Miya Black, Pirate Princess I: Adventure Dawns (12 page)

The contents had been covered with a layer of fine dust, but aside from that seemed to have survived the years remarkably well. There was a small knife in a scabbard (probably his first weapon, thought Miya, remembering how her father had once told her he'd been given a knife almost as soon as he could hold it on his own), as well as around a dozen compasses (her father had collected them at one point, after becoming terribly lost thanks to a poorly-made compass failing him), a vicious-looking tooth that looked almost long enough to use as a dagger (Miya thought it was probably from a large shark), a long length of yellow ribbon, tied into a neat bow (it looked familiar to Miya, but she couldn't quite place it), a crude eye patch (but he has both his eyes, Miya thought), a bit of dry, rubbery, red skin (what the heck did this come from, Miya wondered, as she held it up to examine it, and why does it smell so bad?), a very small painting of a city skyline at night (having never been outside of the Rainbow Archipelago, Miya didn't recognise the city), an ordinary-looking arrow, broken in half (I'm pretty sure Dad never used a bow, Miya thought, so where did this come from?), a tiny, rather crudely carved wooden ship, missing its mast (Miya liked the blood red colour that parts of the toy had been painted), a bit of strangely-shaped iron (after examining it for a moment, Miya realised it was a broken-off hook from a grapple), a scrap of old, yellowed fabric (it looked like it'd been torn from a dress), two pieces of thin rope, one a faded blue colour, the other faded red, tied together in an intricate knot (Miya was fascinated by this but had no idea what it was supposed to represent, if anything), a bit of sharpened metal, one end wrapped in dirty cloth (after a moment Miya realised that it was actually meant to be a crude knife), a small, ragged bit of black shark's skin (maybe from a panther shark, Miya thought with a small shiver), a sword hilt with about two inches of blade left, the rest having broken off (Miya didn't know the story behind this one), the dried skull of some kind of weird-looking fish (it had dozens of tiny, needle-sharp teeth—privately Miya decided that whatever this fish was, she never wanted to meet a live one), a long, burnt splinter of wood (Miya looked at this a while but couldn't figure out why her father had kept it at all; eventually she decided it had probably ended up in the chest by mistake), a large piece of curved, slightly tarnished metal (maybe part of an old suit of armour, Miya decided), the old, broken-off heel of a boot (Black Boots, Miya thought with a smile), a bit of green cloth with a symbol sewn into it in gold thread (some sort of royal thing, Miya thought, probably Highland—but I don't recognise the symbol), a small carved wooden idol decorated with faded purple feathers (Miya felt oddly sad at this one, although she didn't know why), a few old charts (all quite out of date, from what Miya could make out), a number of shells and rocks, a jar of different types of sand ... and several bundles of letters.

Fighting back the feelings of guilt, swearing to herself that if she so much as suspected that the letters contained anything personal or otherwise unrelated to her mission she would stop reading them immediately, Miya picked up the first bundle. She undid the old ribbon tying them together, unfolded the first one, and read the first word. It was 'to'. That seemed harmless enough, so she read the second word, which was 'my'. Although she was beginning to get a sick kind of fluttery wrong feeling in her stomach, Miya pressed on, but upon reading the third word ('darling'), she immediately refolded the letter, shoved it back into the bundle and tied the ribbon tightly around it, before exhaling sharply.

"Okay," she said to herself. "Not that bundle."

Miya glanced back, at the entrance to the attic, then picked up the second bundle. This one was tied with string rather than ribbon, which seemed a good sign to her, so she untied it and unfolded one and, with one eye closed, read the first word, which was 'total'. This seemed a little strange, so she read on, soon realising that this bundle was a bunch of receipts and trade records. She was puzzled as to why her father had these in the first place, let alone why he'd kept them. He'd certainly never been a trader. Had he? In any case there weren't any clues to be found there, so she folded up the letters and tied them with the string, and turned her attention to the third, most tatty-looking, smallest bundle. It was so tatty-looking, in fact, that it seemed as if it could fall apart at any moment. But, Miya thought, I'm not going to get anywhere by being cautious. To her horror, though, as she untied the bundle most of the letters actually did fall apart in her hands—the paper was cheap and dry and old, and despite her care she was unable to save much except for one, which seemed to be on better quality paper and was perhaps more recent than the others. Feeling intensely guilty about destroying the other letters, she unfolded it. Her heart did a little somersault as her eyes were automatically drawn to the large signature at the bottom—JB! Jonathan Black, she thought, this is a letter from my grandfather!

Miya took a little breath, forced herself to be calm, then started reading from the beginning:

January 30th, 1790

Tommy Boy,

Cheers for your letter, don't get much mail these days. Took two months to get to me, maybe a new record. World's moving faster and faster, hard to keep up sometimes.

Wasn't surprised to hear about the state of things down your way, but then if you had any brains you wouldn't be either. You never were one to take good advice when it was offered. Still can't say I'm happy about what you're doing now, but good luck to you if that's your choice. Could always use a decent swabbie so if you ever change your mind about things seek me out. Just kidding. I know you've captained a ship yourself so taking orders wouldn't sit well with you I'm guessing. Especially from your old man.

Still can't believe you've got a squirt of your own now, seems not so long ago you were toddling around with that wee blade of yours pretending to be a pirate king or some such nonsense. Makes things hard, don't it? Harder than they should be. I know plenty of kids done well with just their mother around to raise them, so don't let it get in your way.

Speaking of that, I haven't seen hide nor hair of your mother since we met last year, heard a couple of rumours she was up around Spirea but you know how that manner of thing goes. I'm hoping to meet up with her sometime soon, even if it's a repeat of things better left unsaid, you know what I'm talking about.

Where was I last I wrote you? The Diamond Isles? Don't believe the name, lad, there's not a diamond to be found on any of 'em! Not that I was looking for diamonds. Most of the big countries have changed a lot of their shipping routes, it's exciting times if you find a good busy area but it means a lot of the old haunts aren't as fruitful as they once was. The Diamond Isles served me well for a long while but they're too quiet these days, nothing like the old times. Might try heading Bloodclot Reef way, heard it's a rough sort of place so it might suit me well, eh? Doesn't pay to get too comfortable, but you shouldn't need me to tell you that.

Give my regards to your wife. As for your squirt, just you make sure she knows she's a Black. None of this bloody royal nonsense, can't see that doing a child anything but harm. She's got pirate in her blood, boy, and there ain't nothing that can change that.

Better sign off here, pub's getting rowdy. If I can write again I will. If I can't I won't.

Good sailing,

JB

Miya blinked, tears trickling down her cheeks as she did so.

"Must be the dust," she murmured, then she read the letter again, excitement growing to replace the guilt. The Diamond Isles! Bloodclot Reef! Neither of those places are too far away, she thought, a week's travel if we push ourselves, maybe even less! And then maybe a day or two to track down my grandfather, and then maybe he'll know where my grandmother is, and then another week back here, what had Dad said? One or two weeks for Badger Pete to get here? But that was before we knew about his detour to Triangle Island, and also he's probably travelling slower because of his bigger-than-we-thought gang—

"We can do this," Miya said to herself. "We can really do this!"

*

" 'We'," Miya muttered. "Hah."

She rolled onto her back and looked up at the stars, tried to find her constellation. She'd never been that good at astronomy, but after a few minutes of searching she found The Sword, and using that as a reference she quickly located The Arrow. She'd always secretly thought it looked a little lop-sided, and tonight was no different.

"Straighten out, you stupid arrow," she said. "Show a little discipline, you lazy stars."

The longer she looked at the constellation the more annoyed she got, until she couldn't stand it any more and rolled back over onto her stomach. She spotted another pebble and flicked it into the water, watched it hit the surface with a tiny 'plop'. She looked at the spot it had hit for a while, then rolled onto her side and looked out to the north, trying to picture what lay beyond her sight.

"Why'd you go?" she murmured. "Why'd you go without me?"

*

Miya flew down the stairs, brushing roughly at her clothes as she went, trying to rid herself of the dust and cobwebs. She blew past her mother near the front door with a quick "See you later, Mum!", not pausing to hear her response.

She hurtled down the cliff path and into town, heading for the docks. There weren't many people around in the upper parts of town, but she didn't really take much notice of this. What did catch her attention, though, were the crowds gathered around the port. Must be a ship coming in, or leaving maybe, she thought. She pushed through the crowds, heading for the far side of the port, to the Dragon's Spine, a natural rise in the land on top of which a small fort had been constructed. If Dad's meeting with the captains then he'll definitely be there, Miya thought, all I have to do is—

Then she broke through the crowd, and saw the ships leaving the harbour.

Three corvettes and her father's brig; almost half of the Black Navy.

Miya stood on the docks, physically unable to move for a few seconds, paralysed by shock and disappointment.

Then she was running, up the longest pier, pushing past people without thought, boots pounding against the sturdy wood until she was at the end of the wharf.

"WHAT ARE YOU D
OING
?" she yelled at the distant ships. "JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

Then she sank to her knees, suddenly exhausted, defeated, her clothes covered in dust, cobwebs in her hair, the princess of Clover Island; just one girl in all the world.

*

Miya sat with her back against the ship's wheel, listening to the sounds of the jungle at night. Mostly the night jungle was the domain of insects, in particular a kind of large green cicada, but there was also a group of small, wide-eyed monkeys (whose diet consisted mostly of large green cicadas) that hunted nocturnally. Their distant shrieks and howls were a familiar and comforting sound to Miya—she often heard them from her bedroom at night. From where her ship was anchored now their calls were clear and loud, and Miya felt she could even make out individuals—here a clever, active monkey, there a worried, protective monkey, there a lazy, anxious monkey.

"Lucky monkeys," muttered Miya. "I bet a monkey never had to deal with all the nonsense I do."

She stared at the dark jungle on the shore for a while, trying to imagine what her life would be like if she were a monkey.

"Simpler, I bet," was the conclusion she came to. "Way simpler."

*

After seeing her father leave with half the navy, Miya had sullenly made her way back through town and up to her house, ignoring everything, a girl defeated. Her mother was holding some sort of meeting in the nice lounge when she got home; Miya tried to avoid her but couldn't help stomping a little on her way up the stairs to the second floor.

"Miya—excuse me, please, I must speak with my daughter for a moment—Miya, is that you home?"

Miya stopped, halfway up the stairs. "No," she said. Her mother appeared below.

"I'm holding a meeting to discuss our response to this situation," said Lily. "Would you like to attend?"

"Not really."

"Are you sure? I'd love you to be part of it."

"What's the point? No one listens to me anyway, and no one tells me anything until it's too late. Sometimes not even then."

"Oh, come now, Miya! Don't be such a Grumpy Gloria, you know your father and I value your contributions greatly."

"Whatever. Why didn't Dad listen to my plan, then? Why'd he just go off without even telling me? He didn't care about what I said at all."

"What."

Her mother's tone made Miya turn around to look at her.

"You didn't know?"

"What did your father do?" asked Queen Lilith, her voice calm, her tone dangerous.

"He—"

"Miya. What has your father done?"

"He ... you didn't know?"

"What. Has. He. Done?"

"If you go outside now you can probably still see the sails—"

Miya watched her mother stomp outside, and smiled. Good! At least I'm not the only one that doesn't get told things around here! Then the smile faded from her face. Her father had never been underhanded with her mother before, not like this. Oh, sure, he'd snuck around behind her back and organised things without her knowing in the past, but that was different ... when it came down to it, he'd never actually
done
anything without her knowledge and approval, however reluctantly (or late) it came. Every decision about the island, no matter how hard and long they argued about it, was made together—even if that meant one or the other had to go along with a decision they didn't fully support. Taking half the navy and leaving, without even telling Mum ... Miya bit her lip and walked up the stairs, a heavy pit in her stomach. Somehow it didn't make her feel any better, that she wasn't the only one he hadn't told. It didn't make her feel better at all.