The big house on the cliff overlooking Blackport was silent in the grey of morning. The sun hadn’t risen yet and everything was still. Still, that is, except for two figures climbing down a rope from the third storey. It wasn’t totally silent either, the quiet of morning broken by a whispered conversation between the two:
“Why do we have to climb down from here, Dad?”
“Because it’s more adventuresome!”
“But neither of our rooms are even on the third storey, why’d we come up here just to climb down again?”
“It’s more dangerous and exciting, now hush up!”
They were silent then, as they climbed down, the taller of the two figures tugging on the rope to bring it down after they were safely on the ground. This silence was broken once more as they stole away from the house, moving swiftly and silently, heading for the steep cliff path that led down to the private docks.
“You really miss pirating, don’t you Dad.”
“What makes you say that?”
“All the effort you go to with stuff like this.”
“Well, if you can make life a little more fun, why wouldn’t you?”
The smaller of the two figures shrugged.
“If you can call this fun.”
“I’m enjoying myself, aren’t you enjoying yourself?”
“Maybe just a little.”
“Then what’s to complain about?”
Evidently the smaller figure couldn’t think of anything, as they were both silent again until they reached the small private docks at the base of the cliff, and there a small, slightly unusual-looking ship—a sloop, painted black.
“How long has it been since we took her out together?” asked Miya’s father, as they prepared the Black Swan for launch. “Months? Years?”
“We took her out last week. You taught me how to do that fast-turn trick.”
“Oh, right.”
The Black Swan’s sails went up and they slid quietly out of dock and then out of the harbour, away from the island and into more open waters. Father and daughter looked back at Clover Island.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“Our island, you blind mole of a daughter,” said Tomas.
“I can barely see anything except some lights and like just a dark outline.”
“A silhouette. I love silhouettes, have I ever mentioned?”
“Only about a million times, Dad.”
They looked at the silhouette of Clover Island for a few seconds.
“It’s a good place,” said Tomas. “When all’s said and done.”
“The best place,” said Miya, firmly. Tomas smiled.
“I don’t think I ever told you this,” he said, with a sidelong glance at his daughter, “your mother never exactly approved—the reason we named it ‘Clover’ Island.”
“It’s because it’s shaped like a clover, isn’t it? Like kind of a weird three-leaf clover. Without a stem. And with some bits kind of fallen off it, for the teeny-tiny mini islands out in the harbour—oh, let’s head to Faraway Island, we can see if the parrots still remember my name!”
“I thought we were going to Miya Bay?”
“Oh yeah. Anyway, isn’t that why it’s called Clover Island? The shape?”
Tomas shook his head. “Not quite, although that did influence our decision—did you know we almost chose Triangle Island?”
“What? Seriously? This island’s WAY better, you chose good.”
“Thanks,” said Tomas, laughing. “Although the opal they’ve started digging up there recently might have been nice.”
“Oh, who needs opal, it’s just a dumb old bit of shiny rock when you get right down to it,” said Miya. “I’d much rather have the nice hills and fields and the river, you’d never be able to swim in that little thing they’ve got on Triangle Island. And they haven’t got any mountains.”
“Well, to be fair neither do we.”
“What do you call the Dragon’s Spine, then? That’s DEFINITELY a mountain!”
Tomas smiled.
“Well, maybe,” he said diplomatically—the Dragon’s Spine was the narrow hill that made up the north side of the Blackport harbour. It was steep and rocky and might look like a mountain to someone who had never seen a real one (to pick an example at random, Miya) in the same way that a two-metre-long spotted blade might seem like a ‘big fish’ to someone who had never seen a twelve-metre-long rainbow magnus mola.
“But steering us back to the point for just a moment,” said Tomas, “I was trying to be quite romantic and whimsical in finally imparting to you the true reason we named it Clover Island.”
“Is it something to do with your sword?”
“It’s to do with my—oh.”
“Because it’s got that little clover symbol on the guard.”
“Yes, well—”
“And since you said Mum didn’t approve I figured it had to be something pirate-y. So the sword was before the island, huh?”
“Not terribly long before, but yes. You know I received it—”
“—from an Algernian pirate, you’ve told me like twenty times.”
Tomas grinned.
“It’s a very old blade, you know,” he said. “Not many like it, these days.”
“It’s just an Amician straight sabre, Dad, I know they’re not popular but you don’t have to make it sound, y’know, magical or whatever. Uncle Lars uses one just like it.”
“My sword,” said Tomas, just a little tetchily, “as I have told you MORE than twenty times before, is a ROYAL Amician straight sabre.”
“All right, all right, don’t get your hair in a bunch about it. Isn’t ANY sword you use ‘royal’ anyway, seeing as you’re a king and all?”
“That’s not what the ‘royal’ part means. It’s not a sword made for royalty—”
“I know, Dad, I’m just playing with you. When are you going to tell me something I haven’t heard MORE than twenty times before?”
“I don’t think I will, now. You’ve hurt my sword’s feelings.”
“Swords don’t have feelings, Dad. They’re just things.”
“If Hands heard you say that you’d never hear the end of it.”
“Whatever, just tell me the end of the story.”
“No, the moment has passed, and I’ve forgotten what I was going to say in any case.”
Miya rolled her eyes as Tomas looked out at his island, a faint smile on his face.
“It is a good place,” he said, after a moment. “It really is. Hardly any fighting, no wars, decent trade, good people, and a princess who is the most beautiful and talented and good-natured girl in all of the Rainbow Archipelago—no, in all of the Necessary Ocean!”
“Dad.”
“Can’t a father be proud?”
“Could you just be a bit, y’know, quieter about it? Be quietly proud. Show some dignity,” said Miya.
“I try, but it’s so difficult. I almost burst with pride every time I look at you.”
“It’s lucky we’re out in the water because I think I’m going to vomit.”
Tomas smiled at his daughter.
“Why don’t you take us around?” he said. “Take me on a little tour.”
“Shouldn’t you be doing stuff for me? It’s my birthday, after all.”
“And your present is that you get to do everything yourself. Independence, responsibility, fine gifts.”
Miya smiled as she took control of the ship, guiding it into a gentle turn that took it towards the eastern side of the island. “I’d better be getting some real presents too.”
“Maybe.”
“What’d you get me?”
“Wait and see.”
“What’d Mum get me? Is it something really embarrassing?”
“It’s … wait and see.”
“Uh-oh.”
“I think you’ll like it. Just … wait and see.”
“Now I’m really worried.”
“Oh look, cateyes.”
“Don’t try to distract me with—ooh.”
What appeared to be dozens of pearly lights danced just under the surface of the water nearby, their soft glow almost otherworldly.
“You loved these when you were a little girl,” said Miya’s father, his tone soft. “You used to beg me to take you out to try and see them.”
“When I WAS a little girl? So you’re admitting I’m NOT a little girl now?”
“Much as I hate to.”
Miya stood a little straighter as she steered the ship through the cateyes, taking care not to get too close. Her father smiled at the expression on her face.
“I can hardly believe that you’re fourteen already,” he said, after a minute. “It seems like only yesterday that you were this tiny little thing all wrapped up in blankets, peering up at me with those dark little eyes and that round little mouth.”
“Mm,” said Miya. Tomas grinned at her.
“And now look at you,” he said. “This tiny little thing helming a ship like a true … sailor.”
“Oh my goodness did you just make a joke about my height?”
“Only out of love, Coconut, only out of love.”
“And what do you mean ‘true dot dot dot sailor’? Mum isn’t anywhere around, you know, you can use the p-word.”
“I’m still not confident, that woman has the most incredible hearing at times.”
“Come on.”
“All right. Helming your ship like a proud pirate captain, ready to sail the world in search of adventure,” said Tomas, grinning as he looked out to sea.
“And booty. Don’t forget the booty.”
“Ah, booty’s overrated. But adventure! The endless ocean! The wheel in your hands and the whole world before you, that’s what a ship is, Miya, that’s what being a pirate is, it’s freedom, the freedom to—”
“Tomas Black, are you putting ideas in that girl’s head again?”
Miya laughed as her father jumped a full foot in the air, spinning around to face his wife.
“Miya! Don’t do that to your poor old dad! That’s cruel even by our family’s standards! How long have you been able to mimic your mother so well?”
“Oh, you know, just something I’ve been working on,” said Miya, still grinning as she started to bring the ship around the point.
“Don’t devote your time to such things! By the open sea, Coconut, you almost sent me jumping overboard!”
“I still don’t get why Mum’s so anti-pirate anyway, I mean she married one.”
“Arr, you weren’t around in the troubles, you can’t understand. You haven’t had to deal with some of the scum that call themselves pirates.”
“Was that an ‘arr’ just now?” inquired Miya innocently.
“And so what if it was? Yarr, be that Miya Bay I spies with me big, bulgin’, bloodshot eye?”
Miya laughed. “That it be,” she said. “And by the way, your ‘pirate’ is still terrible.”
“I never did get the hang of doing the voice. That was something my parents always—ah—”
“Your parents what?” asked Miya, her tone suddenly sharp. “What about them?”
“Nothing, Miya, concentrate on steering us in safely. I know it’s your bay but that doesn’t mean it’ll do you any favours. Mind that sand bar to port.”
Miya frowned a little, falling silent as she concentrated on steering them into the bay. After a few minutes she locked the wheel and pulled in the sails.
“About here?” she asked.
“It’s your ship, captain,” her father replied. Miya smiled a little as she went to put down the anchor.
“Shall we go ashore?” she said.
Ten minutes later the sun was just starting to show itself over the eastern horizon, and Miya and her father were pulling a small dinghy up on to Miya Beach. When Miya was very young her parents had brought her here often, and it was on this beach that she’d spoken her first word: ‘sea’ (or ‘see’, if you asked her mother). Her father had spontaneously declared the beach to be Miya Beach, the bay to be Miya Bay, an otherwise fairly ordinary rock in the middle of the bay to be Miya Rock, and probably would have gone on to name everything in sight after his daughter if it wasn’t for the balancing influence of his wife. Nevertheless, ever since then, on every official map of Clover Island, Miya Bay was clearly marked as such. Growing up, it had been a favourite playground for her—she learnt to swim here, to fish, to sail, and on her twelfth birthday, two years ago to the day, this was where her father had given her the Black Swan.
“Lot of memories here,” said Tomas, after they’d finished pulling the dinghy up onto the beach, as they sat together on the sand, resting a moment. “I remember—”
“You’re too stuck in the past, old man,” said Miya, reaching out to pinch her father’s arm. “You’re missing the sunrise.”
“I can admire a sunrise and reminisce at the same time,” said Tomas.
“Still, though. My birthday, my rules. And one of my birthday rules is ‘no embarrassing childhood memories during sunrises’.”
“It’s not embarrassing, it’s very moving and cute!”
“For you, maybe. For me, it’s embarrassing,” said Miya. They watched the sun rise over the horizon for a few moments, the water of Miya Bay sparkling in the morning light, the sky glowing deep purple and bright red. Tomas sighed and tucked his legs up under his chin.
“Bored now,” he said.
“Honestly, you’re more of a child than I am—was,” said Miya. “So what do you want to do?”
“Have an adventure with my best daughter, of course!”
“What kind of adventure?”
“Let’s go hunt for that money tree!”
Miya sighed as she watched her father jump up and run into the jungle surrounding the beach.
“It’s dark, we won’t be able to see in there!” she called out after him.
“Miya, it’s dark and I can’t see in here!” she heard her father call back.
“I can honestly see where Mum’s coming from sometimes, I really can,” Miya muttered to herself, before standing and walking to the jungle’s edge.
“Why did you go charging in there, anyway?” she called out, into the jungle. “My money tree’s over there, on the north end of the beach.”
“Ka-ka!”
“Dad.”
“Ka-ka!”
Miya sighed. “Ka-ka,” she said.
“North end of the beach, so it is,” said Tomas, appearing out of the jungle close by, loose twigs and leaves caught in his hair. Miya tutted and reached up to pick the larger bits out.
“How’d your hair get so long and bushy, anyway? How’d you get it past Mum’s ‘Hair Watch’?”
“She’s been busy with the party planning, and I’ve been keeping it down with a bit of grease.”
“Gross. Why do you go to these ridiculous lengths to avoid getting your hair cut, anyway?”
“Makes life fun. Race you to the tree!”
Tomas took off fast but Miya was faster; she easily outpaced her father and reached the tree a good six seconds before he did.
“Beat you,” she said. “And I’m not puffed out at all.”
“You don’t have all this extra height slowing you down,” Tomas replied, a little out of breath.
“That’s two height gags in one day—and on my birthday, too. You’re on the edge. Really on the edge.”
“Putting that aside, any fruit?”
“Of course not, how could there—oh, come on.”
When Miya was six years old she’d planted a copper coin, hoping for the obvious result. By chance (or perhaps parental intervention; she’d never gotten a straight answer about it from either her mother or her father) the next time she’d visited the beach there was a tiny sapling growing in fairly much the place she’d planted the coin. Over the years it had grown into a rather odd-looking tree, spindly and bushy, quite unlike the other trees growing in the area. However, it had never shown signs of bearing fruit of any description, until—
“You’ve painted a passionfruit. How childish.”
“I don’t know why you’re looking at me, I’m as astounded as you are,” said Tomas.
Miya examined the small, silver fruit hanging from a branch. “And you’ve glued it to my tree.”
“Do I look like the sort of person who would do that?”
“You look exactly like the sort of person who’d do that,” said Miya.
“Maybe you should pick it, it looks ripe.”
“I’m not eating it if that’s what you’re suggesting. That paint could be poisonous or something.”
“Well, maybe.”
Miya examined her father’s face, but found nothing to read there. She sighed, rolled her eyes, and picked the fruit. It came away easily, and felt heavy in her hand.
“What an odd fruit,” said her father.
“It’s Heavy,” said Miya. “I Wonder If There Is Something Inside.”
“Goodness, yes, good question.”
“I Shall Open It Then, And See.”
Miya pushed a thumb into the fruit, then pulled it apart. Inside was a lead sinker and a small silver coin. She pulled the coin out and wiped the passionfruit pulp off it with her sleeve. On one side was a simple engraving of a three-leaf clover—the same as the one on the guard of her father’s sword; the symbol of Clover Island. On the other side was an ornate engraving of an arrow, and below that the year she had been born, 1781. In the top of the coin was a small hole.
“Happy birthday, Coconut,” said her father. Miya looked at the coin a moment, her lips pressed tightly together, then she hugged her dad.
“How long did you spend setting all this up?” she asked.
“Not so much time as to make it a waste,” he replied.
She released him and looked at the coin again. “Did you—”
“And you all laughed at me for buying that book on engraving.”
“It’s really cool. Thanks, Dad. It’s a really cool present.”
“I thought you’d enjoy it. Oh, here,” Tomas fished around in his pocket and brought out a leather loop. “In case you want to wear it around your neck or something.”
Miya took the loop and slipped it through the hole in the coin, then put it around her neck. “Pirate-y enough?” she asked.
“Very pirate-y. The height of pirate fashion, I’d say. You’d be the belle of any pirate ball.”
“Do pirates have balls?”
“Some of them.”
“How horrid.” Miya looked down at her new necklace. “I might … maybe I’ll make an earring out of it, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“I think that would be very suitable, keeping in mind—”
“The dangers of earrings in a fight, yes Dad, I will keep that in my mind forever and ever and ever because you’ve told me it so many times I don’t think I could forget even if I tried very very hard.”
Tomas shrugged with a grin.
“Should we start heading back?” Miya asked. “I kind of have this feeling that Mum might freak out if we’re not around when she wakes up.”
“I suppose we should. But let’s do this again soon—or better yet …”
Tomas trailed off, then shook his head.
“Or, no,” he said. “Perhaps not.”
“What? What were you going to say?”
“It’s nothing.”
“You were going to say something!”
“As I said, nothing, nothing of importance, just a passing thought of no importance or relevance.”
“When you start talking fancily like that I know you’re hiding something, it’s your, what do you call it, your tell,” said Miya.
“I have no idea what it is you’re trying to impart,” said Tomas, guiltily.
“What would you start to say and then—OH. You were going to say we should, that I should come along on your next trip away! Right? Looking for those smugglers that are becoming a problem, right? I’m right, aren’t I. Aren’t I? Yeah, I’m right. Or those raiders down south, around Hermit Island, go sort them out together, father-daughter team, that’s what you were going to say, I know you were, don’t try to deny it.”
“Do not tell your mother that I even began to say that kind of thing,” said Tomas. “Now give me a hand getting the dinghy back in the water.”
“But you WERE beginning to say it, right?” said Miya, joining her father in dragging the dinghy down to the water’s edge. “I won’t tell Mum, I won’t tell anyone, I swear, but you were about to say something like that, weren’t you?”
“Come on, get in, I’ll do the push,” said Tomas. Miya hopped in the dinghy and stared at her father as he pushed the boat out into water deep enough to start rowing, then continued staring at him as he got in the boat and took up the oars. As he started rowing she kept staring at him, and she continued staring at him until they were nearly back to Miya’s ship, when he gave an exasperated, defeated, exaggerated sigh. At that point Miya stopped staring and started grinning.
“All right then, you win,” he said. “I was thinking that, yes, perhaps you’re old enough now to take along—not to anything dangerous, certainly not to ‘sort out’ raiders, but, yes, perhaps on a routine trip … on my seasonal visit to the major islands, perhaps. BUT,” Miya’s father fixed a stern eye upon her, his rarely-spotted ‘serious face’, “only, and I repeat that, only if your mother gives her approval.”
“But Mum would never—”
“Never say never, Coconut. I think I may know how to penetrate her defences on this one. Leave it to me, and say nothing to her, nothing to anyone, in fact don’t even think too hard about this until I bring it up again. Okay? Deal?”
“Deal. PP. Pirate Promise,” said Miya, holding out her hand. Tomas shook his head.
“No, no pirates on this one, this isn’t anything to do with pirates or pirating. This is serious stuff about, you know, island matters. Responsibilities of a king and a princess.”
“Got it,” said Miya. They bumped up against the Black Swan, and Miya leapt onto her ship. “Pirate’s honour, I won’t say a word!”
“The honour of a pirate isn’t worth much, Coconut.”
“The honour of THIS pirate is! Come on, lubber, haul up that dinghy right-smart, or I’ll have your guts for garters!” Miya called out, climbing the mast to unfurl the sails.
“And you can stop that kind of talk too, before you develop bad habits that might slip out in front of someone who would NOT appreciate them.”
“If any wench or swain have a problem with me manner of speech, I’ll do for ‘em like Heartless Jon did for the Red Gang, savvy?”
“But seriously Miya, don’t talk like that anywhere near your mother, it’d be me that paid for it,” said Tomas.
“Okay, fine, just trying to get into the spirit of things. Got that dinghy secured yet?”
“Almost.”
“By all the spirits of the sea, ye’re slower than a bilge rat covered in molasses. Get a move on, ye scurvy sea louse!”
“Come down and help if you’re in such a hurry.”
“Arr, ye think hauling up a lowly dinghy be the work of a pirate captain?”
“In a two-man crew? Pretty much.”
“Oh, all right then, you big baby. I’ll help just to stop you whinging,” said Miya, jumping down to help pull the dinghy onto the side of the ship and hook it firmly into place.
“There,” said Tomas. “Many hands make light work, you know.”
“And people doing what they’re told the first time without whining about it makes for an efficient ship,” said Miya. “Go and trim the sails, would you? Keep yourself busy and out of trouble.”
“Aye aye, Captain.”
Miya pulled up the anchor then unlocked the wheel, squeezing it gently as she turned the ship around to head out of the bay. There wasn’t much wind until they passed Miya Rock, then suddenly the sails filled and they were away, zipping along the water at a great pace.
“Fastest ship in the Black Navy,” Tomas commented, as they neared the eastern point.
“Excuse me, fastest ship in the Necessary Ocean, I think you’ll find,” said Miya, a little haughtily. “And if we’re being pedantic then, as you tell me rather too often, it’s not actually part of the Black Navy. The Black Swan is an independent. If we ever went to war or whatever I’d have to make up my own mind about which side to support.”
“Well, I’d certainly petition for your aid,” said Tomas. “Although … this is just a gut feeling, you understand, just an old ex-pirate’s instinct, but it is possible that a ship with no guns might not be that useful in a sea battle.”
“I’d avoid the enemy’s cannons and board them before they knew what was happening,” said Miya. “Grapple the enemy ship, climb on board, fight my way to the captain and duel them for control of their ship.”
“Goodness.”
“You don’t think I could?”
“I don’t think I’d want you to try.”
“Huh.” Miya spun the wheel then held it steady, correcting their course slightly as they passed the eastern point and sailed out into the open ocean. After a moment she squinted and leaned forward. “Is that something out there?”
“Where? I don’t see anything.”
“There, to the north, it’s quite small. Take the wheel a moment.”
Miya ran into the captain’s cabin and emerged a few seconds later with a spyglass, which she raised to her eye.
“It’s a boat, a dinghy I think. What’s it doing way out there?”
“May I?” Tomas asked. Miya handed him the spyglass and he looked through. “It’s a canoe,” he said, “from one of the northern islands. Ta’asi, maybe, or Faloa. He’s a long way from home, I wonder … Miya—sorry, Captain Miya, what say you?”
“I say we go and see what he’s doing here,” said Miya, jumping up to the stern deck and taking the wheel, changing course to head towards the distant black speck. “You think he’s lost?”
“I doubt it, the northern islanders are superb navigators,” said Tomas. “Ah, it looks like he’s seen us.”
Tomas patted his daughter on her shoulder, then quickly climbed the mast, waving to the man in the canoe, who waved back before returning to his paddling.
“He must be very strong,” said Miya. “To paddle for that long.”
“They’re great warriors, although most of the tribes are fairly peaceful these days,” said Tomas, as he climbed down from the mast.
“HELLO!” Miya called out. “CAN YOU HEAR ME?”
Apparently not, as the man in the canoe didn’t respond. Miya impatiently tapped her fingers on the wheel as they drew closer, then called out again:
“CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?”
“We’re in no hurry, Miya, calm down.”
“But it’s exciting!”
Tomas grinned at the look in his daughter’s eyes. They quickly closed the distance between themselves and the man in the canoe, to the point where they could see him clearly. He was big, broad with powerful-looking arms. His skin was a deep brown, glistening with ocean spray. Miya and her father brought the Black Swan to a stop, and the man in the canoe paddled closer.
“Is that Clover Island?” he called out. His voice was deep and clear.
“It is,” Tomas called back. “Will you come aboard? You must be tired.”
“I am. Thank you,” said the man—although now he was closer, Miya realised that despite his size he was probably only a few years older than she was. He caught the rope Miya threw him and quickly secured his canoe, then accepted Tomas’s hand and climbed aboard the Black Swan. He was tall, towering over Miya and almost a head taller than Tomas, who was not a short man. He wore a cloth skirt, patterned black and white, and a leather belt with several tools hanging off it. His face was open and his deep hazel eyes were kind.
“Welcome aboard the Black Swan,” said Miya. “I’m Miya, this is my dad Tomas.”
“My name is Sola.”
“Sola! What does it mean? I heard that northern island names all have an interesting meaning,” said Miya.
“It means ‘everything in the sky’,” said Sola.
“My name means ‘beautiful arrow’,” said Miya. “Mum picked the first bit and Dad picked the second. And Dad’s name—”
“Wait. I’m sorry to interrupt, but you said Tomas? Tomas Black?”
“Yes,” said Tomas. “I’m Tomas Black.”
“The king of Clover Island. You are the man I am searching for,” said Sola. He knelt, his head bowed, and slapped his bare chest. He stayed in this position a moment, then straightened again, looking Tomas straight in the eye. “I have two messages for you. The first message is that a pirate calling himself Badger Pete has attacked Tonfa-Tonfa and enslaved my people. I believe we are not the first to fall to him.”
Miya looked at her father, her eyes wide. His face was drawn, his expression dark.
“Go on,” said Tomas. “What’s the second message?”
Sola hesitated just for a moment, then he spoke:
“The second message is that I am your son. My mother was Priestess Ma’ala. She spoke of you as a man of deep righteousness and strong moral fibre.”
“I … uh …”
Miya looked at her father, whose expression had turned kind of blank. He opened his mouth and seemed about to say something, but then closed it again. Miya stepped forward and smiled at Sola.
“Thank you for delivering your messages,” she said quickly, in what she thought of as her ‘princess’ tone of voice. “We’ll head to our house straight away and—oh, wow, you’re my brother!”
“If you are Tomas Black’s daughter then yes, I am your half-brother,” said Sola. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“I’m very pleased to meet you, too!”
“Ma’ala?” said Tomas, his voice a little distant.
“Ignore him, I’m sure it’s just kind of a shock,” said Miya, as she took the wheel and began guiding the ship back towards Clover Island. “Is your canoe okay being towed like this?”
“It should be.”
“Good. Well, I guess it’s a shock to me too.”
“I can understand.”
“Ma’ala,” said Tomas.
“Getting a Sudden Brother and all, it’s not something that happens every day. But, oh … your people. That’s awful!”
“Yes.”
“Did … did you fight back? Alongside your people?” Miya asked.
“I … was not there at the time of the attack. I had been away, hunting, fishing. When I returned I saw Badger Pete’s ships, and … and what remained of my village. I waited until it was dark, then snuck aboard one of the bigger ships. My people … the strong adults are being forced to work as Pete’s crew. Those unable to work, mostly the young and the old, have been captured. Badger Pete is threatening to hurt them or worse should my people attempt to fight back or refuse his orders.”
“That’s horrible,” said Miya, quietly.
“Yes.”
“It certainly is,” said Tomas. Both Miya and Sola looked at him, Miya noting how suddenly old his face looked. Tomas cleared his throat. “I’m, uh, I’m sorry that I was …” he trailed off, then cleared his throat again and continued. “I’m sorry about your people, Sola … and I’m sorry that … that is … I didn’t know—”
Sola held up his hand. “I understand,” he said.
“Anything that I—that Clover Island can do … that is …” Tomas straightened. “Tonfa-Tonfa has the full support of Clover Island, and myself personally,” he said.
“And of me,” Miya added.
Sola nodded. “Thank you.”
“Are you tired?” Miya asked. “Do you want to sit down or lie down? There’s a cot in my cabin.”
Sola thought a moment, then nodded again. “Please.”
“It’s this way. Make yourself at home!” said Miya, showing Sola to her cabin and opening the door for him. Sola nodded once more, then entered Miya’s cabin, ducking to avoid hitting his head on the door frame. Miya closed the door behind him, then turned to her father. He was on the stern deck, leaning on the back rail and gazing out to sea. Miya chewed on her lip for a moment, then approached him.
“Dad?”
“Miya.”
“Are you okay?”
“Not really.”
“Is—”
“It’s okay. I’m just thinking.”
“What are you thinking?”
Tomas just shook his head. Miya looked at him for a moment, worried, then turned away.
“I’ll get us back to port,” she said.
What Tomas was mostly thinking was this: “Pirates. Here. Pirates, of all things.”
What Miya was mostly thinking was this: “Pirates! Here! Pirates! Of all things!”
It was several hours later. Miya and Sola sat together in one of her house’s lounges—the nice lounge—while their father broke the news to Lily.
“Would you like a biscuit?” Miya asked.
“No. Thank you,” said Sola.
There was a silence for a few moments.
“Another cup of tea?”
Sola looked at the cup on the table in front of him, barely touched.
“No, thank you.”
“No,” said Miya. She looked at the door. “Um. I don’t have any other brothers or sisters. Do you?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
Another slightly uncomfortable silence.
“Dad’s taking a long time. I hope everything’s okay.”
“Yes.” Sola thought for a moment. “I have several cousins. And many aunts and uncles. And a grandmother.”
“Oh, really? That sounds nice … it’s just Mum and Dad and me here, pretty much. Well, I call Lars ‘Uncle Lars’ sometimes but he’s not really my uncle, just Dad’s old friend. I guess it’s not quite the same.”
“I don’t know,” said Sola.
“So apart from your aunts and uncles and cousins and grandmother, it’s just you and your mum?”
Sola was silent for a moment before replying. “My mother died last year.”
Miya spluttered on the sip of tea she was taking.
“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry, I didn’t … I didn’t realise at all.”
“It was shortly before she died that she told me who my father was.”
“Before that you didn’t know?” Miya asked. Sola shook his head.
“I knew he was not from my village. That is all.”
“Wow.”
“Yes.”
There was another silence, this one somehow not so uncomfortable. Miya sipped at her tea. Sola stared at his. Miya began to say something then closed her mouth as she heard movement in the hallway outside. She and Sola looked at the door as her father entered. He looked tired.
“Hi kids,” he said.
“Hi Dad,” said Miya, as Sola inclined his head towards their father. “Uh, how’s Mum?”
“She’s …” Tomas grinned. “She is a queen.”
“She’s okay?”
“Well … once she understood the situation. Once I was able to tell her that Sola is seventeen now, and after she did a little simple mathematics. That part of things … let’s be honest, it’s strange. I’m sure not least of all to you, Sola.”
Sola nodded.
“But … well … how to put this …” Tomas frowned as he tried to find the right words.
“The fact that I am your son is a personal matter,” Sola said. “And the situation concerning Badger Pete is of more general importance, at this juncture.”
“Well … yes,” said Tomas. He grinned at Sola. “Exactly.”
“So are we going after him? Like right now?” asked Miya. She put her cup of tea down and stood up. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”
“I like your enthusiasm, Miya,” said Tomas, “but this really isn’t something that—”
“What! Are you kidding? I’m the princess of this island, my brother’s people have been enslaved, there’s a rogue pirate out there doing goodness knows what and you’re standing there saying that this isn’t something that concerns me?”
“No,” said Tomas patiently, “what I was going to say was that this isn’t something that you can just jump into. That’s ‘you’ generally, not ‘you’ personally, just to be clear. Although to be even more clear, yes, it DOES apply to you personally as well. JDJ, Coconut. What I mean is that we can’t just go rushing off without finding more information—how big Pete’s gang is, where they’re based, who would support us if we did decide to go after him—”
“We don’t need support! You and me, Dad, let’s take this sea rat down!”
Tomas laughed. “You’re certainly my daughter, aren’t you?”
“You’re darn right I am!”
“But aside from anything—ah.”
Lily stood at the entrance to the room. She looked at Sola and smiled.
“Hello, Sola. I’m Lily,” she said.
“Hello,” Sola replied, standing. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“And my absolute pleasure to meet you. I only wish it were in better circumstances.”
Sola bowed a little, then hesitated.
“You can sit down again,” Miya whispered. Sola did so, turning to smile and nod his thanks to her.
“Miya,” Lily said. “Your party—”
“Doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t. It can be postponed. It’s not important. I don’t mind, honestly.”
“Well,” said Lily. “Well, how noble. Thank you, Miya.”
Miya curtsied primly, privately thinking that perhaps her mother could have protested just a little more.
“Although,” said Lily, “I don’t believe we need to cancel everything.”
Postpone, thought Miya, not cancel!
“I think we should still have the lunch. The food is being prepared in any case, and it would be a shame to let it go to waste. However, the formal dance … and the duelling contest,” said Lily, her expression softening at the look of dismay on her daughter’s face. “I know, sweetie, but—”
“It’s fine,” said Miya, her voice a little tight. “We’ll have the lunch. Everyone will be there anyway, that’s the important thing.”
“And of course your presents,” said Tomas. “Also very, very important.”
“Of course,” said Miya, forcing brightness into her voice.
“It’s your birthday?” Sola asked.
“Yes.”
“How old are you today?”
“Fourteen,” said Miya. She felt a little flat.
“An adult, then,” Sola said. “Perhaps not such good timing.”
“What do you mean by that?” Tomas asked. Sola looked up at him.
“When it is a time of war, there are some who say it’s better to be a boy than a man—or better to be a girl than a woman.”
“Ah, yes, perhaps so,” said Tomas.
“However, on this island we do not consider fourteen to be an adult,” said Lily, just a little curtly.
“Also … I think predicting war at this point may be a little … premature,” said Tomas.
Sola shook his head sadly.
“I hope so,” he said.
Lunch had been a great success, with almost everyone in town and a number of people from elsewhere on the island attending, Blackport’s town square filled with people and tables loaded with food—dainty sandwiches with the crusts cut off alongside great roasted pigs on spits, fresh fruit served on elegant plates alongside massive vats of custard. Miya had received a number of presents—mostly clothes, but also a tiny wooden horseshoe charm from Penny that she’d carved herself, and from the people of the island a fine new compass in a hard leather case. But now was the time for her family to give her their presents—traditionally the part of her birthday that Miya loved the most, although recent events had dulled her enthusiasm more than a little.
“I would like to raise a toast,” said Tomas, addressing the crowd and raising his glass. He looked down at his daughter, seated to his left, then at Sola beside her, and then around to Lilith, who was to his right. He looked back up at the crowd. “To my daughter, Princess Miya Black, fourteen years old today!”
“To Princess Miya!” the crowd replied, raising their glasses. Miya raised her own in response, rolling her eyes slightly and grinning a little grin. Tomas smiled at her, then looked at his wife. “Would you like to go first?” he asked.
Miya and her mother stood, Miya feeling very uncomfortable—receiving her presents each year had been a favourite tradition of hers, and it had always before seemed right to do it in front of the people of the island. Now, though, it felt oddly wrong, like they were putting on a show just to delay telling them about Badger Pete and the fate of Sola’s village. Nevertheless, Miya put on a bright expression and smiled as her mother brought out a large, flat box.
“I know you’re not one for this kind of thing,” Lilith said, “but a mother always has hope. May I?”
Miya nodded, and watched as her mother opened the box and produced her present. A conflicted sequence of thoughts flashed through her mind as she looked at it.
First: Oh my goodness that’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen in all my life.
Second: Wait a minute, I hate dresses!
Third: But the colour and the cut and the way it kind of shimmers and oh my goodness the COLOUR!
Fourth: I can never wear that in public. I have a reputation to uphold: Miya Black, Hater of Dresses. I will never wear that in public.
Fifth: Unless it looks really, really good on me.
Sixth: Wait, Sola’s village! Badger Pete! This is no time to be getting conflicted about dresses! No matter how gorgeous they are!
Seventh: But the COLOUR!
Eighth: Oh, the crowd. Smile! Look pleased! Be a princess!
Miya smiled at her mother and hugged her. “Thank you, Mum. I … I don’t entirely hate it?”
Lily smiled at her daughter and returned the hug, then Queen Lilith carefully folded the dress and put it back in the box.
“Next, your father has something for you,” she said, stepping back as Tomas stepped forward.
“I didn’t wrap it,” he said, smiling at his daughter. “It didn’t seem right, somehow. Well, anyway … happy birthday, Miya.”
He paused a moment, then undid his sword belt and handed it to his daughter. “I hope you never have to use it, but if you do … well, it’s served me well over the years. Especially in my younger days. I think you’re just tall enough for it now, so … wear it proudly, Miya.”
Miya stared at her father, then shook her head. “I … I can’t, it’s your sword. Your sword.”
“Your sword now. Don’t worry, I have others. And you … well, you know.”
Miya nodded, her eyes bright. She hugged her father tightly, then took the belt from him. She wasn’t wearing her own sword belt, this being a formal occasion and thus more of a ‘princess’ than a ‘pirate’ event, so she buckled it on then and there.
“It’s, um, a little big,” she said, laughing. It just fit her on the tightest loop, a long length of belt poking through the buckle. Despite this it felt right, the weight at her side reassuring. She drew the sword to show it
off—it was, as her father never missed an opportunity to point out, a royal Amician straight sabre, slightly old-fashioned and plain but in excellent condition, the blade straight and untarnished, its edge fine and sharp. The sword’s grip was black sharkskin, and the guard was narrow and elegantly curved. On the front of this guard was the sword’s only decoration; a small engraving of a three-leaf clover.
“I think Uncle Lars is next,” said Tomas, as Miya gazed at the sword. “Lars?”
“Yes,” said Lars, walking to the Black family table and standing before Miya as she somewhat reluctantly sheathed her sword. “I asked to myself, what is the princess going to do when her grip fails her and she is left without weapon? And so I answered to myself, make sure she has another weapon. It’s a knife. A bloody sharp one, too.”
“Language,” said Miya, smiling as she accepted the gift. She pulled the knife from the sheath and inspected it, testing it lightly with her thumb. “Wow, it is sharp.”
“Perhaps you could use it to trim that belt a little,” said Lars. Miya shook her head.
“I already got used to it,” she said. “I kind of like it, even. Thank you for the present, Uncle Lars.”
Lars grinned and gave Miya a short, slightly awkward hug, then shuffled away from the family table and back to his seat.
“I can’t say I entirely approve, Lars. At least the sword has some decorative value,” said Queen Lilith, drawing some laughter. “Well, perhaps we could present our joint present now. Tomas?”
“Yes. Miya, this is from your mother and I.”
Miya took the long black leather case from her parents and opened it, her eyes widening as she looked inside.
“A spyglass?” she said, taking it out. “It’s beautiful.”
It was made of black leather and polished brass, the lens clear and sparkling in the afternoon light. Miya extended it carefully, put it to her eye, and gasped.
“It’s so clear! How far away am I seeing? It seems like miles!”
Her mother and father exchanged looks, both smiling. “We thought you’d like it,” said Tomas. “It’s a new type, much more effective than the ones we’re all stuck using.”
“It’s amazing, I can see so far—this’ll be great when I’m out on the Swan, thanks Mum, Dad,” Miya said, lowering the spyglass and embracing them.
“Well,” said Lilith. “I think that’s all the presents—”
“If I could?”
All eyes turned to Sola as he stood and spoke.
“I would … if it would not cause offence, I would also like to give my … to give Miya a gift,” he said.
“Of course,” said Queen Lilith. “Go ahead, Sola.”
Sola bowed to the crowd a little awkwardly, then turned to Miya.
“It’s something of my home,” he said, then he knelt, slapped his chest, and held his hand out, palm up, upon it a small shell, about an inch long, coloured a shimmering blue and green.
“Oh, pretty,” said Miya, then she remembered herself. “Thank you for the gift, Sola,” she said, taking the shell. She noticed it had a small hole at one end.
“For a necklace or bracelet,” explained Sola.
“Thank you,” said Miya. “I … thank you.”
“This seems as good a time as any to explain Sola’s presence here,” said Queen Lilith. Miya sat down. She’d almost forgotten about the reason for Sola being there, but her mother’s words brought her back to reality. “You know that Sola is a guest of our island, but the reason he came here is, unfortunately, not pleasant. Ten days ago Sola’s village was destroyed by a vile pirate who calls himself Badger Pete. As far as we know, the rest of his tribe has been enslaved.”
There were murmurs and raised voices in the crowd, which Queen Lilith silenced by raising her hand.
“We have pledged our support to Tonfa-Tonfa. We have a duty to our neighbours, I think you will agree.” Queen Lilith looked at Sola, then back at the crowd. “However. The safety of Clover Island must come first. We do not know what Badger Pete’s intentions are, but rest assured that our home will be protected.”
Miya looked sharply up at her mother. “Mum,” she said, her voice low.
“We have not yet decided how we will respond to Badger Pete’s attack. But Clover Island will never go unprotected. We will help our neighbours. But not at the cost of our own safety.”
As Queen Lilith continued talking Miya looked to her father, who shook his head just slightly, his expression one of forced calm. Although at times Miya found her father difficult to read, this time she had no trouble at all.
He was furious.
“—bigger than one island, Lilith, and the longer we let this go on—”
“We have a responsibility to our people, above all else—”
“Our responsibility here is to help those who need it. For goodness sake, we’ve got the only decent-sized navy in the archipelago, most of these islands have never even considered defence against the sea, this part of the world wasn’t touched by the war—”
“But we were. We know—”
“Exactly! So how—”
“I will do what is necessary to protect this island and the people upon it.”
“But these people … they need our help, Lee. Who else will, if we don’t?”
“And who will help us, if we need it? Who is there to come to our rescue, should our navy be destroyed?”
Miya couldn’t stand to hear any more. Blinking back tears, she crept away from the door to her parent’s bedroom and went quietly downstairs, out the back door, into the night. The moon shone full and bright above, lighting her way as she walked through her mother’s vegetable garden and her father’s flower garden. She walked to the cliff that overlooked Blackport and looked down, at the quiet, pretty little town that had been there her whole life, that had grown alongside her. When she was born there were barely a hundred people living on Clover Island, now there were over a thousand. It had become a symbol, of sorts, in its short existence. Clover Island was a place for second chances, for fresh starts, where your past was your own, to share as you saw fit. Where you could see the results of your own hard work, and live freely so long as you did no harm to others. The people of the island were kind and generous, open to new ideas and new people. Miya sniffed, trying to imagine what it would be like to lose the island, to lose the town below, the people she’d grown up with and lived with.
“I’d do anything,” she said to herself, her voice quiet but fierce. “I’d do anything to stop that. I’d fight anyone. I’d sail anywhere. I’d … I’d attend any ball.”
Miya looked up at the moon.
“What do I do?” she asked. “What on earth can I do?”
A small sound suddenly caught Miya’s attention, and she drew her sword—her new sword, her father’s sword. She looked around, searching the darkness, scanning the shadows cast by moonlight, looking for anything out of place.
“I’m sorry,” a deep voice came from behind her. Miya gave a little yelp and spun around to see Sola, standing just a few metres away. She scowled at him.
“Don’t sneak up on me,” she snapped, sheathing her sword.
“I’m sorry,” Sola repeated. “I didn’t mean to startle you. You couldn’t sleep?”
“No, I … well, yes, I suppose so,” said Miya.
“I thought that tonight I would sleep as I never slept before, but instead I find myself more awake than I have ever been,” said Sola. Miya was silent. They both looked out at the town below and the ocean beyond that, and the bright moon and the thousands of stars in the clear night sky.
“Do you find it strange, having a brother suddenly?” Sola asked, after a minute of silence.
“Um, yeah, kind of. How about you? Having a sister suddenly, I mean.”
“Yes. I have had time to accept who my father is, but to have a sister is unexpected.”
Sola paused for a moment, thinking.
“How do brothers act towards their sisters here?” he asked.
Miya thought of Penny’s little brother, Bradley, and the constant torment he subjected her to.
“Um,” she said, after a moment. “Why do you ask?”
“I would like to be a good brother.”
Miya couldn’t help but smile at this.
“I’ll try to be a good sister, too.”
Sola nodded. “Thank you,” he said, his voice gravely earnest.
“Are you always so serious?” Miya asked.
“These are serious times.”
“I know,” Miya said, with a sigh. “I wish I could do something.”
“So do I,” said Sola.
They looked out at the view for a few moments.
“Before you came out here I was trying to imagine what … how I’d feel if, y’know, if something happened to Clover Island.”
Sola nodded. Miya bit her lip, then looked at him.
“Sola … we’re going to get him. Badger Pete, I mean. I don’t know how, or when, or … or anything, but I know we’re going to get him. And we’ll rescue your people, and help rebuild your village. Uh, if you want help. You might have it set out how you like it and not want other people interfering, I know I prefer to decorate my own cabin.”
Sola nodded again.
“Thank you,” he said. Miya smiled at him, then looked up at the moon.
“We’ll do something,” she said.
Next:
3
New Relations, Old Relations
