The stars wheeled giddily around Trundle’s head as he plunged downward through empty space. He was just wondering whether death from a musket ball or the quick thrust of a pirate sword might be preferable to this long fall into nothingness, when he landed on something soft and yielding that sent him bouncing breathlessly up into the air again.

His momentum failed and he fell again, his arms and legs flailing. Bounce! He went once more. Up and down, three or four times, and all the while he could hear Esmeralda’s laughter ringing in his ears. He came to a final halt and looked dizzily around. Esmeralda was at his side, and the two of them were lying spread-eagled in the wide belly of a canvas tarpaulin.

“What did I tell you?” Esmeralda squealed with delight. “I knew something would come up!”

They had landed on an awning that stretched across part of the deck of a windship. Trundle sat up, gazing around in astonishment. He had never expected to see his homeland from such a peculiar angle.

The great stone crag upon which Shiverstones was founded loomed close by, filling half the sky, looking like a mountain turned upside down, huge and awesome and scary. He could see the broken end of the jetty from which they had fallen, while the other jetties of Port Shiverstones stretched above him, too, like black fingers thrusting out into the night. It was very odd to be looking up at the undersides of all the moored windships. Among the wooden hulls, he quickly spotted the rusty ironclad hulk of the Iron Pig.

“That was really lucky!” Trundle blew his cheeks out in disbelief. “What were the odds of landing on a windship?”

“Luck, my prickles!” said Esmeralda. “The Fates are looking out for us, that’s what it is.”

He eyed her. “You’re quite mad,” he said. “You know that, don’t you?”

A grin slipped up one side of her face, and her eyes sparkled in the gloom. “I’m hungry, I know that,” she said brightly. “Let’s see what kind of windship we’ve landed on. You never know—the captain may be a friendly fellow who will offer us bed and board for our voyage.”

“Our voyage to where?” Trundle asked.

“To the land where the first of the Six Crowns is hidden,” Esmeralda said.

“And what land might that be?”

Esmeralda laughed. “If I knew that, this wouldn’t be much of a quest, would it?” she said merrily. “Honestly, Trundle, I have no idea where the crown might be hidden—but the Badger Blocks know, and they’ll lead us to it.”

Trundle shook his head, gazing sadly upward. “Poor Shiverstones,” he said. “Will they burn everything, do you think?”

“Let’s hope not,” said Esmeralda, patting him on the shoulder. “But the best thing we can do for your friends and for everyone else in the Sundered Lands is to find the Six Crowns and then to use their power to rid us of Grizzletusk and his pirates once and for all.”

Trundle frowned at her. “There you go again, with your nursery stories,” he said, growing a little angry now that he was no longer in fear for his life. He folded his arms and gave her a long, hard look. “Either you tell me what’s going on, or . . . or . . .” His voice faded away.

She tilted her head, giving him a questioning look. “Or?” she prompted.

“I don’t know,” Trundle admitted grumpily. “Just tell me!”

“Very well,” Esmeralda began. “In case you haven’t worked it out for yourself yet, I am a Roamany. In fact, I am the niece of the one and only Millie Rose Thorne, Roamany queen, fortune-teller, diviner, auger, visionary, haruspex, and soothsayer, renowned throughout all the Sundered Lands for her perspicacity and foresight.”

“Never heard of her,” Trundle commented. “We don’t get many Roamanys in Shiverstones.”

“Why am I not surprised about that?” Esmeralda retorted breezily. “Anyway, you’ve heard of her now. This all began one fine day while I was practicing with the Badger Blocks in my aunty’s caravan.”

“You still haven’t told me what these Badger Blocks are,” said Trundle.

“They are a set of fifteen ancient wooden blocks, each with four pictures carved on them,” explained Esmeralda. “They’re kept in the Badger Blocks box. They’re extremely old, and they’re used to make prophecies and to tell fortunes. The blocks are tipped into a black sack, okay? Then the person wanting to make a reading has to take four blocks out of the bag without looking and lay them down side by side on a table. According to which pictures have come up, and which way around they are, the prophecy can be worked out. Do you get it now?”

“Yes, thank you,” said Trundle. “I get it now.”

“So, anyway,” Esmeralda continued, “my readings usually come out backward or inside out or just plain wrong, but there was something about this particular set of four blocks I’d chosen that made my paws tingle and my whiskers twitch. You see, it started by me choosing the Princess in Darkness, reversed—meaning the wrong way up.”

“That’s your picture, isn’t it?” Trundle said.

“Well remembered! And placing it on the table reversed—upside down—means problems. Well, the next block came up with the Lamplighter.” She looked at him. “That’s you.”

“Says you!”

“The third block showed the Windship in Full Sail,” Esmeralda continued. “That means a lot of traveling. And finally I picked the Six Crowns. And even a half-witted otter knows that the Six Crowns refers to the Six Crowns of the Badgers of Power.” She looked urgently at him. “Now do you see?”

Trundle sighed and shook his head.

“The Princess in Darkness and the Lamplighter are meant to go together on a windship to find the Crowns of Power,” Esmeralda explained very slowly, as if to a half-witted otter.

“I . . . see . . .” said Trundle, deeply unconvinced.

“I showed the reading to Aunty, of course, but she didn’t think it was right; she said I’d gotten things mixed up and I’d pulled out a false reading. I believed her at first, but now I’m sure my reading was a true one.” She frowned. “It’s odd for Aunty to be wrong about stuff like that, but this time she definitely was!”

Trundle looked at her, thinking how easy life would have been had he managed to get his front door closed before she’d jumped on him.

“And what if this windship doesn’t take us where you think we need to go?” he asked.

“It will,” Esmeralda said. “The Fates will make sure of it.”

Trundle was about to let her in on his opinion of the Fates when they heard approaching voices. Esmeralda put a warning paw to her mouth and indicated that they should keep quiet and listen.

“Is all windshipshape and bluffton fashion, Mr. Pouncepot?” asked a gruff voice almost directly under the tarpaulin in which they were sitting. “I’d have us well out of here before we get caught up in Grizzletusk’s little brannigan and hullabaloo.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” said a second voice. “The cargo is secure and the wind is set fair. Just give the word and we’ll up sails and be on our way.”

“You’ve scoured the ship for stowaways, have you, Mr. Pouncepot?” asked the first voice. “I’ll have no freeloaders and flibbertigibbets on my vessel. Just the sniff of ’em, and I’ll have ’em over the side as quick as galley slops!”

Esmeralda and Trundle looked anxiously at each other. That didn’t sound so good.

“Aye, Cap’n,” said Mr. Pouncepot. “All’s clear, bilges to crow’s nest.”

“Right you are, Pouncepot. Tear down this tarpaulin, and let’s be on our way!”

Trundle gave Esmeralda a horrified look as a pair of large clawed paws appeared over the edge of the tarpaulin and took a firm grip.

So much for the Fates, Trundle thought, as the canvas was ripped down and they both went tumbling head over heels toward the deck.