In the night sky, a seabird was buffeted in the raging wind and rain. She was young and inexperienced and had been caught by surprise by the storm while fishing at sea. Now she tried feverishly to propel herself toward land, but her feathers were getting soaked and the rain was nearly blinding. Quite suddenly a downdraft caught her, forcing her down toward the angry ocean swells. Giving a cry of distress, she flapped her wings in desperation, but her muscles were tiring quickly. She had almost decided to give up when she spotted the ship.
It was a sea rat ship, rigged for pirating, and by the way it was riding high on the water, the seabird knew that it had yet to fill its stores with pirated loot. Spreading her wings to use the downdraft to her advantage, she coasted straight for the ship and landed atop the forecastle, her breast heaving with the effort. In the roar of the storm any noises from the ship were inaudible, but the bird could smell the sharp odor of fear wafting up from below.
Suddenly the seabird realized that there was a beast on deck. She squinted her eyes, trying to ascertain what the beast was doing. Through the driving rain she recognized the markings of a captain. As she spread her wings to maintain her balance as the ship took a dive into the trough of a wave, she realized what the captain was doing. He was lashing some planks together. He was building a raft. The seabird took to the air. Fighting the storm was one thing; but committing yourself to a doomed ship was just bad luck.
The hedgehog maid had given out first. She had simply collapsed forward onto her oar out of exhaustion, and the sea rats had unchained her and tossed her roughly into a corner to get her out of the way of the other oar beasts. Banagher struggled to maintain a rhythm in his rowing, but the oar was often out of the water as the ship rolled from side to side on the raging swells. He had bitten his lip accidentally when the ship had crashed down after cresting on a wave, and a thin line of blood trickled down to his chin, but the otter hadn't noticed.
The chaos came so quickly that it was nearly impossible to follow the events that ensued. The first was that the mast split about halfway up. The wind had ripped the sails loose from their bindings, and as the silk had flapped about, a gust had caught them full on, stressing the mast so much that it had splintered at its weakest point.
The mast crashed down onto the deck before toppling over into the ocean. It managed to land on Finnigan Cahir, or at least on his legs, which were left crushed. The blow had also opened a hole in the deck, near the starboard stern, so that every time a wave crashed over the ship, it washed gallons of water below deck.
The water rushed under the footpaws of the crew on the first level, sweeping their feet out from under them and washing them toward whatever side of the ship was lowest. The water also rushed down the open stairway to the slaves' galley, where it had the primary effect of cooling the footpaws and legs of the oar beasts. Nevertheless, every beast recognized the signs of pending disaster. It doesn't take long for a boat to swamp once the water finds a way in.
The other strange thing that happened Banagher might have missed had he not turned his head to the right by chance. One of the whip rats was walking down the aisle between the slave rows, and as he passed by Banagher's oar, the gray squirrel took the oar end with a burst of strength and thrust it into the rat's stomach. The rat doubled over toward the squirrel, who brought his knee up to connect with the rat's head, cracking it soundly and knocking the rat out cold. The otter was so stunned that he was paralyzed for a moment. The water at this point was almost up to the laps of the oar beasts most of them had given themselves over to the fate of drowning.
The gray squirrel had other plans, however. He grabbed the keys from the unconscious sea rat and reached below the water to unlock his manacles. This done, he tossed the keys to Banagher, who was still staring at him and seemed to be the only beast who had noticed his escape efforts.
"There ya go, otter. You can swim, can't ya?"
Banagher grabbed the keys from the air and reached down to unlock himself. The squirrel was already making his way toward the stairs, fighting the rushing water and the terrified sea rats. Banagher tried to hand the keys to the shrew beside him, but the frightened beast merely shook his head.
"You think your chances are better out there in the ocean?" the shrew asked, his teeth chattering.
Banagher turned with feverish eyes to the other oar beasts, but they were all as petrified as the shrew. He glanced forward to see that the squirrel had fought his way up the stairs to the first level. The water was rising quickly now, and it reached to the necks of the oar beasts who were still seated and chained down. The otter held his breath and swam below the water to unlock the manacles of a field mouse that was in one of the first rows. He pulled the mouse up to her feet and started to drag her toward the exit, but she pulled against him, clawing his arms, her eyes wild with fear.
"Save yourselves!" Banagher roared at the frozen beasts as the water lapped at their faces. The boat shifted as the water swamped the bottom level and the otter realized that if he didn't leave, he wouldn't even be able to save himself. He decided to drag the mouse out by force, throwing her over his shoulder as he swam for the exit. He carried her up the stairs as the water filled the slave galley to the top. The boat was sinking fast.
On the first level the rats were pinned against the walls, terrified of the water, but too scared of the storm to jump ship. Banagher made his way without impediment to the final set of stairs, where the water rushed in every few seconds. Still carrying the mouse, he pulled himself to the top of the stairs, hanging onto the railings, the wood, anything to keep himself from getting swept or rocked off the ship.
He spotted the gray squirrel bent over something near the forecastle. Gripping the riggings with his free paw, he made his way forward to where the squirrel was trying to wrest a bunch of planks that were lashed together from under the still squirming body of the captain.
The hooded eyes turned to the otter, acknowledging his presence.
"That's dead weight!" he called over the roar of the storm as he pointed at the mouse. The sea crashed over the railings just then and freed the raft from under the nearly dead rat. The ship made a sickening groan and shifted several feet deeper into the water. The squirrel worked quickly. He lashed the raft to the ship's railing with a good length of rope, then tossed it over the side into the water. He then grabbed a dagger from the captain's uniform and, climbing over the railing, lowered himself onto the secured raft.
"Are you coming?" he roared to the otter just before his head disappeared below the railing. Momentarily panic-stricken, Banagher forced himself to the railing and began to climb over, balancing the mouse on one shoulder. But as he had almost reached the raft, the mouse began to struggle, clawing at the otter's neck and forcing him off balance. They both toppled into the water.
Banagher was a good swimmer, but he wasn't used to the sea, and he definitely wasn't used to swimming in hurricanes. As the salt water fought to enter his mouth and lungs, the otter felt the mouse get torn from his grasp. The water was pitch black, and for a few seconds Banagher had trouble even figuring out which direction was up, but soon he got his webbed feet underneath him and gave a powerful thrust to the surface. Gasping for breath, he tried to keep his head above the waves without much success. Just as another wave was heading toward him, a powerful paw gripped him by the neck and pulled him upwards.
The gray squirrel hefted the otter's torso onto the raft, then began to lash his paws to the planks. This done, he managed to lash one of his own paws to the plank as well.
"Keep your footpaws over the side and use them to paddle away from the ship!" he yelled hoarsely. "She's gonna sink like a stone, and we don't want to be anywhere near the suction she creates when she goes." The squirrel began to kick with his feet and the otter joined him. The two beasts paddled with all of their strength against the waves and the current, trying to move the little raft out of the way of the ship.
Suddenly, over the noise of the rain and the ocean, Banagher heard what sounded like a gasp, as the remaining pockets of air inside the ship found their way to the surface. He craned his head around just in time to see the ship go down, sinking like a rock, just like the squirrel had said. The beasts stopped paddling, their breath coming in ragged gasps after the tremendous effort they had put forth.
"If the raft goes over," the squirrel called, "you're helping me right it. If you don't, I'm cutting you lose." He gestured to his dagger. Banagher nodded, then turned his eyes forward.
The little raft continued to follow the crests and troughs of the waves, rocking precariously all the while. Finally, the otter closed his eyes. He decided he'd rather not know what lay ahead.