Miya Black, Pirate Princess I: Adventure Dawns Read online

  "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 DOING?" 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.

  *

  The monkeys were really getting noisy now. Must be some kind of monkey party going on over there, thought Miya, as she focused on working her knife into the deck of her ship. Surrounding the stern deck, helping to stop clumsy people from falling overboard, were beautiful dark wooden rails. Whenever Miya was feeling down or stressed (or just bored) she carved a clover into the deck, in the gaps between the supports—over the years she'd carved one into almost every gap. As Miya chipped away at the hard wood, using the knife Lars had given her for her birthday (it really was very sharp indeed), she idly wondered what she'd do once she'd filled every gap with a clover symbol. Maybe start carving MY symbol into the gaps, she thought. An arrow striking through each clover.

  Miya frowned a little as she considered the symbolism of this; it might send the wrong message. On the other hand it would look pretty cool.

  "So what, anyway," she muttered, stabbing at the deck. "I know what they really think of my 'worth'."

  *

  "Miya. Miya, I'd like to talk to you."

  Miya lay on her bed, face buried in a pillow.

  "It's important, Miya. It's not a mother-daughter thing. It's for the sake of the island."

  Miya sighed into her pillow, then flopped herself over and let herself slide off her bed. She lay on the floor a few seconds then forced herself to get up, walking to her bedroom door and opening it a crack.

  "Yes?" she said.

  "I have a very special and important request for you. We both know that your father has—"

  "Yes, we both know what Dad did. You don't need to say it," said Miya. "What do you want?"

  Queen Lilith looked at her daughter.

  "I'm not the expert on sailing that you and your father are. But I know that your ship is the fastest we have."

  "The fastest in the Necessary Ocean," said Miya, a flutter of excitement stirring in her chest.

  "Yes," said her mother, smiling. "And I feel it's very important that we get a message to your father—that we open lines of communication, and as quickly as possible."

  "I ... I agree," said Miya, eyes bright.

  "Good. So, it is with th
at in mind—"

  "Yes?" said Miya, expectantly.

  "—that I request the use of your ship, to send a messenger to him."

  "What."

  "Captain Sparks has volunteered for this role, with a small crew backing her up. Apparently your father gave each captain a choice—"

  "What do you mean, 'request the use of your ship'? What do you mean 'Captain Sparks has volunteered'? I could do it! I ... I'm a great sailor, I know the Black Swan better than anyone, I bet I could catch up to Dad in a day, less than a day, I bet you I could be back here before first light tomorrow morning if I started now. Why not me?"

  "Miya, I couldn't possibly ask you to sail into hostile waters, and right now even the waters close to the island must be considered hostile."

  "Who needs to ask? I'm volunteering, I want to do this!"

  "No, you're not listening to me. Your safety is always our greatest concern, that is something your father and I never disagreed on—"

  "Mum, I won't be in any danger, you just said yourself that my ship's the fastest we have, even if I do see one of Pete's ships I could outsail it!"

  "No, Miya, I can't let you go. This isn't something you can argue. It's too dangerous, you're too much of a target—"

  "A TARGET? Did you just call me a TARGET?"

  "I meant—"

  "No. No, you can't have my ship. I'm not letting anyone else sail it. If you want to send it after Dad, I go with it."

  "I can't—"

  "Fine then. Guess you'll have to find another ship."

  Miya pushed past her mother and stomped downstairs, slamming the front door behind her as she left.

  *

  Miya sighed. It wasn't fair. Why can't anyone see what a great sailor I am? Why can't they understand that I can take care of myself? Why can't anyone look past the fact that I'm a princess? Why can't they see that I'm a pirate, too?

  "WHY?" she screamed suddenly, grabbing the ship's wheel and using it to pull herself to her feet. She stomped to the stern of her ship and grabbed the rail, took the deepest breath she could and then screamed again, "WHY?"

  "I don't know. What's the question?"

  Miya spun, her knife in her hand. At first she couldn't see anyone, but then she realised the intruder on her ship was Sola, standing silent and still on the main deck.

  "What are you doing here?" she demanded. "How'd you find me?"

  "I asked your friend Penny where you would go if you were truly upset," said Sola. He turned and pulled on a rope, securing his canoe to the side of the ship.

  "Don't get too comfortable," Miya said sharply. "I haven't exactly invited you on board."

  "Of course," said Sola, straightening. "Permission to come aboard, Captain?"

  "Granted, I suppose," Miya said, after a moment. "I guess you finished that book about sailing, then?"

  "Yes. It's not as complicated as I thought it would be."

  "Huh."

  "What is the question?" Sola asked, as he knelt to finish securing his canoe.

  "What?"

  "The question. You asked 'why?', so I wondered, 'why what?'."

  Miya shrugged, a little embarrassed that Sola had heard but determined not to show it. "Why whatever."

  " 'Why doesn't my mother trust my competence?'? 'Why doesn't my father listen to me?'?"

  "Have you been eavesdropping on me? Spying on me?"

  "You are very loud sometimes. You make it difficult not to hear."

  "Oh."

  "And now you ask, 'why shouldn't I go after my father?'," said Sola. Miya shook her head.

  "No. That's not it. He's doing his thing. I ... I kind of ... I wish he'd told me. I don't know why he didn't. He's never ... he's never just gone off like that before."

  "Then you are going to search for your grandparents?"

  Miya looked at Sola, then nodded. In honesty, when she'd stormed out of the house that evening and taken her ship out, she hadn't thought about a destination. She'd come here, to her bay, because it was where she came when she was worried, or stressed, or just wanted to escape.

  "I have to do something," she said. "If I stayed here, just waiting, waiting for messages telling me how the battles are going, or waiting to see enemy sails on the horizon ... if I had to just wait, I'd go mad. I have to be out there, doing something, doing anything—and I know I can find my grandparents, I just know it."

  Sola nodded. "I'll help you," he said. Miya stared at him for a moment.

  "You'll what?" she asked, finding her voice.

  "I know how you feel," he said. "If I had to stay, simply indulging myself in your library ... perhaps in a few days I would feel fine, perhaps in a few weeks I would feel fine, but some time in the months or years to follow, I would look back and think to myself 'was that all I could have done?'. And especially knowing that my sister had a plan ... no. I will help you."

  Miya smiled.

  "Also, I don't have faith in your navigational skill."

  Miya's smile vanished.

  "You said that you hadn't read the book on navigation," Sola continued. "That you didn't understand it."

  "Well, yes, maybe, but—"

  "So I believe that you are not skilled at navigation."

  "That's ... that's kind of true, but—"

  "So, I will help you by navigating."

  Miya opened her mouth, then shut it again. She had to admit, she didn't have the patience or head for navigation, and having someone else do all those fiddly calculations and readings would save her a lot of headaches.

  "Well, okay, you can be my navigator," she said. "Um, thanks."

  "Also—"

  "I already said you can come, you don't have to make a big list of my faults," she snapped.

  "This is about me. I ... my people are peaceful, we haven't warred with our neighbours for many years. My grandfather told me that when he was a boy there were some battles, but even then they were mostly settled by blood duels."

  "Blood duels!" Miya's eyes lit up. "Uh, I mean ... um, sorry, that just sounded kind of exciting."

  "It's a simple system. Whoever bleeds first must yield."

  "Oh, okay. To first blood, with our system," said Miya, feeling slightly proud to include herself in a piratical 'our'.

  "To come to my point, I am a peaceful person. I use my spear for fishing and hunting, or in duelling games with my cousins or those from other villages. I am not among the weaker in my village," said Sola, with some pride in his voice. "Before Badger Pete came ... before that day, I had never thought of raising my spear in anger. It was a tool, or a toy of sorts. But seeing my people enslaved, my village burned ..."

  Sola paused a long moment, looking out past Miya to the north, before speaking again:

  "Badger Pete made me look at my tools and see weapons. Reading the book in your library, the one that confused me until your explanation, I found many stories that spoke of revenge."

  Sola paused, as if considering this. He looked down at his big hands, then up at Miya.

  "I want revenge," he said. "I want to do something that will hurt Badger Pete. I know I can do little by myself. But if your ... if OUR grandparents can help us to defeat him, then we should seek them."

  Miya took a deep breath. "Did that sailing book you read have anything about helming a ship?"

  "Yes."

  "Then unlock the wheel, mate, and prepare to sail."

  Miya hauled up the anchor then climbed into the rigging, untied the sails and let them unfurl. She patted the mast and smiled, then called out, clear and loud:

  "Bring me that horizon, and all the treasures it hides!"

  5

  The Miya Black Guide To Widening Your Social Circle And Making Your Name Known

  Miya stood at the bow of her ship, feeling the wind on her skin and the ocean spray on her face, the clean, strong smell of the sea filling her head as they sailed forth through the night ocean. She wore her father's sword at her side, hanging from a light leather belt that just barely fit her, a lon
g length sticking out from the buckle. Her trousers were dark brown and sturdy, and her shirt was white, strong and unrestrictive. On her head she wore a bandanna in her family colours of green and black, in her favourite 'headband' style—tied at the back, peaking up at the front, leaving her hair mostly uncovered. She'd spent some time the night before fashioning her birthday coin into an earring, which she wore in her left ear. The knife Lars had given her hung from her belt, and she wore a simple copper bracelet on her right wrist, from which dangled a tiny horseshoe carved of wood, a small blue stone, and a tiny shell that shone blue and green in the moonlight. On her feet were good, strong, tall boots of dark brown leather, well-suited to the rigours of sailing. It was a good few hours before first light, the winds were favourable, the sails were full, and Clover Island had been left well behind.

  Miya jumped down to the main deck, then up to the stern, where Sola was still at the wheel.

  "Did you really figure that out from just reading a book?" she asked, watching him adjust the ship's course to catch better wind. He nodded.

  "It was explained clearly," he said.

  "And navigation, you're like an expert now just from reading that book?" Miya sat down with her back up against the rails, closed her eyes for a moment—she hadn't slept that night, and excitement was beginning to give way to fatigue.

  "Not an expert, but the basics are clear. Much of what was in the book was an explanation of what I already knew. The stars are constant; they show the way."

  A few peaceful minutes passed. Miya smiled as a night breeze blew through her hair, making her bandanna flutter just slightly.

  "I have an important question," said Sola, after a time. Miya opened her eyes and looked up at him.

  "What's for breakfast?" he asked.

  "Hm," said Miya. She stood. "That IS an important question. I think there's some food in the galley, go and have a rummage around. I'll take the wheel for a bit."