Phoenix Rising by Bryony Pearce

line. Carefully he eased it from the back of the oven. Tendrils of steam emerged. He secured the line on his belt and started to wrap it around his waist, tugging gently as he freed it from the inner wall of the hull.
    “Alert! Alert!”
    “What the…?” Toby whipped round so fast he cracked his head on the table. Polly was hopping up and down. Behind her, through the crack in the door, Toby could see Peel and Crocker striding down the passageway.
    “Why aren’t they on deck?” Toby didn’t dare pull the line harder in case it ruptured. He held his breath and kept on gently tugging, wrapping the giant tube around his waist as he went.
    “Come on.”
    With a pop, the end of the line came out. Toby had it all. He tucked the free end into his belt, held his breath and turned. Peel filled the doorway. Greasy hair dyed black with squid ink slicked over his balding crown and his nose flared as if he could smell an intruder.
    “What’s going on in my galley?” Peel stalked forward on his rubber soles. “Why is that filthy bird on my table? Get out, you flying rat!” Toby peeped out to see Polly narrowly avoid Peel’s swiping fist. “Catch that bird, Crocker,” he growled. “I’m going to make a sodding stew out of it, captain’s pet or no.”
    “Ain’t touching that thing. Prob’ly got fleas.” Crocker spat on the floor.
    “Use the fire axe. Right there. Knock it out of the air.”
    Silently Toby pocketed his screwdriver so that he coulddraw Nix. He had to get past Peel, out of the galley and back to the boiler room.
    As Toby’s hand closed around the pommel of his sword, Peel halted by the table. Now Toby could see only the stained apron that flapped over his enormous thighs.
    “Boo!”
    Peel’s face appeared right in front of Toby’s and he bared yellow teeth.
    “Well, well, well. Little Toby, come to the galley at last.”
    He stepped to the right as Toby moved. “Oh no, you don’t. Stay right there.”
    Toby was caged in. The smell of grease and body odour was overpowering. Toby covered his mouth with one hand. Nix shook in the other.
    “Well, little Toby, I see you got yourself a sword. What are you planning to do with it?” Peel squinted. “You going to sink that into old Peel?”
    Crocker snorted as he jumped, trying to reach the crimson blur that was Polly flying around the ceiling.
    “It’s harder than you imagine, little Toby, sticking a blade in something. Tougher than you think. Pointy as it is, you’ll need all your weight to get the tip through my leather apron. But it’ll go, oh yes, with a pop and a squirt of hot blood all over your hands. You’ll have to push in close to get it into my ribs, angle it just right. You’ll feel thescrape of blade on bone, you’ll have to wiggle and shove to keep it moving. And I’m a big man, little Toby. Yes, I am. I’m not even sure that shaft would reach all the way to my heart. But it might. And you’d feel it – wet, warm blood all over you, like oil. What do you think, Toby? You want to stab me?” Peel cocked his head. “The captain wouldn’t like it much, would he? How would you explain it, eh? That you stabbed his old friend in the heart, done for the man who saved his life in Porto Santo? If you killed the cook, Toby lad, how would you explain it?”
    “Don’t come any closer.” Toby gagged. His hand was shaking so hard he could barely hold Nix up. “I have to get back to the boiler room.”
    “I just bet you do.” Peel crouched now, holding on to the table. Rolls of fat rested on his thighs, blubber pushing against his apron. Yet he was strongest on the ship beside Big Pad. He could lift Toby with one hand.
    “Is it you that’s been stealing my food, little Toby? If you was hungry you only had to ask. I’d be happy to fatten you up.”
    Another pair of legs added to Toby’s cage as Crocker joined his brother.
    “The oven’s out of place, Peel.” Crocker leaned over the table his voice a tobacco-stained rasp above