by Ben White
"Probably not," she muttered to herself, then she took her hands out of her pockets and ran up the path.
*
Blackport really is a pretty town, Miya thought. I know I don't have much to compare it to, just the towns on Triangle Island and Outlook Island really ... but there's no question, it beats the pants off them in terms of prettiness. I even like how all the houses are kind of squashed up against each other ... I don't know, it just looks friendly.
Most of the houses in Blackport were made of light wood, or bricks made from the golden-yellow clay found on the eastern side of the island, or a combination of the two. That was just the basis of things, though; for whatever reason, Clover Islanders tended towards a love of colour—almost every house was painted brightly, flags and flowers could be seen everywhere, and at least a dozen houses had full vegetable gardens on their flat roofs. Maybe it's because lots of artists come here, Miya thought. Like Mr Petic, he's painted those cute trees and flowers on nearly every exposed wall on his entire street now. And Ms Dahlia with that big mural she did against the cliff, all those spirals and shapes and amazing colours.
"... have you been listening to a single word I've said?"
Miya continued gazing out the window for a few seconds before she realised her mother had asked her a direct question.
"Um ... yes?"
"Come on, Miya," said Lily. "I know these lessons aren't your favourite but they ARE important. Like it or not, you are a princess. There are certain things you have to know."
"But they're so BORING. And I can't see where I'd ever need to know about ... about ... what am I learning about today?"
"Miya, honestly. You've filled almost a whole page of your workbook with notes, what have you been writing?"
"I have? Oh wow, I have! That's kind of impressive, right? I wasn't even looking when I wrote most of that." Miya peered at her handwriting, trying to decipher what she'd written. "Um ... salutation? Wait, what? Why are we doing salutation AGAIN?"
"In order for you to remember it."
"But I do remember it! I remember how boring it is!"
"Well, maybe you could tell me what salutation is, then."
"What, don't YOU know?"
"Miya."
"All right, fine." Miya sighed, then put on a bored, sing-song voice: "Salutation is the right of royalty to ... to present themselves—"
"To be presented."
"—to be presented before the ... guys in charge. Kind of like parley."
"Not precisely. Salutation is—"
"Why do I have to study all these rules and little nitpicky annoying details? Basically all it means is that if I'm somewhere new I can go talk to the king or mayor or whatever, right? That's just like, I don't know, common sense or something, why do I need to remember all this useless stuff?"
"Miya."
"Well it is! It's all so USELESS! Why can't I just read something from the library instead of studying this? I'm sure I learn more from stories than from THIS thing."
'THIS thing' was the huge, heavy tome that Lilith used to teach her daughter; 'The Royal Code'. It was a complex book that attempted to unify the royal laws of Algernon and the Highland, the two most powerful nations in the Western Necessary Ocean.
"This book is the reason we have this island at all," said Lily, calmly. "It's important to understand the rules of the world you live in, Miya. I know that you think of yourself as a 'girl of action', I know you'd rather be riding your horse or exploring the island or out on your ship, or even down at the docks helping your father coil ropes, but action without understanding is futile—dangerous, even."
Queen Lilith looked at her daughter, at the look of annoyed incomprehension on her face. She let out a patient sigh.
"Someday you'll understand," she said.
*
"I knew you'd be in here."
Tomas looked up at his daughter, who was standing in the doorway to his little library with a smug smile on her face.
"I'm so predictable, I know," he said. "Off to bed already?"
"Yeah, I thought I'd turn in early, get rested up for tomorrow."
"What's tomorrow?" Tomas asked, putting a book back in a bookshelf.
"Um, hello? My birthday?"
"Just teasing, Coconut." Miya's father inspected the books on the shelf, then reached out to take one.
" 'Necessary Tales'?" said Miya.
"What with your birthday coming up and all, it reminded me of when I used to read to you," said Tomas, smiling fondly at the book's cover. "This was always your favourite."
"Yeah, when I was younger."
"You're not so old yet."
"I'll be fourteen tomorrow, that's pretty old."
"Hah. Try looking at it from the wrong side of forty."
"I can't even IMAGINE being THAT old."
"Oh. My own daughter's words, they do wound me so," said Tomas, grinning. He put the book back. "Maybe I have read that one too many times. It's almost falling apart anyway. Oh, hey, your mother's going to be busy organising things tomorrow, but my part is pretty much done. What are you going to do with your morning?"
"Dunno. Get ready for the competition, maybe."
"It's been a while since we did something, just the two of us. What do you say we take your ship out? We could sail around to your beach, see how that money tree of yours is doing."
"Dad." Miya shook her head, trying to keep from smiling. "Well ... I guess that could be kind of okay."
"Goodness, the enthusiasm of her, I can barely keep up with the youthful exuberance," said Tomas. "Early start?"
"Sure."
"Beat the sun?"
"Mm, I dunno ..."
"Come on, let's make it an adventure. Sneak out while everyone's asleep, while it's still dark ..." Tomas grinned at his daughter.
"Well, if it'll be an adventure, I guess ..."
"That's set then. PP?" Tomas held out his hand.
"Dad. PPs are kind of childish, don't you think?"
"If you can call a promise between two people that death itself would have a hard time breaking 'childish', then maybe."
"Okay, okay, PP," said Miya, taking her father's hand and performing a complicated gesture with him. "It's the name, I think, rather than what it actually is. It should sound more grown-up. Like 'blood oath', now that sounds serious."
"A blood oath is something different."
"Oh?" Miya perked up, suddenly interested. "What is it?"
"... nothing you need worry about," said Tomas. "Off to bed now, if we're to beat the sun."
Miya grumbled for a bit as her father tousled her hair.
"Aren't you getting a book?" she asked, as he walked to the door.
"Not tonight. I don't need one. I'll just think of the adventures we'll have together."
"Goodnight, Dad."
"Goodnight, Coconut."
2
The Most Eventful Fourteenth Birthday Anyone On Clover Island Ever Had
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."<
br />
"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.