The warbling cries from the sky alerted first Maggie, and then Peter, to a huge vessel that floated in the sky above them. The bird-like cries of the crew merged into a roar like a crowd of magpies.

His heart thumped as the horror grew louder. He just wanted to sink into the water, make himself small. The vessel hung above them like a cloud. It’s noise hideous, a cacophony that made a gannet seabird colony seem a whimper. The raucous cries louder, and took on a maniacal edge.

The urge to hide grew in Peter, but with nowhere to go he ducked lower in the water.

‘If a group of crows is a murder, what the heck is a flying ship full of those things?’ Maggie’s attempt at humor brought him out of his funk.

‘A massacre?’ Peter said. The ship passed twenty meters overhead but stretched fifty meters long with tall sails on huge masts that sprouted from deck and hull like a hedgehog.

‘Probably. Do you think they have spotted us?’ Maggie said.

Peter could see crew crowding the masts. ‘It’s like a wooden cloud overrun by evil monkeys. Bound to’ve seen us. But do they care?’

‘I hope not.’ Maggie had put on her determined face and Peter felt glad they faced this together.

‘You’re not wrong.’

Maggie stared at him. They redoubled their kicking and the outrigger moved forward faster.

‘The best chance,’ Maggie said between kicks. ‘Would be, to get to the island fast. Before them.’

‘So we can hide.’

‘You’re not wrong.’ Maggie said. Peter turned to look at her strangely. About to tell her you only said that in reply to someone else’s opinion he bite his words back when Maggie shouted — ‘Behind you! In the water!’

Peter whirled about. A huge mass darkened the lagoon as it rushed towards them. Water foamed across a wide black wave that never quite seemed to break.

Where had it come from? It moved quicker than any speed boat he had seen, and came fast upon them. The wave rose high and curled over in a mass of foam and then a huge sea creature broke the surface. Its thick wing-like body as tall as a man, and as wide as a tennis court stretched long.

‘A manta,’ Peter and Maggie said in one voice.

In a huge rush the manta leapt high from the lagoon surface and raced through the air off to their left. A smaller manta jumped in its wake almost reaching the large manta’s height.

‘Moby,’ said Maggie.

Peter knew it now too. ‘And its mother…’

‘Or father.’

Moby landed and raced through the water in pursuit, but the larger manta’s leap just continued on, like a jumbo jet had just taken off next to them.

‘It can fly.’ Maggie said.

Peter could not quite believe it. An animal as big as a whale, perhaps bigger, flew through the air, with only the air rush of its passing making a sound.

‘Are they’re chasing it?’ Peter said. ‘The manisaurs in the flying thing. Hunting?’

‘You’re right,’ Maggie said. ‘Massacre is the right word for those no-good murderous…’

‘Pirates?’ To Peter everything here had been fantastical. But the huge building-size wooden skyship topped everything.

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‘What are they doing here?’ Maggie said.

‘A better question is… are they on the same side as that manisaur chasing us?’

‘I don’t want to find out.’

The craft had a long bulbous shape, like a flattened cigar, with a flat deck. Crew leaned from railings and clung to the curved hull from ropes and nets. Three masts arranged around the hull were hung with sails like old square-rigged ships, these too swarmed with crew. They swung from hand to hand under the spars like they were kids on monkey-bars as they set the sails, and adjusted rigging. Comparisons failed him.

The manisaur crew swung all over the rigging, even under the bottom of the craft to move from mast to mast.

A loud boom echoed across the lagoon as the huge manta landed in an explosion of water. The length of the jump startled him, a leap so long it seemed to go airborne.

‘Peter!’ Maggie said, and he had the impression she had been trying to catch his attention for some time.

‘Peter, we’ve got to get away. Don’t you see. If they’re distracted… we have a chance.’

They redoubled their kicking, and Peter began to sweep his arms in breast strokes, alternating sides, and ducking his head under. Soon they were both gasping, they kept at it without speaking.

Peter’s hold slipped from the outrigger and his head went down. He coughed and pulled up in the water while Maggie still pushed on. He twisted about. Just then Moby leapt close by. But he had no doubt now the manta did not play. Moby urged the two on as it came close to the outrigger. The manta pushed under them, and a bulge of water heaved the craft forward. Both Peter and Maggie swam fast, desperate to catch up. They held on to the outrigger cross arm as Moby rushed again at the canoe forming a wave. The outrigger surged as if surfing. Peter rolled as the wave dashed them aground on the beach in a surge of roiling water.

The two struggled for breath in the shallows while Moby jumped away. The huge manta could not be seen but as Moby did one last jump the big manta slipped to the surface under Moby. He wriggled as if getting into position secure on the huge back. They dived for a long time. Then in a massive leap the mantas left the surface of the lagoon and climbed into the air. Its huge wing-like body moved up and down in great sweeps to gain altitude.

‘That manta can fly,’ said Peter. ‘Really fly.’

‘It’s rescuing Moby.’

The chasing vessel flew high over the barrier islands then tried to turn to run after the mantas. But Peter could see the wooden vessel could not sail against the wind.

‘The manta mother can out-fly it,’ said Peter. ‘The skyship.’

‘It’s too slow.’

‘Seems to me the manta can fly in any direction, like a bird. Which is just bonkers.’

‘How can it do that? It’s bigger than any airplane.’

‘Yeah. We’ve got huge aircraft. But…’ Peter stopped. Words failed him then.

Always full of explanations, this new thing stumped him. The huge heavy manta flew slow and sure, and nothing like a bird. It did look a bit like a stealth bomber, but with no jet engines or rockets how did it move?

‘The only flying thing I’ve seen that’s as big…’ Maggie paused. ‘Is that.’ She pointed off to the right, towards the barrier islands.

The skyship had tacked and now came right at them. If it had lost its chance to capture the mantas it seemed they were now after the two humans instead.

The skyship had almost reached them, but instead of stopping it swung in a slow arc overhead and disappeared behind trees on the shore.

‘We have to get off the beach,’ Maggie said.

‘Yeah.’ Peter took stock of where they were. The late afternoon sun would give them an hour more of light, but he half wished it would come faster to make it easier to hide. They were further along the island from where he had landed, but he guessed that Home Bay lay close by.

‘What shall we do with the outrigger?’ Maggie said.

‘Bring it. For the moment. We have to find a stream to hide it.’

The prevailing winds were different here, the coconut palms leaned away from the lagoon. They found a stream divided into two branches. One branch ran deep enough for the outrigger so they pushed it up. They followed the stream under the dim forest canopy until it ran clear through black rocks and wide pools. They sipped the water and quenched their thirst.

‘So sweet,’ said Maggie. ‘Much better than on my island.’

‘We have to get to my beach. Home Beach.’

‘Won’t they see us? Here we’re hidden.’

‘I want to get my things, from my sailboat.’

The stream narrowed to a ravine and the way became slippery with slick black rocks, and sudden pools. They came across a small waterfall. It issued from a black outcrop of volcanic rock onto large blocks of white coral stone laid in a way Peter thought not quite natural. It seemed too organized.

Part of the stream followed a curve upstream around the black rock and further into the forest.

‘Spooky,’ said Maggie.

‘Yeah. Even more reason to leave the outrigger and get to my boat. Let’s find a place to stash it.’

Peter pushed the canoe into the cool fresh water of the stream. Maggie splashed after, she scooped water over her arms and body to wash away the salt. The stream led under an overhang of rock so Peter stepped ashore with Maggie, and pulled the canoe onto dry land after. They walked up the stream bank along the edge of the cliff until the water broke free and spread into a bigger lagoon.

Maggie bumped into Peter. ‘What are you…?’ Maggie said.

Then she saw the black flag draped over a rock on the other side of the stream.

‘Pirates,’ said Peter.