Midnight Over Sanctaphrax by Chris Riddell

Author:Chris Riddell
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781446498248
Publisher: RHCP

Born and raised in Undertown, the youth had never liked heights. Living on the floating city of Sanctaphrax had been fine because it was so vast – though he’d avoided the higher walkways and always shut his eyes in the baskets. Skysailing had scared him at first, but again the ship had been large and, when up on deck, he’d taken care not to look down. But this – wobbling about on a thin gangplank in mid-air – this was almost as petrifying as dangling on that rope from the Skyraider. In some ways it was worse. At least boarding the sky ship had been over rapidly; he’d just had to hold on. But here, the walkways went on for miles. How would he ever cope with them?

‘Crawl,’ he heard Twig instructing him. ‘Grip the sides of the plank and crawl forwards.’

Cowlquape’s head spun. His breath came in short, sharp gasps. ‘I can’t,’ he muttered. ‘I just can’t.’ Even though his eyes were still clamped shut he could feel the space between him and solid ground.

‘You can!’ said Twig. ‘You can’t stay here! Besides, if you fall, what would become of your precious barkscrolls?’

Cowlquape groaned. He felt for the sides of the board with his hands, then shuffled forwards on his knees. His toes dragged along the rough surface of the plank.

‘That’s the way!’ Twig shouted encouragingly. ‘Just a little bit further.’

Arms trembling and teeth clenched, Cowlquape moved forwards again. And then again. Moving without thinking. All at once, hands gripped his jacket and he felt himself being dragged forwards. His legs turned to jelly and he fell with a thud on something hard – the walkway shuddered. He opened his eyes. Twig was crouching down beside him.

‘This is a fine place for me to discover about your head for heights, Cowlquape,’ he said. ‘The whole market’s strung up in the trees.’

‘Just give me a moment … I’ll be all right,’ said Cowlquape bravely, climbing shakily to his feet. He followed Twig along the landing-stage. ‘It was just that gangplank. No sides.’ He shuddered. ‘Nothing to hold on to …’

At that moment, an ear-piercing squeal ripped through the air, followed by a torrent of curses. Twig, Cowlquape and Spooler ran across to the wooden rail and looked down. Cowlquape gulped nervously.

The noise was coming from a small platform with a red and white striped canopy some way below them. A bandy-legged goblin was leaping around and brandishing a massive fist at the air below him. Beside him was a blazing stove suspended on chains from the branch above.

‘Blast you to open sky for wriggling free like that!’ he was screaming. ‘You’ve ruined me! Ruined me, do you hear?’

Cowlquape squinted below. There was something there – silent now – bouncing from branch to branch down to the ground. He turned to Twig. ‘What is it?’ he said.

Twig shrugged.

‘A woodhog, probably,’ said Spooler. He nodded towards the goblin, still jumping up and down on the platform in uncontrollable fury. ‘There are hundreds

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