by Ben White
"What a team!" she said, releasing him. "She'll never catch us now! Okay, let me have the wheel a moment."
Sola smiled and stepped back, letting Miya take the wheel in her hands.
"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" she said, squeezing the wheel. "Yeah, me too. Woo! Okay. That was fun. Right, now all that excitement's over with I'd better change out of these wet clothes."
"Do you need help?"
"Um, I think I can probably manage to change by myself."
"No, I didn't mean ..." Sola trailed off, obviously embarrassed.
"I'm just kidding with ya, see you in a bit."
Miya disappeared into her cabin and emerged a few minutes later, wearing a white woollen jersey and black trousers, and leather sandals instead of her wet boots. She tied a thin rope to one of the railings on the stern deck, then tied the other end to the mast. Then she spent a few minutes hanging up her wet clothes, whistling happily, using wooden pegs to make sure they wouldn't fly off the line.
"Grace won't even be a sail on the horizon soon," Miya said, as she pegged her bandanna to the line. "Well done us. Well done, my loving ship."
"I have a question," said Sola. Miya hung her wet boots upside down on two of the mast's climbing pegs, then skipped up to Sola and grinned at him, hands on hips.
"What's up?" she asked.
"Were there islanders on that ship?"
Miya's grin disappeared. "Yes," she said. "A lot."
Sola made a short, low, discontented noise. "As crew?"
Miya nodded. "I didn't see any prisoners. But I didn't get the chance to explore all the ship. Actually I couldn't even find the powder keg before I, y'know, got spotted." Miya pursed her lips. "It was one of the islanders that did it. I ran into them on the crew deck and they ratted me out. I thought they'd be happy to see me! I mean, I tried to explain why I was there, but ..."
Sola nodded. "Think of what they have at risk—"
"I know, I know ... all their families ... I probably would've raised the alarm too. I ... this is going to be harder than we thought, isn't it?"
Sola didn't move or speak for a moment, then he grunted. "I never thought it would be easy."
"I guess I had kind of an unrealistic idea of how things would go. And, oh ... my dinghy," said Miya, suddenly remembering what had happened. "I learnt to row in that. Mum and Dad used to take me out in it, we'd row around the island and look for nice picnic spots ... what a thing to do, hacking up a person's beloved dinghy and sinking it! What kind of a person does that, I ask you? That Grace Morgon ... I'm gonna meet her again."
"The captain of that ship?"
"Yes. She said she was Badger Pete's daughter."
"Do you believe her?"
Miya narrowed her eyes.
"Absolutely," she said.
They sailed on, leaving Grace's ship behind—within an hour they couldn't see it even with Miya's spyglass. Sola found a sextant in Miya's cabin she hadn't even known was there, and after experimenting with it for half an hour he figured out where they were. He and Miya studied the chart together, and after some calculations (well, Sola had done the calculations, Miya had watched) they figured they were around a day and a half away from Biscuit Cove.
"Grace is probably still following us," Miya said, as she looked at the chart. "We're faster than she is, but I don't think we can risk stopping. Not with her behind us."
"If we continue on our present course, with the wind we have enjoyed so far, we should reach Biscuit Cove shortly before tomorrow morning—that is if we continue sailing throughout the day and through the night."
Miya chewed her lip. The escape from Grace's ship had taken a lot out of her, although she didn't want to admit that out loud. Sailing through the night held very little appeal.
"Change course," she said, after a moment. "We'll head into the Trinket Chain. It should throw Grace off our trail, although we'll have to be careful not to hit anything."
"I travelled along the western edge of this chain on my journey to Clover Island. It did not seem particularly dangerous."
"We should still be careful. Dad never let me sail into the chain before, even though technically we kind of own part of it."
Sola frowned. "How can you 'own' it?"
"I know, it's weird. Mum forced me to study the whole thing, quite frankly it seems ridiculous and COMPLETELY unnecessary to me."
Sola made a kind of annoyed grunt. "This kind of idea ... I don't like it," he said.
"I don't either. But I guess it doesn't really change anything, us owning it, I mean it's not like anyone wants to live there, and even if they did ... oh, wait a minute, maybe that's part of the reason ... actually I'm kind of remembering some stuff now." Miya frowned for a moment as she tried to remember what her mother had painstakingly taught her. "It's like ... we're not going to do anything there, with the islands I mean. But unless we 'own' them, then someone else, someone bad—someone like the Highland—could come along and take them? It's something like that, it's like ... like protection."
Sola considered this. "I suppose if I had to entrust these islands to anyone, it would be to people such as your parents." He thought for a moment longer, then shook his head. "Even so."
"I know, I guess it's one of those 'this is how the world works' things. You can't just leave an island uninhabited without saying something like 'by the way this is ours', because otherwise bad guys could come along and grab it, like 'just because nobody's using this doesn't mean you can use it for something bad'." Miya let out an irritated breath. "Anyway, let's stop talking about that, it's starting to make me annoyed."
Sola nodded. "We should consider our course through the chain—"
"Oh yeah! Okay, so, I figure we can head through like this," Miya said, tracing a route on the chart, "then pop out here, head north-east for a bit, and we should reach Biscuit Cove without any problems. Sound good?"
Sola nodded. "I'll chart the course," he said. Miya beamed.
"You're so useful," she said. "I'm gonna head up to the crow's nest and play with my spyglass for a while."
Sola nodded, already measuring and writing coordinates in a notebook. Miya paused in the doorway, her hand on the frame.
"Do you, y'know, actually enjoy all this kind of stuff?"
Sola paused and raised his head. "It's ... satisfying," he said, after a moment. "Yes, I enjoy it."
Miya nodded, then pointed out to the deck. "Be out here. Just call when you need me."
"I will."
Sola returned to his calculations as Miya walked out onto the deck of her ship. It had turned into a fine, clear day, the sun shining brightly across the deep blue ocean, the waves high but even, a strong wind blowing from the south. Above there was barely a cloud to be seen, although a few seagulls cried in the distance. Miya looked at them.
"Hm," she said, before slipping the spyglass's strap over her shoulder. She climbed easily to the crow's nest then extended the spyglass and raised it to her eye, looking in the direction of the gulls. The small black speck of an island in the distance confirmed her guess; they were already near the Trinket Chain. She smiled and looked in other directions, but didn't see anything interesting. After spending a while trying to track the seagulls as they flew, with varying degrees of success, Miya lowered the spyglass and leaned against the mast with a happy sigh, then hugged herself, grinning.
"Adventure!"
*
As Sola finished plotting their new course, Miya sailed the ship into the Trinket Chain. The islands here were small but beautiful, formed of light grey rock and covered in lush green foliage, the water around them a brilliant blue, lighter than it had been outside of the chain. Although the ocean was fairly shallow, only a few metres deep in some places, the Black Swan had a small draft and there didn't seem to be any danger of grounding—there were no sand bars or submerged rocks, the only 'obstacles' being the islands themselves, which were well-spaced and easily avoided with a minimum of vigilance.
"It's so beaut
iful here," Miya said, gazing somewhat longingly at a golden beach on one of the larger islands. "From the outside you can't even tell how pretty it all is. It's really a shame we're in a hurry, I'd love to stop and explore, maybe find some fruit, go for a swim, have a picnic—go fishing, even."
"It would be interesting to spend some time observing the fish here, certainly," said Sola.
"Yeah, that sounds fascinating," said Miya, her face straight.
By the time the sun was setting they'd nearly made it through the chain, ready to head out for the open ocean once more, towards Biscuit Cove.
"It's getting dark," Miya said, looking up at the sky. "And we definitely deserve a proper break after all that excitement this morning ... what do you say, Sola? Let's drop anchor by the island over there and rest for the night."
Sola nodded, and they prepared to anchor off the island, which was one of the larger they'd seen, large enough to have a small beach and even a bay of sorts. After dropping anchor and preparing the ship for rest, Miya borrowed Sola's canoe and had a little paddle around. At first she had some difficulty, being used to rowing squat, stable dinghies, but after a while she got the hang of it.
"This is pretty good!" Miya called to Sola, who was sitting cross-legged on the deck, using Miya's knife to sharpen his spear. "I think I prefer a dinghy but still, pretty fun! And you can get it really moving!"
Miya zipped around the little bay for a while before landing on the beach, running barefoot on the sand for a few minutes before putting her sandals back on and exploring the thick foliage beyond, dozens of bright red butterflies cascading out of the narrow trees as she crashed between them. Miya stopped to gaze up at the butterflies as they fluttered away, the fading sun making them glow like lanterns against the pale blue of the dusk sky.
It was starting to get properly dark by the time Miya made her way back to the beach, a string bag filled with wild banana passionfruit tied to her belt. She smiled as she saw a dim glow coming from her ship—Sola must have lit a hooded lantern on the deck, she thought. The sky beyond the ship was a dark grey-blue, the moon shining bright in the sky, dozens of stars already visible. For a moment Miya just stood there, on the sandy beach, an immense feeling of rightness inside her—never mind all the troubles of the world, in this moment, in this perfect moment, everything was fine.
"Wow, you've already got dinner all ready!" Miya said, after pulling herself onto the main deck. "Is that a fish?"
"I scattered some biscuits into the water to test, and this one came to feed," Sola said. "But only this one. Perhaps you could call it luck, or a gift from the ocean."
"In any case, well done!" said Miya, as she finished tying up Sola's canoe. "Canary blues are pretty good fried, or you can stew them up ... although without any spices or stuff it'd be kind of bland. How do you normally cook your fish?"
Sola shrugged. "Some lime juice."
"Like ... fried with lime juice?"
"Just lime juice."
"You mean raw?"
Sola smiled. "I had a similar reaction when I first learned about 'fish stew'."
"Well ... maybe if I get a bit hungrier," said Miya. "For now, we've got delicious bananas—and look, fresh banana passionfruit! And, um, ship's biscuits!" She paused, trying to think of something positive to say about ship's biscuits. "They're ... they've been properly stored and aren't full of bugs!"
The two of them ate together as the sky darkened further, feeling full at the end of the meal but not quite satisfied. Miya tried a small strip of raw fish and admitted that it wasn't quite as gross as she'd expected, but that she was probably fine not having any more right now, thank you.
They talked, as they sat and gazed up at the starry sky, about their homes and more innocent days; Sola laughed deep and long as Miya told him about the time Lars and her father had attempted to 'liberate' Lars's dog Sam from the Blackport pound, an incident that had ended with the two of them being lightly trampled by a dozen dogs of various breeds, and Miya giggled through Sola's recounting of the time he and his cousins had 'borrowed' a rather large aunt's dress to use as the sail for their raft—his description of the dress as it "instantly filled with wind and sent the raft down the river faster than we could chase" had Miya snorting with laughter in a very unladylike manner.
"Mum tells me all the time about how there are so many more stars out here than where she grew up," Miya said, as she sat gazing up at them alongside her brother. "Really, I can't imagine there being any less than this ... what would that even be like? Just a big black sky? Just thinking about it makes me feel a bit weird. The night sky, but with no stars ..."
There was silence for a moment. Then Sola cleared his throat:
"You mean like a cloudy night?"
"No! Sola, where is your sense of romance? I'm sure it'd be different, somehow it'd be different. I'd really like to see it, even if it was just once—I wonder if you could still see the moon? That'd be weird, huh? No stars but just a big moon hanging there ..."
Miya thought about this for a moment, then shivered, then yawned hugely.
"Oh, excuse me," she said. "Maybe I should get to bed, we'll have another busy day tomorrow."
Sola nodded as Miya stood, although he remained sitting, gazing out at the moonlit islands.
"How about you? Are you going to bed? Do you sleep, ever?" Miya asked. Sola laughed.
"Yes, I'm tired," he said. "I was just enjoying the view. I never knew that there were sights such as this."
"You've never come into the Trinket Chain before? But it's so close to your island!"
Sola shrugged. "Perhaps my home is too sheltered. When everything you need is at hand, there is little reason to travel far."
"Huh. I can see heaps of things wrong with THAT way of thinking. Although actually I can't talk since I've never been here either. The islands are pretty, though."
"And such difference, so close. I'd never seen a fish like I caught this evening. What else is there in the world?"
"Aha!" said Miya. She grinned and punched her brother on the shoulder. "You're getting a taste for adventure! The thirst for exploration, the burning desire to know what's over the next horizon, knowing there'll always be another horizon, ah ..." Miya gave a happy sigh. "Adventure."
Sola nodded. "Maybe so."
"Anyway, I'm gonna get some sleep. See you tomorrow!"
"Tomorrow."
Miya stretched again, took a deep breath of the night air, spun around once, then went off to bed, falling asleep almost as soon as she lay down.
*
Miya woke early the next morning, before sunrise, and after eating a breakfast of banana passionfruit and ship's biscuit with Sola they had set out. It was another clear day, the winds constant and the waters calm, the Black Swan skimming along steadily as they left the Trinket Chain behind and headed into the open ocean.
Miya spotted a sail in the far distance just before noon; a big, heavy merchantman. It was flying a green flag.
"Independent trader," she said to Sola. "Coming up from the southern islands. Maybe stopping at Biscuit Cove for supplies or trading—headed for Algernon, I bet. I hope they don't run into any of Badger Pete's lot."
"It seems as though Badger Pete doesn't have a presence in this area," said Sola. Miya shrugged.
"Too many ships from outside the archipelago, maybe. He doesn't want to risk running into a decently armed trader."
They spotted a few more ships as the day went on, the frequency increasing as they neared Biscuit Cove.
"There goes a fast one," said Miya, looking through the spyglass. "It's a sloop, heading south-east by the looks of it. Maybe headed for the Highland."
"We should be near Biscuit Cove now. Maybe I'll perform another check, to make sure."
"Another one? You've done, what, two in the last hour?"
"Three," Sola admitted.
"Do you like doing them or something?"
"It's not a chore," he said, after thinking about it for a moment. Miya sho
ok her head, smiling.
"You're kind of odd in some ways, you know," she said.
The sun had just touched the horizon when Miya first spotted their destination, and by the time they could see it properly it was truly dusk. Biscuit Island turned out to be a rocky, rather uninviting place, but as they rounded it and saw Biscuit Cove the reason for having a port here became obvious; the cove was a natural crescent moon shape, with craggy rock walls surrounding a squat, sprawling town that crouched against the island. The docks themselves seemed fairly informal, half a dozen reaching out into the ocean, no two the same length—it looked like they'd been built to accommodate the flow of sea traffic, more length added as and when it was needed. Dozens of long, tall torches provided light along the piers, thin spirals of black smoke vanishing into the night.
"Oh my goodness," said Miya, standing at the front of the ship, alternately looking through her spyglass to get a close look and lowering it to get a wider view, trying to see everything at once. "Do you see this, Sola? Are you looking?"
"I'm looking," said Sola, his tone lacking in enthusiasm.
"So am I," breathed Miya. "What a port ... it's exactly how I imagined it. Well, not exactly exactly. But it's as good as I imagined it."
"Miya, I ... I will stay with the ship. I don't trust this place."
"I know! It's SO untrustworthy!"
They brought the Black Swan in smoothly, Miya jumping off onto the dock far earlier than she should have, clearing a three-metre gap with her enthusiastic leap. She tied the Swan to the front cleat while Sola did the same with the rear, then she approached a dock worker loitering nearby.
"What do you want, girl?" he asked.
"Princess," Miya said, automatically.
"Eh?"
"Sorry, force of habit. I am a princess but you're not my subject, so don't worry about it. I've just brought my ship in, it's that one there. The Black Swan."
The dock worker looked at Miya's ship, then spat on the dock.
"So what?" he said.
"Isn't there a signing in procedure? Register my name and ship and place on the docks?"