by Ben White
10
Hostile Waters
Miya Black turned slowly, heart beating fast and stomach sinking low as she took in the sight of her rival. Grace was wearing a dress that, to put it quite frankly, took Miya's dress out back and beat it to within an inch of its life. It was big and white and had feathers and ruffs and it went in and out in all the right places. Her shoes were also far more appropriate than Miya's, slim and delicate and tasteful. On top of her head she wore a hat very similar to the one she'd been wearing when Miya last encountered her, except this one was white with a black feather.
As Miya took in Grace's appearance, Grace also took in Miya's. What she saw was a short, plain girl with a scraped face, singed hair and big heavy boots, wearing a dress that was, admittedly, reasonably well-made and with a nice cut and colour, but which the wearer obviously had no idea what to do with.
"You look like a pig that's been taught to wear clothes," said Grace.
"You look like a ... like a cow!"
"What are you doing at my party?" asked Grace, ignoring Miya's 'comeback' as she stepped towards her. "I'm almost certain I didn't invite you."
"Your party?"
"My birthday party," said Grace, smiling. "Everybody's here. Daddy put it on for me, he arranged the whole thing. Were you talking with Anne and Margaret just now? I'm surprised they'd give you the time of day, for all they think of you."
Miya scowled, her hand going to the hilt of a sword that wasn't there.
"Oh my," Grace laughed, "did you just go to draw your sword? Time and place, Miya, time and place. My goodness, you are quite the ruffian, aren't you? Some savage little girl from a backwards little island. Do you know what Anne said about you? She said if one were to shake your family tree, monkeys would fall out. Rather amusing, actually. Still, I suppose that kind of attitude might help you earn a living once you become homeless. Perhaps you could intimidate small children and steal their pocket money."
Miya glared at Grace, not trusting herself to speak a single word without it turning into a wild scream of hatred and fury.
"Clover Island, yes? I recall the name. Clover Island. Clover Island. Clover Island. I just kept repeating it to myself, it seemed so important to remember. If it wasn't for my little party here we'd probably have taken it already, but, you know, a princess such as myself does have certain obligations. And especially after all these lovely people made such an effort to be here—this turnout is remarkable, don't you think?"
"Clover Island will never fall," said Miya, her voice low and controlled. "Especially not to scum like you."
"Goodness, the language of her," said Grace. She laughed. "I can see why you have the reputation that you do. Anne and Margaret were telling me earlier about some of your little temper tantrums, quite amusing. And not just you, I understand. 'Like father like daughter' may be an appropriate expression, yes?"
"Hello, Princess. Who's your friend?"
Miya looked up at the man who had just spoken to Grace. He was tall and broad and quite handsome, wearing a powdered wig and a fine white dinner suit, the very picture of a modern gentleman. But then Miya saw that his hands were scarred and weathered, and his eyes, behind the twinkle of amusement, were deeply cold.
"Oh, Daddy, this is the girl I was telling you about earlier. Miya Black, of Clover Island."
"Ah," said Grace's father. "What a delight to have her here."
"That's JUST what I was saying," said Grace. "Such an unexpected surprise. She's something of a firebrand, as I'm sure you may have heard. Miya, this is my father, Peter Morgon."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miya—but please, call me Pete."
The princess of Clover Island looked at Badger Pete, and Badger Pete looked at the princess of Clover Island. They held the gaze a long moment, and then Miya spoke:
"How wonderful to meet you finally. I understand that you are to thank for this delightful affair?"
Badger Pete shrugged modestly, a slightly odd smile on his face.
"Well, what father could do any less for a beloved daughter?"
"Indeed," said Miya. "You've certainly spared no expense."
"If you have the means, why not?"
"It appears as if 'having the means' is in no way a problem for you," said Miya.
"Having the means has never been a problem for me," said Pete, smiling. "Ah, I understand that your own father is quite eager to meet me. I must confess, after what my daughter has told me, I find myself rather eager to meet him also."
"I'm sure such a meeting would be very interesting," said Miya. She suddenly realised that Sola had been still and silent since Grace had appeared. "Oh, how rude of me," she said. "This is my brother, Sola."
Pete's eyes went to Sola, and as Miya looked up at her brother she was shocked at the difference in his face; she had never even really seen him angry before, but at this moment the expression of hatred on his normally calm face was almost frightening.
"You," said Sola, his voice deep and hard. "You are the one that enslaved my people."
Badger Pete looked at Sola a long moment, his blue eyes cold, before smiling.
"I've enslaved many a people, lad," he said, his voice low. "You might have to narrow it down a bit for me. What day was this on? A Tuesday?"
Sola took a single step forward, closing the distance between himself and Pete to less than a foot. For the first time Miya noticed just how big Badger Pete was; he could almost stand eye-to-eye with her brother. Grace put a hand on her father's arm, looking up at him with a question in her eyes, but he shook his head just slightly and she lowered her hand again.
"I'd think carefully about what you're doing, lad," said Pete. "I'd think about where I was and who I was with."
Sola looked at Pete a long moment before speaking:
"My people are the Tonfa-Tonfa," he said. "We are kind, and generous, and brave, and strong. I know the name of my great-grandfather, and of his great-grandfather, and of his great-grandfather, and someday so too will my children. But they will not know your name. There will be nobody who remembers the name Peter Morgon, because you do not have a people."
"Well, there'd be a lot here tonight who'd disagree with you on that count," said Pete, with a chuckle.
"You are one man who has bought himself popularity," said Sola. "But when the day of your defeat comes, and that day will come," he growled, the menace and power in Sola's voice making Miya shiver, "there will be not one of these people standing by your side."
Sola stepped back, looked down at Miya, then back up at Pete.
"This is not the day you will be defeated," he said, his voice returning to more like normal, his expression calm once more. "And I may not be the one to defeat you. But you will be defeated. And then you will be forgotten."
Sola held his arm out for Miya.
"Sister?" he said. Miya looked up at him, and then at Badger Pete and Grace. She curtsied perfectly, then took Sola's arm.
"Good evening," she said. "Thank you for putting on such a lovely party. And Grace ... I do hope we meet again."
Badger Pete watched Miya and Sola as they walked away, a thoughtful expression on his face.
*
"How did you ... I can't even ... the look on Grace's face, and, oh my goodness, the way ..." Miya ran out of words and jumped up at her brother, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him before dropping down again. They had managed to avoid further confrontation after leaving Grace and Badger Pete behind, and had made it out of the ballroom and into a quiet corridor.
"You were awesome," she said. Sola shook his head.
"I should not have said anything. But I couldn't keep silent. Not with that man before me. It was all I could do not to attack him then and there, with my bare hands."
"That's how I felt, too," said Miya. Sola smiled.
"I was impressed with you," he said. "I think you may be better than you judge yourself."
"What, in there? No ... no way, I was just ... if I sounded confident or acted
correctly you can thank Mum, she's the one who forced me to study etiquette and proper speaking and all that kind of stuff. But you! I mean, you did so well, SO well."
"I may have looked like I did well but inside I felt like I was dying."
"That's balls for you," said Miya. "I was kind of worried for a bit there, with that maths problem. I didn't think it'd be so difficult."
"Once I realised the trick it was simple."
"What trick?"
"The square root of a number multiplied by itself will always be the original number."
"Huh?"
"If you multiply nine by nine then you get eighty one. The square root of eighty one is nine. So although the question seemed difficult at first, really it was just a simple matter of multiplying eighty one by nine. The entire square root part could be ignored."
"I see," said Miya, who didn't. "I wonder if that guy actually realised it was like a trick question? Or if he was just trying to make it really complicated and just made it a trick by accident."
Sola shrugged.
"Anyway, you were great," Miya said. "Even though it was foolish of me to even play their stupid games."
"I understand why you did."
"Do you? Because I don't, not really. That's part of why I hate these things so much, they just suck you in to their little world, make everything outside of it not matter, trick you into playing their silly games. Anyway, let's not talk about it any more, it's over with now. We can go find Mr Pearson."
"He doesn't attend the parties here?"
"Hah. Not if he can help it. Come on, I know the way. He and Dad get on well, we usually end up hiding in his office."
Miya led Sola through the empty corridors behind the ballroom, up several flights of stairs and past numerous closed doors.
"What are all these rooms?" Sola asked. Miya glanced at the doors.
"Some are offices, some are meeting rooms, but mostly they're bedrooms, or like whole indoor houses in some cases. Like I said, a lot of 'important' people from the Highland come here with their families."
"Ah."
"Here it is." Miya nodded at a door which had 'Bartholomew P. Pearson, Embassy Island Caretaker' written on a little brass plaque beside it. She knocked.
"Yes?" came a voice from inside. "Who is it?"
"Refugees from the social war," said Miya, remembering a favourite phrase of her father's. There was a pause, and then the sound of a chair being pushed back. A few seconds later the door opened, and a bushy-eyebrowed man with white hair and small, square glasses looked out.
"Ah ... Maya? Mina? Miya! Miya, of course," he said, smiling as he recognised her. "Princess Miya Black, I correct myself, of Clover Island. You've grown since I saw you last. And who is this?"
"This is my brother Sola, from Tonfa-Tonfa," said Miya. Mr Pearson held his hand out to Sola, who shook it solemnly.
"A pleasure to meet you," said Sola.
"And a very great pleasure to meet you," Mr Pearson replied, before peering at Miya over his glasses. "Brother?"
"Yes," said Miya. "Brother."
Mr Pearson raised his eyebrows, then shrugged. "Well, it's a brave new world, I suppose. Come in, both of you. May I say, Princess Black, that your dress is rather stunning?"
"You may," said Miya, beaming. "And please, do call me Miya."
"Have a seat. Can I offer you anything? A drink, some food? I keep a small supply here in case of emergencies."
"Such as in the sudden event of a ball?" asked Miya, as she and Sola sat down.
"Heh," said Mr Pearson, as he sat opposite them, on the other side of his desk. It was piled high with papers and letters, both opened and unopened. "Yes, precisely."
"Anyway, I'm fine. Sola?"
Sola shook his head.
"Well, if you should change your minds ..."
"You seem busy as always," said Miya, nodding at the paperwork covering Mr Pearson's desk. He sighed.
"Yes, yes, 'as always', exactly ... it can be a blessing at times, though. Tonight, for example, I made a brief, perfunctory appearance at the ball and then gave the entirely truthful excuse that I was overloaded with work and gracefully slipped away."
"I wish I'd had an excuse," said Miya. Mr Pearson looked at her sympathetically.
"Tough night?"
"You have no idea."
"Unfortunately, I rather think I do. Your family ... well, perhaps better not to talk about it."
"Yes," said Miya, rather curtly. "Um. Can I ask something important?"
"Of course."
"Why is Badger Pete here?"
Mr Pearson's expression hardened.
"Ah," he said. "Him."
"He's a terrible man! He's a pirate! I mean ... a BAD pirate! He's trying to take over the whole Rainbow Archipelago—and his daughter's just as bad. And this is a party for HER? What's going on here?"
"Well, ah, Miya, I ..."
Mr Pearson hesitated, then leaned forward.
"Officially I cannot hold any opinions of any kind. As the caretaker of this island, I am entirely neutral."
"But surely this is an extreme case, the whole archipelago is in danger! Clover Island's in danger!"
Mr Pearson grimaced. "As I said, officially I can hold no opinion."
He held up a finger as Miya opened her mouth to argue, then stood up and walked to the door, locking it. He then went to the window and glanced out before closing the curtains.
"I know how awful this all is," he whispered, returning to his seat. "I know about Pete's ridiculous little crusade and I cannot even express how strongly I oppose it, as any sane man would. His enslavement of the northern islanders alone, well," he looked at Sola. "I'm sorry, my boy."
Sola bowed his head a moment.
"Can't you do anything?" Miya asked.
"I've been doing what I can. I've been able to take in some of the enslaved islanders—unfortunately none from Tonfa-Tonfa I'm afraid, ah, Sola—and I have caused some minor bureaucratic delays, which would be rather complicated to explain—rather ineffectual too, I'm afraid."
"Do you know anything about his plans?" asked Miya.
"Not much, only that he intends to conquer the Rainbow Archipelago."
"But why?"
Mr Pearson looked at Miya a moment, then shook his head and leaned back in his chair, taking his glasses off to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand.
"Good question," he said. "And one with a rather unpleasant answer, I fear."
"What do you mean?"
Mr Pearson rubbed his forehead.
"What is the Highland's official opinion of the Rainbow Archipelago, Princess Black?"
"Officially? They hate us."
"How do you think they'd feel about a proposal from an independent party, perhaps an independent party with an eye towards power, regarding the systematic conquering of every inhabited island within the archipelago?"
Miya narrowed her eyes.
"Are you saying—"
"Let me tell you right now, at this moment, that I have heard nothing, official or otherwise, regarding the Highland's intentions towards the Rainbow Archipelago," said Mr Pearson. "These are simply my thoughts based on years of experience being ground up in the gears of Highland politics and bureaucracy."
"But you think that ... that the Highland is supporting Badger Pete? That they're working together somehow?" Miya thought a moment. "Mr Pearson, the reason we came here ... today we were attacked by a number of ships flying Highland colours."
"To the south? The blockade?"
Miya nodded.
"Grace Morgon's ship was flying Highland colours also," she said.
"It would be, yes."
"So the ships to the south, are they Badger Pete's, or ... or—"
"Officially? That is one of several blockades set up to stop smugglers from entering or leaving the Rainbow Archipelago. Also to protect Embassy Island in the event of attack—although attack from who, I have noticed, is never mentioned."
"So they ARE H
ighland?"
Mr Pearson sighed. "Miya, you are thirteen now?"
"Fourteen."
"My apologies. Fourteen. Goodness, how time flies, I remember when you were born—I digress, apologies. Your father has a small navy, I seem to remember, how many ships?"
"Ten. Brigs and corvettes."
"Good crews?" Mr Pearson asked. "Good captains?"
Miya's expression grew hard and proud.
"The best," she said, firmly.
"I hope so. Do you think it possible to get more help from somewhere, anywhere?"
"That's kind of why I'm out here," said Miya. "I'm searching for someone."
"I hope that you find them."
"You may be able to help me, actually."
"I must warn you that I'm a bureaucrat, I may not be able to offer much in the way of practical assistance," said Mr Pearson, with a small smile.
"My ship was damaged in the attack," said Miya, "the mast and sails mostly, if you could help with repairs—or just supplies, really—I can—"
"Is that all? Of course, of course. Over the last few weeks I've given aid to several ships that have had a run-in with the blockades—none of them even remotely 'smugglers', I might add. I'll rouse some of the carpenters and get them to have a look at your ship. That would be the Black Swan, yes?"
Miya smiled and nodded.
"I imagine they'll be rather pleased to work on such an unusual ship," said Mr Pearson, smiling back at Miya. "Ah, there is one more 'practical' thing I may be able to help you with, just a moment ..."
Mr Pearson went to a chest in the corner of his office and looked through it a few moments before pulling out a large, folded yellow cloth. He unfurled this, revealing it to be a Highland flag.
"A little threadbare, but it'll do in a pinch. If Badger Pete and the Highland are working together, I'd say flying a Highland flag may help you remain inconspicuous."
"Oh, sailing under false colours!" said Miya, taking the flag. "That's SO pirate-y. Thanks Mr Pearson."
"Think nothing of it, Princess Black. It's all anarchy, as the popular saying went in my younger days. Besides which I would hate for anything to happen to these islands. I rather enjoy my life here—well, parts of it. Certainly I have no complaints at all regarding the actual location. Funny, really, considering I was sent here as 'punishment'. In my younger days I was rather like your father, in a sense—perhaps the reason we get along so well now. I'm not sure if there is such thing as a 'renegade bureaucrat', but if there were, I would have been one—spoke up when I should have kept quiet, insisted on doing the 'right' thing, even when it was most definitely not the 'smart' thing. You don't keep a career for long with that kind of attitude, let me tell you. So, they shipped me out here, where I couldn't do any real damage."