Sargasso Skies by Allan Jones Page A

bright side,” said Jack, clambering laboriously up the deck. “At least Esmeralda’s aunt Millie and those cutthroat pirates won’t chase us in here!”
    â€œI wish they’d try it,” growled Esmeralda. “I’d love to see the Iron Pig smashed to little bits and all Captain Grizzletusk’s bloodthirsty crew marooned here until they turn up their toes and die!”
    â€œJust like we’re going to do, you mean?” said Trundle.
    â€œNow then, none of that!” Esmeralda said briskly. “Positive attitudes are what we need to get out of this mess. And the first order of the day is to cut ourselves free from all this old rope. Out with your sword, Trundle—get hacking!”
    Trundle drew his sword and leaned out over the back of the skyboat.
    Hack! Slash! Whack! Chop!
    Trundle grinned as he worked away at the ropes looped around the propeller. It was good to see them splitting and falling away under his keen blade. This was more like it! This was proper hero stuff!
    â€œOops!” he said.
    â€œWhat oops?” asked Jack.
    â€œWhy oops?” asked Esmeralda.
    Trundle turned toward them, smiling nervously. “I think I got a bit carried away,” he said.
    Esmeralda put her paw to her forehead. “What have you done?” she said, groaning.
    â€œI sort of . . . accidentally . . . chopped off one of the propeller blades,” Trundle admitted. “Silly me! Still, the propeller will work just as well with only three blades, won’t it?”
    â€œOf course it won’t!” Esmeralda burst out. “It’ll be off-balance. The moment you get going with the treadles, you’ll twist the drive shaft like a corkscrew, you dim-witted animal!”
    â€œOh.” Trundle felt terribly deflated. “Are you sure?” He looked hopefully at Jack, but the squirrel just nodded agreement with Esmeralda.
    There followed a few moments of rather awkward silence.
    â€œI don’t suppose there’s a spare propeller aboard?” Jack asked.
    â€œYou don’t suppose right!” growled Esmeralda.
    â€œOr something we could make a propeller blade with?” added Jack.
    â€œWe could try using Trundle’s snout!”
    â€œWait a minute,” Trundle said, rather alarmed by the way Esmeralda was eyeing his nose. “Isn’t this whole place made up of smashed and wrecked windships and skyboats?”
    â€œIt is. What of it?” snapped Esmeralda.
    â€œSurely there must be a working propeller out there somewhere?” explained Trundle. “Or at worst, some bits and pieces we could use to repair our own one?”
    Jack’s grin opened up like a piano keyboard, and he clapped his paws together. “Well done, Trundle!” he chirruped. “Of course there will be!”
    â€œAnd tools, I’m guessing, to do the fixing with,” Esmeralda chimed in. “And who knows what other useful stuff, as well. Nice thinking, Trundle!”
    Trundle beamed at his two friends. From zero to hero in one leap!
    â€œWell, don’t just sit there grinning like a moonstruck oyster!” Esmeralda declared. “Let’s get busy!”
    â€œWhat about the crowns?” Jack asked, nodding towards the two boxes wedged under the stern seat—boxes that contained the mythical Crowns of Ice and Fire. “Should we take them with us?”
    â€œI don’t think so,” said Esmeralda. “They’ll be safe enough here. It’s not like we’re going far. With any luck, we’ll find everything we need close by.”
    â€œThat’s as may be,” said Jack, picking up his rebec and bow and slinging them over his back. “But I’m not going anywhere without my musical instrument.”
    The three companions made their way down to the front of the tilting skyboat. The broken mast of the windship that had snagged them rose up into the darkness. The remains of a