The next day, Cordelia, Sam and Goose loitered on the beach.

They had sneaked out of the mossy hammocks in the tiny cabin they had been given, and stolen up to the crow’s nest early that morning, only to find the sky-sailing boat gone and Tabitha waiting for them.

‘We thought you’d try to take the wind-dinghy,’ Tabitha said with a grin. ‘But Never left for St Freerest at first light, to take a message to the Duchess, to pass on to your father that you’re all safe.’

Cordelia was taken aback by this thoughtfulness.

‘And Thorn posted me here last night to tell you – what exactly was her message?’ Tabitha frowned as she tried to remember it word for word. ‘Nice try, Makers, but do you think I’m stupider than a sea-urchin sandwich?’

Deciding it would be wise not to answer that rhetorical question, Cordelia, Goose and Sam retreated.

‘We’ve got to get to St Freerest somehow,’ Cordelia muttered as they descended the mast.

Down on the beach, they eyed the Trouble, which lay at anchor in the bay. They, in turn, were being eyed by Billy Bones. Billy lurked behind a palm tree a little way along the beach, smiling shiftily whenever they saw him peering out from behind it.

Thorn had set a watch on the three Makers. Clearly, the pirate queen was determined to cut off every means of escape.

‘We can’t steer the Trouble out of the skull by ourselves,’ Goose mused. ‘We’d need a crew of at least six experienced sailors.’

‘Then first we’ve got to persuade the most experienced sailor of the lot,’ Cordelia said. ‘I think I know where we’ll find him.’

They found Smokestack exactly where Cordelia expected him to be: sitting on his favourite rock in Tablecloth Glade.

He wore an exalted expression and an elaborate lace-web tiara.

‘I don’t know how they spin such beauty,’ he murmured happily, watching a spider turn a twig into a web-spiralled wand. ‘It’s miraculous.’

‘Smokestack, we were wondering –’ Cordelia began.

‘Thorn told me you’d ask,’ the old pirate interrupted her. ‘But you’ll never persuade me to sail away with you. When those children first came aboard my ship, their faces were full of a hunger I can’t describe. And I saw that hunger slowly fade as we sailed towards this island. I’ll never give up on those kids. Not even Thorn.’

He smiled kindly, and Cordelia knew he would never budge. Rather than being frustrated or angry, she was surprised to find that she felt glad. This old pirate, sitting on the rock, quietly watching a magical creature spinning its web, was a sort of craggy guardian angel for the Troublemakers. She was glad they had him.

Smokestack had been so kind to the Troublemakers that, in spite of her difficult relationship with Thorn, Cordelia wanted to give the old man a gift.

She coaxed a spider over to her, took the end of its delicate thread and began to wind it round her hands.

‘I know you’ve got a lot of stories to tell, Smokestack,’ she murmured. ‘I think these spiders can help you spin your tales into yarn. Tell them your stories as they spin and they’ll entwine them into their silk. That way, you can turn your lovely long stories into all sorts of knitted creations.’

Smokestack took the thread from Cordelia. ‘Well, where do I start? Ah! The year was 1722 –’

The children walked away up the glade, leaving Smokestack chatting happily to the spider.

‘We’re running out of escape options,’ Cordelia muttered to Sam and Goose as they reached the lagoon.

Before either Sam or Goose could respond, Annie caught up with them.

‘Thorn says it’s time for lessons. And the choice is between coming along to the workshop quietly or being rolled there by a fungus puffball.’

Looking at the sinister orange puffball trundling after Annie like a strange sort of dog, Cordelia, Sam and Goose decided to go along quietly.

However, when they got to the workshop, Cordelia was not quiet at all.

‘Don’t you want people to know the truth?’ she demanded, striding through the vine curtains as they parted and ignoring the flowers snapping at her. ‘Admiral Ransom is doing terrible things and making it look like it’s you who’s doing them!’

‘Good!’ Thorn sneered, stabbing her needle into the glove she was working on. ‘We want people to be afraid of what we’re capable of.’

‘What about the children you left behind at Miss Prim’s?’ Cordelia added.

Around the workshop, the other Troublemakers shifted uncomfortably, magical ingredients wilting sadly in their hands.

‘They had the chance to come with us,’ Thorn muttered. ‘Not my fault they didn’t.’

Her mouth puckered. She was still tasting the bitterness of her regrets, awakened by the Scruples.

‘And what about stopping Sir Piers?’ Cordelia insisted.

Thorn’s expression hardened.

‘We’re making him feel our wrath,’ she snapped.

Cordelia had run out of reasonable reasons.

‘What’s the point of trying to learn about Making if everything you create makes you unhappy because you can’t make it right?’ she burst out. ‘And you’re giving the Sensibles more reasons to clamp down on magic. You’re not making your father feel your wrath; you’re playing straight into his hands!’

Thorn dropped the glove she was stitching, and it leaped up and pinched her hard on the nose. She clapped a hand to her face, kicking the glove over the side of the treehouse.

‘And you hate everything you create!’ Cordelia yelled, her frustration boiling. ‘That entire pile of clothes was made by you!’

Sure enough, a huge heap of discarded clothes lay beneath the workshop on the jungle floor, a mess of silk and satin and lace and magic, all tossed furiously over the side by the pirate queen.

For a moment, Cordelia thought Thorn would send her over the edge of the treehouse too. The rage on Thorn’s face grew tighter and tighter, ready to explode.

That was when Never walked in.

‘Hello!’ he said cheerily. Then his face fell, looking from Cordelia to Thorn. ‘Oh. What’s going on here? Thorn?’

Without answering, Thorn whirled round and ran away into the treehouse. Cordelia thought she heard a sob as the pirate queen disappeared.

‘I think she’s worried about Rainbow,’ Never muttered. ‘He’s been behaving strangely these last few days.’

Cordelia ignored the squirm of guilt in her belly.

‘What’s the news from St Freerest?’ she asked. ‘Did you tell the Duchess about Admiral Ransom’s treachery? Will she tell my father?’

Never shook his head.

‘She can’t,’ he said. ‘Your father’s missing.’

Cordelia’s mouth dropped open in shock.

‘Why – where –’ she began helplessly.

‘I told the Duchess everything. She was keeping watch on your father through her telescope at the Kingless … Little Bear is still anchored in the bay, with two crew working on her. But Captain Hatmaker’s gone.’

Cordelia reeled. ‘Gone? Just … gone?’

Never nodded. ‘Last seen yesterday,’ he confirmed.

Cordelia backed away from Never, shaking her head. Where could he be? Had he left of his own accord, or been taken prisoner? Was he trying to get to her, or was he on a ship back to England already? How – why – had he disappeared? There must be some reason, but trying to decipher it was confusing – troubling –

‘Look out!’

Cordelia stepped on to air and went over the edge of the treehouse.

‘COR!’

The vines caught her in mid-air, in a dizzy spin of green leaves.

‘Please put me down on the ground,’ she whispered to them, and they set her gently among the ferns.

‘I’m all right!’ she called up, seeing Sam and Goose’s shocked faces peering over the edge of the deck high above. ‘I – I’ve just got to think for a bit. Going for a walk.’

Cordelia wandered through the jungle. She waded through ferns that reached consoling fronds towards her, noticed lantern flowers flicker into light as she went past, splashed silver water from the lagoon on to her face, and was favoured by a fluttering visitation from a pale gold moth that spiralled comfortingly round her head in the green twilight.

She didn’t think she had a destination in mind, until she arrived at the base of the Soulhope Tree, and she realized that she had made her way through the jungle, yearning to lay her hands on its humming bark.

She had never been in greater need of hope.

With her hands pressed against the sturdy trunk and hope surging back into the marrow of her bones, she realized – strangely – how lucky she was. She hoped desperately to be reunited with her father, but there was somebody else on this island who dreaded ever facing their own father again.

How lucky Cordelia was to love and rely upon someone so much that she felt that all the problems of the world would be solved if she could reach him. Thorn’s world, on the other hand, would be destroyed if her own father ever reached her.

Cordelia found Thorn in the Belly Cave.

Rainbow lay in a languid S over the glowing gems in the middle of the cave. He was pale yellow, a sickly, worrisome colour.

Thorn crouched beside him, a hand on his heaving side. Cordelia had never seen her look so vulnerable as she anxiously checked the Sea Dragon’s eyes and combed his whiskers with her fingers.

She hesitated at the cave entrance and Thorn’s whole body tautened.

‘Go away,’ Thorn muttered. ‘I’ve got nothing to say to you.’

But Cordelia did have something to say.

‘I’m sorry,’ she began, speaking to Thorn’s hunched back. ‘I didn’t mean to be unkind about the things you make. It was wrong of me and I’m very sorry.’

‘It’s true, though.’ Thorn’s voice came out small. ‘I can never make anything good any more. My hands are scarred.’

Thorn’s back trembled, and she wrapped her arms around herself in a forlorn hug. Cordelia crouched down beside her.

‘The power of Making starts in your heart, Thorn,’ Cordelia told her. ‘It’s there waiting for you to be brave enough to find it.’

Troublemaker turned desolate eyes to Hatmaker.

‘I don’t know if I can. I’ve grown so many thorns around it,’ she whispered.

Cordelia put a hand on Thorn’s arm. ‘You don’t have to do it alone.’

She wondered if the Scruple sweets were still affecting Thorn; her mouth was a dam desperately trying to hold things in. The pirate queen glared at the Hatmaker for a long moment, and the feelings she seemed desperate to try to stop coming out of her mouth welled up in her eyes.

‘I’m sorry!’ Thorn burst out. ‘I wish I could have protected every kid at Miss Prim’s, but I couldn’t make them come with us – they were too scared! And I can’t let the others get hurt now. And I can’t let you get hurt either. I’m only stopping you going back to London because I’m trying to protect you from my father, the way I couldn’t protect Shelly –’

These words broke over them like a downpour after a scorching day.

‘I’m sorry we kidnapped you and I’m sorry I was horrible to you! I hated you, because I was jealous. I wanted so desperately to be like you,’ Thorn admitted. ‘And I – I just want us to be friends!’

The word friends – friends – friends – echoed around the cave, returning to Cordelia and Thorn from every direction, like a good spell Thorn had cast on them.

Cordelia smiled at her. ‘I’d like to be friends too.’

Thorn’s mouth seemed – at last – to have been released from the bitter shrivel of the Scruples. She could finally smile back.

‘And I understand now that you’re trying to protect me,’ Cordelia said gently. ‘Thank you.’

These words seemed to cause a quiet magic somewhere within the pirate queen. She threw her arms round Cordelia.

For a moment, the Hatmaker was astonished, as Thorn Lawless hugged her with the same ferocity with which she did everything. Cordelia hugged her back, knowing she had made the fiercest of friends.

The light in the cave brightened as Rainbow suddenly glowed orange.

‘What’s happening to him?’ Thorn cried, throwing herself down beside the Sea Dragon, who was rapidly turning purple. ‘Is he dying?’

Cordelia watched in concern as the Sea Dragon writhed strangely, apparently performing some kind of painful dance. Rainbow was turning from indigo to black, changing into night like the sky. His wings flapped and his mouth opened, revealing winking fangs.

‘What’s wrong, Rainbow?’ Thorn sobbed.

She threw her arms round the creature’s scaly neck.

‘Thorn, look!’ Cordelia tugged her shoulder, pointing.

In the middle of the night-black coils of the Sea Dragon, a pale orb shone like a moon.

‘He – he’s laid an egg!’ gasped Thorn.

Cordelia and Thorn stared in amazement at this startling miracle.

‘That’s why you were behaving so strangely!’ Thorn breathed, stroking Rainbow gently on the head. ‘You were getting ready to lay an egg! I – I suppose you’re not a he after all – you’re a she!’

Rainbow curled herself snugly round the egg and settled down with an expression of proud satisfaction on her ancient face. Around her, the gems studding the ceiling of the cave twinkled.

BOOM!

The air shuddered.

For a moment, Cordelia thought the egg was already hatching. But Thorn whirled round and clapped a hand over her mouth, pointing.

From the cave entrance, they could see out over the island and across the bay.

The sky had come together with the sea – it was causing a storm beyond the rocks. Lightning slashed across the murderous clouds.

A shining lance tore through the churning grey, and a golden-haired knight appeared, floating weirdly above the sea, before a blunt prow broke through the mist.

A hulking ship was sailing straight for Soulhaven.

Thorn’s face suddenly wore the expression of the frightened child she had vowed never to be again.

The ship was the Invincible.