare at the Invincible. ‘Ig’s aboard the admiral’s ship! We could tell him we know where the pirates are, explain about Cor–’

‘We’re in disguise and we need to keep it that way, Goose!’ Prospero barked. ‘We’ve just got to hope the Duchess doesn’t turn us in to the admiral. We’d be fools to turn ourselves in.’

Goose looked a little stung. He tugged sullenly at a spiderweb and got it wrapped stickily round his arm. He winced as he pulled it off.

The sun tracked across the sky, watching with an unblinking eye as the crew of Little Bear worked relentlessly. At high noon, the Splendora sailed into the bay.

‘We mustn’t communicate with Capitano Boniface,’ Prospero instructed the crew as they watched the ship drop anchor. ‘I’ll go to him after nightfall and explain.’

They ducked their heads, working through the day and deep into the night, until even the stars looked tired. When Sam and Goose could do no more, they fell, aching, into their beds.

Sam gathered the energy to whisper, ‘There’s gotta be a way ta get to that island.’

And Goose whispered back, ‘We might have to take matters into our own …’

But they were both asleep before he could finish his sentence.

The next morning, when Sam and Goose put their ears to the captain’s door, they heard desperate mutterings coming from behind it. They softly knocked on the door and Prospero opened it, haggard and red-eyed.

‘We brought you some tea,’ Sam said, holding up a steaming teapot.

They could see the cabin was a mess. Papers were strewn everywhere.

‘I can’t find a single map with that cursed island on it,’ Prospero croaked. ‘I’ve half a mind to kidnap the Duchess, damn the admiral, and –’

Prospero froze, mid-sentence.

‘The admiral …’ he murmured. ‘He’s looking for them too …’

He strode to the window, staring out at the hulking Invincible floating like a fortress in the middle of the bay.

‘That island’s hidden within shrouds of magic,’ he muttered. ‘But what if …’

Goose and Sam stood in the doorway, watching as Prospero dived for his treasure chest, throwing maps and instruments aside as he feverishly searched for something.

They set the teapot on a map of the Antilles and backed slowly out of the room. Clearly, the captain had taken leave of his senses, driven to distraction by grief and worry.

‘We’ve gotta do somefing!’ Sam whispered.

‘I agree!’ Goose said firmly. ‘Where shall we start?’

Sam and Goose left a note pinned on the ship’s wheel. At Goose’s behest, it began and ended with apologies, but the middle was full of conviction (though no details, so Prospero could not follow them). Then they slipped away on the little rowing boat.

This time when they stepped ashore, they found the port of St Freerest sullen and tense. Instead of raucous mariners carousing in the streets, there were blue-suited sailors everywhere, hammering up posters that said:

WANTED: THE TROUBLEMAKERS

REWARD: The Price of a King’s Ransom

(or something of equal value)

Scrawled in red across the bottom of every poster were the words:

The words shone like fresh blood. They saw a sailor carrying a bucket of red paint, going from poster to poster, adding those words by hand. Red paint dripped down the walls, dotting the dusty ground.

Sam and Goose stared in horror, seeing Cordelia’s name repeated in red like a curse. They slipped through the marketplace to the Kingless, following the drops of red paint like breadcrumbs.

There was even a poster plastered across the Kingless door. They were careful not to get red paint on their knuckles as they knocked.

The Duchess answered, saw their faces and immediately tried to slam the door. Sam stuck a foot in the doorway so she couldn’t close it.

‘We want to know how to find the Island of Lost Souls,’ Goose demanded.

‘I can’t help you,’ the Duchess hissed through the crack. ‘It’s impossible to get to unless you can see it.’

‘You can see it, can’t you?’ Sam said.

‘You can take us there!’ Goose added. ‘Please!’

‘Go away and don’t come back!’ the Duchess told them in a fierce whisper. ‘The admiral’s already asking too many questions. Don’t you dare breathe a word about the island to him or I’ll –’

Her eyes suddenly grew wide and angry as she saw the poster pasted across her door. She ripped it down, tore it in half and hurled the pieces into the street.

With that, she kicked Sam’s foot out of the way and slammed the door. They heard the lock click.

‘We could hammer on it until she comes out again?’ Goose suggested.

But Sam glanced around, shaking her head.

‘The admiral’s sailors are everywhere,’ she said, eyeing a knot of navy-blue sailors milling around the quiet market stalls.

Sam and Goose slipped back along the harbour, careful to avoid any sailors in navy. They stared at the new ships that had recently arrived. Alongside the Splendora, they saw a British ship that had come from London yesterday, bringing news.

The market vendors gossiped as they set up their stalls for the day.

‘Britain sounds grim!’ one observed cheerfully.

‘Making banned for all!’ a lady hanging up windchimes tinkled. ‘And that dreadful Sir Piers the new prime minister!’

‘Wouldn’t like to be a Maker now!’ a watermelon seller added.

Goose and Sam stared at each other in dismay.