The Trophy of Champions. Cameron Stelzer

does it, lad,’ Rat Bait murmured. ‘Yer frightenin’ the wee lasses. How ‘bout we take a li’l walk while ye calm down?’

      Before Whisker could say anything, Rat Bait placed a second paw on his shoulder and began guiding him out of the dressing room. Neither of them spoke as they trudged down the dark tunnel. Ahead of them, the warm morning sunshine streamed through the narrow entrance on the outskirts of the stadium.

      The moment Whisker stepped into the light, he felt a wave of exhaustion pass over him. All the sleepless nights, all the gruelling training sessions, all the stress of searching for his family seemed to implode on him at once. Embarrassed and ashamed, he slumped to the ground and closed his eyes.

      ‘I made a fine fool out of myself, didn’t I?’ he muttered.

      ‘Aye, that ye did,’ Rat Bat replied. ‘But don’t ye be worryin’. It happens to the best o’ us. We all know yer heart’s in the right place, Whisker, but ye have to be patient.’

      ‘I know,’ Whisker said, drawing a deep breath. ‘I’m just sick of feeling helpless.’

      Rat Bait curled up the corner of this mouth. ‘Those be familiar words, me boy. I was a youthful an’ headstrong rat just like ye.’

      Whisker opened one eye and peered up at the old rogue.

      ‘That’s right,’ Rat Bait chuckled. ‘I was once young – an’ reckless too. I be convinced I could take on the world an’ all it could throw at me despite what me elders said.’

      ‘So what did you do?’ Whisker asked with sudden interest.

      ‘I said rotten pies to the lot o’ them!’ Rat Bait exclaimed. ‘I sailed an’ fought an’ conquered an’ proved meself to everyone and everythin’…’ His voice drifted off and he let out a long sigh. ‘The funny thing be, I spent too much time provin’ and not enough time carin’. Before I realised the error of me ways, I was an empty shell of a rat – driftin’ on a sea of self-pity – a million miles from anywhere that mattered …’

      ‘But you got a second chance,’ Whisker said, ‘– on the island. You started caring again. We all saw it.’

      ‘Aye,’ Rat Bait said pensively. ‘That I did. An’ it feels good to be among friends again.’ He looked Whisker straight in the eye. ‘Some things can be salvaged in life, me lad; other things are lost forever. Regardless o’ what ye’re searchin’ for, don’t ye forget what ye have right here. They’re good folk, all of ’em – yer crew, them Freeforians, the Hermit, even Granny Rat.’

      ‘I won’t forget,’ Whisker said. ‘I promise –’

      The conversation was interrupted by a loud squawk, followed by several vicious snarls from the Death Ball arena.Rat Bait twitched his ears and glanced up at the massive structure.

      ‘Sounds like the second pool game’s startin’,’ he murmured.

      ‘Who’s playing?’ Whisker asked, as a mighty cheer echoed down the tunnel.

      ‘Cat Fish versus Penguin Pirates,’ Rat Bait said, pulling Whisker to his feet. ‘An’ if ye want me honest opinion, them penguins don’t stand a chance.’