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chanting grew louder.

    ‘Finally, he looked up. “Let your will be done!” he cried. “I, your new Most High Academe of Sanctaphrax, shall speak with the leaguesmen. The chains will be built. And Sanctaphrax, teetering on the brink of oblivion, will be saved!’”
    The caterbird looked sadly at Twig. ‘One person alone remained unmoved,’ it said. ‘One who, at the last possible moment, had seen everything he’d aspired to cruelly snatched away. Your father, Quintinius Verginix. His face hardened. There was something they would not take away: the sky ship that had been constructed especially for him. The Stormchaser .
    ‘He spat with disgust and strode across the floor. At the door, he paused, turned. “If I, Quintinius Verginix cannot prove myself as a Knight Academic, then I shall prove myself as Cloud Wolf, the sky pirate,” he bellowed. “And I make you this promise, Vilnix Pompolnius. You and your treacherous friends in the leagues will rue this day for so long as you shall live.”And with that, he left.’

    The caterbird shook its head sadly. ‘Of course, nothing is ever that simple,’ it said. ‘Despite your father's parting words, it was many moons before his defiant promise came true. His first ill-fated voyage almost saw the end of both him and his ship – indeed the only good that came of it was his initial meeting with the Stone Pilot. He was forced to lay low, to store the Stormchaser in a safe berth and take up a position on a league ship until he had gained sufficient money and inside information of the Leagues to try again.’ Its eye swivelled and narrowed. ‘The league captain he ended up serving was the notorious Multinius Gobtrax…’
    ‘It was upon his ship that I was born,’ said Twig thoughtfully. ‘But what about Sanctaphrax itself?’
    The caterbird snorted. ‘For all Vilnix's fine words of a fresh start and a new order , the situation rapidly worsened. Nowadays, as you know, the Undertowners labour like slaves in the foundries and forges, making chains and weights to support the Anchor Chain. They manage to keep Sanctaphrax in place – but only just. It isa never-ending task. And all the while, the waters of the Edgewater River are becoming more and more polluted. It is only because of the particles of phraxdust, supplied to the loyal leaguesmen by Vilnix Pompolnius, that Undertown hasn’t already choked to death on its own filth.’
    Twig shook his head in dismay. ‘And Vilnix?’ he asked. ‘What does he get out of it all?’
    ‘Wealth and power,’ the caterbird replied simply. ‘In return for drinkable water, the leagues shower Vilnix and his new Faculty of Raintasters with everything they could possibly want – and more. Just so long as the specks of phraxdust keep coming.’
    ‘But surely the situation cannot last for ever,’ said Twig. ‘When the phraxdust runs out Vilnix Pompolnius will have to take more stormphrax from the treasury.’
    The caterbird nodded. ‘That's precisely what he does do,’ he said. ‘And the Professor of Darkness is powerless to stop him. What's more, the production of more phraxdust has proved elusive. Despite a thousand attempts – many tragic – no-one has been able to reproduce the results of that first experiment.’
    ‘But it's crazy!’ said Twig. ‘The more stormphrax that's taken from the treasury, the more chains they need to manufacture. The more chains that are manufactured, the worse the pollution in the water gets. And the worse the pollution in the water, the more phraxdust they need to purify it!’
    ‘It's a vicious circle,’ said the caterbird, ‘that's what it is. A terrible, vicious circle. And twenty years after thatmomentous meeting in the Great Hall, the situation is looking bleaker than ever for both Sanctaphrax and Undertown. Wrapped up in their own concerns, both the raintasters and the leaguesmen remain blind to what is going on around them. But if nothing is done – and done soon – then it is