“I think we can dispense with the usual pleasantries, Mr Hawksthorne. I know idle talk is the great pastime of the Highland but I’m rather busy today.”
“Of course.”
Alvin Hawksthorne sat opposite Queen Lilith in her office, which was a sunny, open room in the eastern part of the house. Miya sat in the corner, sworn to absolute silence under threat of having her grounding extended another month for each and every word she uttered.
“So come on. Why are you here?” Lilith’s tone was hard and wary. “I sincerely hope it’s not a declaration of war, we could do without one of those right now.”
“Oh, no, quite the opposite. As I said to your daughter earlier, Goldmeadow wishes to extend its friendship to Clover Island with an official alliance.”
“Ah, its ‘friendship’. Very nice. Tell me, Mr Hawksthorne, since when has the council allowed individual kingdoms the right to extend ‘friendship’ outside of the Highland itself?”
“You’re familiar with Highland law,” said Alvin, smiling.
“Uncomfortably familiar, Mr Hawksthorne.”
Alvin’s smile disappeared, and he cleared his throat.
“There have been a lot of changes recently,” he said, speaking slightly faster than before. “It is a new world, one that grows smaller by the year, and one in which even the smallest places become important. We were very impressed with the way you dealt with that Peter Morgon
business—”
“Please don’t bring that up.”
Alvin paused, then nodded. “My apologies, I realise it was a difficult time—”
“You do not appear to possess the Highland trait of overstatement, Mr Hawksthorne. Our town would have been razed were it not for the, quite frankly, foolishly brave and reckless determination of this island’s people. Hundreds of my subjects, MY SUBJECTS, Mr Hawksthorne, were held at sword’s point. Need I continue?”
“Perhaps I have taken this conversation in a direction that serves neither of our interests.”
“Perhaps you have. What do you want, Mr Hawksthorne? And by all means, be precise.”
“I want to establish an embassy here,” Alvin said, firmly. “As I said, it is a new world. Much of the ‘old blood’ of the Highland is … well, I’ll be blunt, dying out. There is a new movement towards younger rulers, younger royalty. There was a certain … unpleasantness several years
ago—”
“You are referring to the Blue War.”
“Ah, yes, I see your knowledge of the Highland is rather good—”
“Know one’s enemy, Mr Hawksthorne.”
Alvin laughed, then checked himself. “Erm, yes, quite. As I was saying, there is a movement towards youth in the Highland, and with youth can come change, as I’m sure you’re aware. The government …” Alvin grimaced a little before continuing. “I want to be honest with you, your majesty—”
“That would certainly suit me. Incidentally, Mr Hawksthorne, I’m not entirely comfortable with your use of that term of address.”
“Y-yes, your highness—”
“Try again, Mr Hawksthorne.”
“… Queen Lilith. I am not proud of my country.”
Lilith raised her eyebrows.
“Do you know,” she said, “that’s the first time in my entire life that I’ve heard a Highland diplomat say that their country was anything less than perfection incarnate. Mr Hawksthorne, I believe that you have my attention.”
“I’m gratified to hear that. Your reputation as—”
“As I just said, you have my attention, Mr Hawksthorne. Don’t waste it.”
Alvin cleared his throat. “You are clearly aware of the failings of the Highland. Given your past. Given the history of this island. Your native Brightburn is …” Alvin trailed off, then smiled. “Forgive me, I’m trying to think of a way to put it tactfully.”
“I hold no love for that particular kingdom, Mr Hawksthorne, feel free to dispense with tact and speak without restraint.”
“Queen Lilith, to request such a thing of a Highland diplomat, you ask the impossible.”
Lilith smiled thinly. “Go on, then.”
Alvin thought for a moment, then he spoke:
“Brightburn is perhaps the best example of the worst of Highland’s past. It is as unchanging as the stone it is built from, the mountains that make up its landscape. As such it has the worst of all worlds; stringent adhesion to the old rules stifles growth, while also allowing unscrupulous individuals and organisations to take advantage of cracks in the laws—”
“I’m forced to wonder, Mr Hawksthorne, why you are telling me this. You seem to be an informed young man, I must assume that you know of my connection to that kingdom.”
“O-of course, I was—”
“And so you may in turn assume that I have an uncomfortably intimate knowledge of Brightburn’s failings.”
“Ah, I’m simply … er, establishing context—you see, in comparison with the rocky, unchanging Brightburn, Goldmeadow is a kingdom of forests and hills and rivers—”
“And elves and rainbows and unicorns, please, Mr Hawksthorne, spare me the rhetoric.”
“My apologies. I, er, I understand that you’ve had some rather unpleasant interactions with Greenhill also—”
“Do not,” Queen Lilith said, her voice hard and cold, “so much as mention that kingdom’s name while you are upon my island.”
“I, uh, I … I apologise,” said Alvin. “I didn’t mean … but let me simply tell you that Goldmeadow’s relationship with that particular kingdom is strained, to say the least.”
Queen Lilith said nothing. Alvin cleared his throat.
“Getting back on track,” he said, his voice just a little high, “I told you before that I am not proud of my country. But I AM proud of my kingdom, fiercely proud. In truth I did not want to leave. But as well as a passion for my home, I also have a passion for … I suppose I should call them my ‘ideals’. Goldmeadow is not a particularly powerful kingdom within the Highland, Queen Lilith, as I’m sure you must know. We are young and small. We are not known for our great armies or industry or history. We are known for producing some of the great artists of the Highland, for the close and mutually beneficial relationship our royalty has with local ruling bodies—”
“Mr Hawksthorne, you need not continue. I know more about Goldmeadow than you, perhaps, realise.”
Alvin stopped talking, closed his mouth, and nodded once. Queen Lilith looked at him for a long moment before smiling, a thin, officious smile.
“I’m interested,” she said. “I believe that Clover Island may have a place for you.”
“Well,” said Alvin. “Well, that’s very gratifying—”
“However,” said Lilith, cutting Alvin off, “before we progress any further, I feel we must address one important, basic matter. Your wages.”
“Oh, you need not worry, Goldmeadow would, of course, be paying
me—”
“That is exactly what I worry about, Mr Hawksthorne. How much does an emissary receive, these days?”
“Well, my monthly wage is rather humble, five and six clear—”
“That would be five gold and six silver, yes?”
“Well, yes, of course—”
“You passed a carpenter on the way here, he works outside, you can’t have missed him.”
“Ah … yes, I do believe I recall—”
“That’s Mr Brushwood. Would you care to hazard a guess as to what he might earn in a month?”
“Well, I can’t really—”
“Four and six, I believe is about average.”
“That seems—”
“Four silver, Mr Hawksthorne, six copper. We are not a rich kingdom by any means. If I were to accept your proposed plan it would mean that you would be living here, producing, I remind you, and of course I mean no offence by this, nothing of value, for which you would be receiving over ten times the amount anyone else on the island earns.”
“I, uh—”
“Imbalance is the word, Mr Hawksthorne. But, as I said, I think there may be a place for you here. Clover Island is known for its acceptance, after all. So I propose to you, as the first of what will undoubtedly be many, many conditions on your establishing an embassy, a tax.”
“Tax?”
“Embassy tax, emissary tax, perhaps even the does-sod-all tax, we’ll think of a good name for it later. Ninety percent would seem fair, what do you say?”
“Ninety! That’s—”
“You would, of your own free will of course, hand over your monthly salary to the kingdom’s treasurer—that would be me. In return you would receive five silver and six bits—enough, I assure you, to live very comfortably here.”
Alvin coughed. “And you would keep the rest of my money?” he asked, just a little haughtily.
“No, of course not. You’re not in the Highland now, Mr Hawksthorne, corruption is not a way of life here.” Lilith paused a moment, then continued: “We presently have a great number of refugees living with us, a direct result of that Peter Morgon business—that Peter Morgon business which, as I have been repeatedly assured, had absolutely nothing to do with the Highland.”
Alvin had the grace to shift in his seat a little.
“That wasn’t—”
“Perhaps later. We’re currently trying to establish a place for all these new people, but wood and nails are expensive, as are tools—axes, hammers, that sort of thing. Many of the refugees are working to clear the jungle to the north, planting Black Pine in its place, or clearing the land for farming—working towards creating a home for themselves. It is my hope that we will eventually be able to establish a new town. Blackport, as you may have noticed, is becoming more than a little cramped. So you see, Mr Hawksthorne—or should I call you Alvin, seeing as we’re such good friends now?”
“I, that would—”
“So you see, Alvin, we would be using the tax you pay to in turn pay our workers, to buy them tools, to buy materials for the construction of new homes. We would be turning your presence here, regardless of what other ‘effects’ it might have, into a boon for the island. Because that’s what we do here. We take whatever the world throws at us and we turn it into something good.”
“That’s—”
“One question I must ask, are we expected to set up an embassy in Goldmeadow in return? Send an ambassador there?”
“Ah, no, for now we thought that Embassy Island would be quite sufficient—”
“Interesting. Well, perhaps that’s something we can discuss at a later date. What are your initial plans here, Alvin?”
“I … well … I have a ‘sequence’, of sorts, there are certain procedures and regulations I must follow before—”
“If I may make a suggestion?”
“Of course.”
“Go into town. Talk with the people there. Introduce yourself to the island, in the Clover Island way—one family at a time. Go to the north, visit the refugee camps there, the felling camp. Go to the east, visit the farms and those people who choose to live away from the town, they are as much a part of the island as anyone else. It is not enough that I grant your request, Alvin. Do you understand?”
“I do.”
“Good. I think that will be all for now.” Lilith gazed at Alvin for a moment, then turned to look at her daughter—who was almost bursting from not having said anything through the conversation. “Miya, could you please show our guest to a room? Of course he must stay with us until he is able to find suitable accommodation elsewhere. I believe that we have a room available, now that the Graysons have moved to be nearer the felling camps.”
“Of course,” said Miya. She stood and walked to Alvin’s side as he got up from his seat.
“If you’d like to go ahead?” she said, in her best ‘princess’ voice.
Alvin nodded, slightly stunned, and went to leave.
“Oh, Alvin, one last thing.”
Alvin looked back at Queen Lilith, who smiled at him.
“Welcome to Clover Island.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“You don’t trust anyone from the Highland.”
“I trust Mum. I trust you.”
“Yeah, well …” Penny gave a kind of slightly embarrassed shrug.
“We have to keep a close eye on him,” said Miya. “Make sure he’s not up to anything nefarious.”
“Okay.”
Miya glanced at her friend. “That was suspiciously non-argumentative of you.”
“I … I just agree, is all.”
“Huh.”
Miya stomped just a little as she and Penny walked down the path into Blackport, secretly pleased to have something to get properly annoyed about. It had been several days since Alvin had arrived on Clover Island, and he’d proven to be irritatingly difficult to figure out—so far he’d done little more than visit various families and businesses around the island.
“Do you …”
Miya trailed off, then shook her head.
Penny looked at her. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“You were about to—”
“You don’t like him, do you?”
“What? I! No! What are you saying, you talk some complete rubbish sometimes, hahahahaha—”
“You DO! You DO like him, oh, oh Penny, that’s so gross!”
“It’s not gross, I—you’re—”
“He’s OLD, Penny!”
“He’s not! He’s only like, I don’t know, twenty or something, he’s young!”
“You’re only fourteen!”
“I’m fifteen, I had my birthday last month! You were there! We had a horse cake!”
“That’s beside the point!”
“Anyway, since when has being fourteen ever stopped YOU from doing anything, Little Miss Great Pirate Queen?”
“That … that’s different! That’s totally different! That’s like fighting and stuff, it wasn’t anything like, you know, ugh …”
Penny stopped walking down the path to look at her friend.
“Oh my goodness,” she said, as Miya pretended to be suddenly interested in the rocky cliff beside them. “Oh my goodness, Princess Miya Black. You’re afraid of boys!”
“I’m not!” Miya cried, turned on Penny. “I’m not afraid of anything!”
“You are, you’re totally afraid of—kissing. Kissing a boy.”
“Stop!”
“I always thought you were just tormenting Charles, but—”
“Huh? What? What’s he got to do with anything?”
“Like you didn’t notice—but … oh my gosh … you DIDN’T notice!”
“Notice what? You’re the one talking rubbish now, Penny!”
“That the poor boy is obviously totally infatuated with you, that—”
“What? Chuck? Are we talking about the same Chuck here? He’s not … he doesn’t …”
“Miya, Miya, Miya. Goodness me-ya. Do you know, I never even … this is like … our friendship has changed completely. I’m stronger than you at something!”
“What?”
“Oh, you know, you’ve always been the, y’know, the strong one, not scared of anything, and I’m the one who has to pull you back before you hurt yourself—well, hurt someone else, usually … Stewart and Gable are still terrified of you, I’ve noticed, from that little incident when we were eight—”
“They shouldn’t have been throwing stones at that dog!”
“No, but—”
“And, hey, you clapped when I caught one of the stones and threw it back at them and hit that IDIOT Stewart in the arm with it, you CLAPPED.”
“Because … because that was awesome. That’s not my point, don’t distract me from my point, which was … well, basically, there’s finally something I beat you at that has nothing to do with horses.”
Miya looked at Penny a moment, then crossed her arms and turned away.
“Well, harrumph,” she said.
“Come on, don’t get snotty—”
“Why would I be getting snotty? I’m not the one with a crush on some stuffy Highland diplomat.”
“He’s not stuffy! He’s … he’s refined!”
“Refined? Since when was that something to be proud of?”
“Some people happen to like a little ‘smoothness’,” said Penny, with a sniff.
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” said Miya.
“I wonder if he likes horses?”
“He hates horses. I heard him saying, he despises them, there’s nothing in the world he hates more than a horse. He told me the first thing he’s going to do once he gets his stupid little embassy set up is murder all the horses on Clover Island.”
“I bet he loves riding, he looks like a horse person.”
“And he also said that if there’s anything he despises more than horses, it’s annoyingly-tall-for-their-age blonde girls with green eyes, ESPECIALLY if they like horses.”
“Goldmeadow sounds like the kind of place that’d be great for horses, it’s like all fields and hills and forests, right?”
“The name’s kind of misleading, they don’t have any meadows at all, it’s actually very rocky and dull, and they don’t ride horses there, they just eat them or sometimes use them for target practice.”
“I bet he’d love an invitation to go riding sometime.”
“He hates invitations.”
“Do you think he’d remember me, if I talked to him again?”
“He hates remembering.”
“I bet he would, we’re the first people he met on the island, he’d definitely remember us. Well, me at least,” said Penny.
“Hey, he’d remember me too! I mean, uh … harrumph!”
“Don’t worry, Miya, I’ll protect you.”
“I don’t need protecting!”
“We ALL need a little protecting when we sail the oceans of love.”
“Penny, you just made ‘ocean’ sound like a dirty word, don’t DO that.”
Penny put her arm around Miya’s shoulders.
“It’s nothing to be scared of,” she said.
“I’m NOT scared, I’m not scared of anything!”
“Well, if the emotion of ‘fear’ was available to you then I would tell you that it’s perfectly natural to be afraid,” said Penny. “The oceans of love are deep and mysterious, after all. They’re uncharted waters.”
Miya shivered. “It’d be a brave pirate that sailed those seas,” she said.
Despite her intentions, Miya hadn’t been able to track Alvin down until early in the afternoon—just as he was returning to the Black house. He’d gone to his room directly and stayed there until shortly before dinner, at which time he’d washed up and gone downstairs to see if there was anything he could do to help. It was while Miya was trying to eavesdrop on his conversation with Mrs Kane (the two of them were peeling potatoes together) that Lilith spotted her.
“Miya! I’ve been looking for you all day, didn’t Charles find you?”
“Huh? No?”
“You and I were supposed to have an hour together this afternoon, did you forget?”
Miya had.
“I … I was busy—”
“I don’t ask much of you, Miya, a single hour out of the entire day is not an unreasonable request—”
“I just got busy, I told you, I’m sorry, okay? What did you need me for, anyway? Book lessons?”
“No, Miya, I wanted to … well, it doesn’t matter now.”
Lilith looked at her daughter, her mouth tight, then she sighed.
“I’d just like to spend more time with you—just the two of us. I know we don’t have so many ‘common interests’, not like you and your father, but I had hoped, now that you’re a little older and more mature—Miya, are you listening to me?”
“Hm? Common interests?” Miya had been distracted by Alvin coughing—suspicious!
Lilith sighed again. “Could you … could you please just help Mr Keac chop up the vegetables? It involves blades, so there exists the possibility that it will hold your attention for more than three seconds.”
“Blades, okay.”
“Miya, what did I just ask you to do?”
“… blades?”
“Miya.”
“Um, chop up vegetables,” said Miya, after she’d managed to convince her brain to release the relevant information. “With Mr Keac.”
“Good. Just … just focus on that, would you please?”
Miya scowled as her mother went to check on the stew. It’s like she doesn’t trust me or something, she thought.
Dinner that night was a crowded affair—there were families staying in every guest room of the Black household, around a dozen in total, and most of them shared dinner in the large dining room on the ground floor. Miya sat near the head of the table, between her mother and Sola—her father was in the western islands trying to rally support for the Rainbow Alliance.
“He should be here,” Miya muttered in a low voice, as she pushed her spoon around in her soup. “He’d back me up on this.”
“Did you say something, Miya?” asked Lilith.
“No.”
Miya’s mother looked at her for a moment, then turned to smile at Mrs Kane, who was bringing in a basket full of freshly baked rolls. Miya wasn’t interested in rolls, however, nor in soup. There was only one thing she was interested in right now, one person; Alvin Hawksthorne, emissary for the kingdom of Goldmeadow.
“The Highland kingdom of Goldmeadow,” Miya muttered.
“Miya?”
Miya ignored her mother, in fact didn’t really even hear her—she was trying to hear what ‘Mr Hawksthorne’ was saying to Mr Portle:
“—rather the same boat. I find it remarkable how everyone on the island pulls together to address these problems—I thought that my kingdom was rather good at, erm, charity and so forth, the ‘giving spirit’ as my mother often put it, but really I feel humbled by the acceptance and generosity of the people here.”
Miya scowled as she slurped a spoonful of soup. Bootlicker, she thought.
“Miya, would you like a roll?”
She accepted the bread from Sola without looking.
“You seem preoccupied,” he said, after she’d put the roll down into her soup bowl instead of onto her side plate.
“I’m observing,” she replied.
“The emissary?”
“Ssh! Not so loud!”
“I find myself liking him.”
Miya gasped and turned to look at Sola. “What!”
“I talked with him earlier today. He had some interesting things to say about Clover Island and its relationship with Tonfa-Tonfa.”
“Sola!”
“Miya, could you please not make such a racket at the dinner
table?” Lilith said. Miya shot her mother an irritated look, then stood up from her chair, dragging Sola with her to the hallway.
“What do you mean, ‘he had some interesting things to say’?” she demanded. Sola hesitated.
“I’m trying to think of an alternate interpretation for those words,” he said, after a few seconds.
“What KIND of ‘interesting things’?”
“He is from outside of the archipelago, trained in critical thinking and resolution of—”
“I don’t care what he’s TRAINED for, he’s Highland, Sola! You remember the Highland? OUR ENEMY?”
“Technically speaking, Goldmeadow is now Clover Island’s ally—”
“No! I don’t accept that! That’s all part of some kind of trick, or trap—the Highland is NOT a good place, Sola, you KNOW that. You should know that better than ANYONE, the Highland was behind Badger Pete’s attack, behind the enslavement of your people—”
“The Highland is a large place,” said Sola. “I am sure that parts of it—”
“No,” said Miya, flatly. “Every part of the Highland is PART of the HIGHLAND, don’t you get that?”
Sola was silent a moment.
“There was a baby born today, in the Highland,” he said. Miya stared at him.
“What?“
“Do you consider that child to be ‘bad’? To be ‘evil’?”
“I … huh? No, babies aren’t—look, don’t distract me! The Highland isn’t just … it’s not just its people, okay? It’s a whole thing, a whole terrible thing, they’re not—”
“People can change. This is one of the founding principles of Clover Island,” said Sola. Miya scowled; of course, she knew this. Sola continued: “It is a principle that I also believe in, deeply. And if people can change, then places can also change. What Alvin has said about his kingdom seems hopeful—”
“What he said? You can’t trust ANYTHING he says, Sola. He could be lying! Everything he says could be a trick!”
“I don’t believe so—”
“But you don’t KNOW! How can you know that his kingdom isn’t bad?”
“How can you know that it is?”
Miya stared at Sola.
“I … it’s—”
“You have never been there, nor to any part of the Highland. How can you know that what you believe about it is true?”
“They—the Highland ATTACKED us, Sola, not just with the Badger Pete thing either, when this kingdom was first—and you KNOW how they act towards me—towards you! You were with me at Embassy Island,
you—”
“From what I have learned since then,” said Sola, “the people who attend Embassy Island balls are not thought of—”
“Just stop, okay?” said Miya. “I know what I’m talking about here. The Highland is BAD. It just IS. And that baby that was born there today might be all cute and innocent now but it’ll grow up to be another Highlander—”
“Like Mr Pearson? Like your friend Penny? Like your mother?”
Miya gaped, then stepped forward, her eyes dangerous.
“They all ESCAPED the Highland, Sola. They—”
“So too has Alvin left—”
“That’s different, that’s TOTALLY different, that’s—okay, fine, look. I’m not stupid, I know that people are people everywhere, I know that not everyone in the Highland is bad. But that guy is NOT just a person, he’s a diplomat, he IS the Highland, okay? He’s part of their whole big stupid thing, it doesn’t matter that—”
Miya was interrupted by the door to the hallway being wrenched open. From the doorway, Lilith glowered at her daughter.
“What in the WORLD is all this noise out here?” she demanded, her voice low and angry. Miya glared at her mother before turning and stomping away, towards the stairs leading up.
“Miya—” Sola called after her, but she was already out of sight.
Dad should be here, Miya thought, as she gently applied pressure to the L-bar. Not faffing around in the western islands, I know the Rainbow Alliance is important, I know we have to get everyone organised so we can protect ourselves if there’s another attack, I know that he has things to do, but Clover Island HAS to be the MOST important thing!
Click.
Miya glanced along the corridor as she straightened, then turned the handle and slipped inside the room. After closing the door behind her Miya took a breath, then she knelt down and spent a few minutes re-locking it. After that she rolled up her lockpicks, put them in her pocket, and went to the little desk under the window. Upon the desk were two neatly stacked piles of paper, as well as several leather-bound books, writing implements and (for some reason) a small pewter statue of a lizard. Miya picked up a piece of paper from one of the piles and held it up to get a better look—the sun had almost set but it wasn’t quite dark yet, and she’d always had good night vision in any case. The handwriting was tidy but small and rather scrunched up, and Miya had a hard time deciphering it at first—it took her more than a minute to realise that it was some kind of official form, something to do with requisitioning. After another minute Miya figured out what was being requisitioned—more forms. She grunted and put the paper back down on its pile, then picked up one of the books, a journal by the looks of it. She was just about to open it when she heard footsteps in the hall outside. Instantly, the book was back on the table and Miya was half-crouched, alert, listening to the voices outside the door:
“—should have a good time. I’m looking forward to it already.”
That’s his voice, Miya thought. I’d recognise that nasal Highland whine anywhere.
“I must admit, you’ve impressed me. You don’t seem to have any of the more aggravating Highland traits.”
Mum, Miya thought, slightly shocked. What do you mean, ‘impressed’?
“Aha, yes—arrogance, bull-headedness, avarice, indifference—”
“If we’re going to list them all, we could be standing here all night.”
Miya’s mouth dropped in shocked dismay as she heard Alvin and her mother laughing together.
“I’m afraid that I may possess a few of the lesser ‘aggravating Highland traits’, however—long-windedness, for one.”
“The help that you gave me today was certainly worth a little verbosity. Thank you, by the way.”
What do you mean, ‘help’? Miya thought. When did he ‘help’ Mum? I’ve got to pay more attention around here!
“Ah, it was my pleasure. I’ll be blunt, I know that I have to prove myself to you! I understand that you cannot trust me, not completely, not so soon, but I hope that in time—”
“Yes, well, you’re right about that—nothing personal, of course.”
“Of course.”
“On that subject, how have the people of the island been treating you?”
“Ah … er … ‘mixed’ is perhaps the simplest way to describe the reactions I’ve had, although I’m gratified that no actual violence has been visited upon my person just yet. I, erm, I was spat at by a few people, however.”
Miya could almost hear her mother’s expression hardening.
“I’m disappointed to hear that.”
“Well, I expected worse, to be perfectly honest, and I can’t entirely blame them—”
“No. That is not acceptable behaviour. Perhaps tomorrow afternoon I should accompany you into town—”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly ask you—”
“I insist, Mr Hawksthorne. ‘Perhaps to a Queen as Maybe to a Cat’.”
Miya clenched her teeth together as she heard Alvin laugh—Mum, she thought, why are you using stupid Highland expressions?
“Well, I’m sure it would be helpful, just to begin with—”
“We should see about finding you a more permanent office as well. We are in the middle of something of a space shortage presently, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I believe I may know where we can squeeze you in.”
“That would be most excellent, to have a place in the town to which the people of this island could come to talk with me—I really am excited about the potential for communication, I think Goldmeadow can learn a lot from Clover Island.”
“Perhaps so. In any case, I will bid you good night now. I’m sure that, like me, you have work to attend to.”
“Always. Good night, Queen Lilith.”
“I think simply ‘Lilith’ would be fine, Alvin. Seeing as I’m not actively trying to intimidate you at this point in time.”
They both laughed.
“As you say,” said Alvin. He unlocked the door to his room and walked inside, let out a quiet breath, then frowned as a cool breeze blew against his arm—he walked to the window, which he must have left ajar, and closed it firmly.
Down below, in the bushes beneath the window, Miya scowled to herself. There’s got to be something bad going on here, she thought, as she made her way around the house, the Highland can’t change so quickly—those clouds look ugly, it’ll be rain tomorrow—no way is that ‘Alvin’ guy just here to ‘learn’ from us, I mean, YES, Clover Island is great, the greatest actually, CLEARLY it’s the best place in the whole world, but it’s not like anyone’s ever realised that before. Why now?
“That’s the question,” Miya muttered to herself, as she started climbing up to her own bedroom window. “Why now?”
Next:
3
New Friends For Old
