Miya Black, Pirate Princess I: Adventure Dawns (11 page)

"I know, like when ... wait a minute. Wait a minute. Wait just one tiny little minute here, Sola, that's it! That is IT! Oh my goodness, of course!" Miya paced around the room, chin in hand, nearly vibrating with excited energy. "We've all been saying 'there's no one to help us', thinking we're all alone, but we've got THEM! The two greatest pirates in the whole world! They'd wipe the floor with Badger Pete without even thinking, without even trying, he'd be nothing to them. Even just one of them would be enough, I bet. Oh my goodness, this is great!"

Sola watched Miya dance around the room for a few seconds.

"I don't quite understand," he said. Miya danced over to him and grabbed his hands, pulled him from the chair (with surprising ease, given the difference in size between the two) and then around the room, forcing an embarrassed jig out of him.

"You have just given me the greatest idea anyone on Clover Island ever had," she said, releasing him and grabbing a chair to stop herself. "We'll find my grandparents—Dad's parents. We'll track them down, it can't be too difficult, they're legends after all, and tell them what's happening here. Then we come back with them and deal to Badger Pete, rescue your people, fix EVERYTHING."

"Are you sure?" asked Sola.

"Look at my face, Sola. Do I look the slightest bit unsure?"

"No," Sola admitted.

"This'll be great, I'll get to meet my grandparents! And then once they see how great Clover Island is, how good Dad's done, they'll probably want to live here! And we'll be a big family, all together! And then we'll go and help rebuild your village, and you can live there or here or like travel between both places, and maybe I can go stay with you and your family sometime, and you can bring all your like cousins and aunts and uncles and just everyone back here to have a big party, oh, it'll be great. And it's so simple! You couldn't get a simpler plan!"

Sola thought for a long moment, then nodded, once.

"Okay," he said.

"Okay?" said Miya, who had been muttering to herself about planning a big beach barbeque and how many pigs they'd need.

"Okay, I agree," said Sola. "It's a plan."

"A GREAT plan."

"For now, any plan is good. However, I have some questions."

"Go ahead and ask. My plan is flawless."

"First. Are they still alive?"

"Of course they are. Next!"

"How do you know?" asked Sola. Miya sighed.

"They're LEGENDS. If they had died, there'd be a big legend ABOUT them dying. Since there isn't, they must still be alive. QED."

"QED?"

"Quite Easily Done. Next!"

Sola thought for a moment. "That does have some logic to it. Second. Many of their actions in these stories show a dubious moral fibre."

"What does that mean?"

"They did what they liked and had little or no regard for the consequences of their actions."

"Maybe that's exactly what we need right now! Everyone's all busy thinking and talking and humming and hawing and arguing and worrying and every day people are losing their homes! Being split up from their families! Being walked all over by that monster Badger Pete! Maybe what we need is people who'll do what needs to be done, consequences be damned!"

"Perhaps."

"So you agree?"

"I agree that something needs to be done, and quickly. Third. You have no idea where your grandparents are."

"I admit that is kind of a problem. Well ... we know they're not anywhere around here. We'd have heard about them if they were. But I'm sure Dad must have had some contact with them, he MUST have."

"Fourth," said Sola. "Our father ran away from them. I imagine that he had a good reason."

"He was like fourteen, you don't need good reasons to do stuff when you're fourteen," said Miya, with nary a trace of self-consciousness. "Also, just going back to 'third' for a moment, even being in just like the general area of legendary pirates like my grandparents is going to turn up HEAPS of clues about where they are. That's just common sense. Legendary pirates leave legendary trails."

"But you do not know, even generally, where they might be," said Sola.

"That's true, but I bet Dad does. And once he hears this idea, he'll be sailing out to find them as fast as he can. Trust me."

Miya sat on the deck of her ship, knees tucked into her chest, her chin resting between them. She was staring into the water, watching as the dark waves warped and twisted the light of the moon. After several minutes of this Miya took a slightly shuddery breath, then she sighed, long and deep and heartfelt.

Things had not gone quite as well as she had hoped. In fact, she could safely say that it had been one of the worst days she'd ever had. It had all started off so great, too, what with figuring out Pete's plans and having her great idea with Sola, where did it all go wrong?

Well, Miya thought, to begin with, telling Dad about the plan could definitely have gone better.

*

"Dad! Dad. I had an amazing idea—"

"Can it wait, Miya? I'm about to meet with the other captains," said Tomas, hurriedly pulling a tight black boot onto his foot.

"Oh, can I come?" Miya asked automatically, then shook her head. "No, wait, I have an idea, your parents!"

"What?"

"Your parents, my grandparents, they're legendary pirates! If we could find them and tell them about Badger Pete I'm sure they'd come and help us defeat him—"

"Miya, I don't have time for this."

"But don't you see? It's perfect! We've been saying all the way through 'if only someone could help us', well they're the someone! Someones, even! And I know you must have some idea where they are, right? Right?"

"Miya, my darling, I'm sorry. I don't know where you got this idea but it ... you have to understand, my parents ... their way of doing things, the way they ... we just have to find ways to solve our problems ourselves. Do you understand?"

"No. Aren't you going to go fight Badger Pete? Isn't that what this meeting is about?"

"Miya—"

"So how's it different? Grandma and Grandad were great pirates, legends! They'd wipe their noses with an upstart like Badger Pete, I know they would. And, plus, it's like that saying, 'fight fire with fire', right? Set a pirate to catch a pirate, let monkeys fight monkeys, the left sock will overcome the right—"

"What are you talking about?"

"Badger Pete's a pirate! A bad pirate! I don't mean bad like he's not good at pirating because obviously he's doing pretty well, but bad like ... wrong! Right?"

"My darling, I don't know what to say to you. I don't know where my parents are or even if they're still alive. We parted on bad terms and I haven't seen them for many, many years. They're not a part of my life here with you and your mother, and sadly they never will be. It's a choice they made a long time ago. So please, Miya, my darling, my Coconut, just forget about them. Leave them in the storybooks. That's where they belong."

Tomas tightened his sword belt around his waist, and put his favourite tricorn hat on his head.

"Now I really have to go. I'll talk to you later."

"Huh."

"I love you, my darling Miya."

"Huh."

Tomas looked at his daughter, indecision in his eyes, then he turned and left her alone.

*

"He didn't understand," Miya muttered to herself. "Why couldn't I make him understand?"

She was lying down now, on her stomach, on the stern deck of her ship. She idly flicked a stone into the water, making a little cannon noise as she did so.

"Pow. Take that, Badger Pete. Oh, whoops? Did I just sink your flagship? With you on board? Captain going down with his ship? How
noble
. Well, that's that problem solved, thanks once again to Miya Black, pirate."

Miya laid her head down, feeling the wooden deck beneath her cheek, the coolness soothing.

"Miya Black, pirate," she repeated. "Pirate," she said again, louder this time, pushing herself up from the deck. "Pirate! PIRATE! PIRATE PIRATE PIRATE!"

Miya stood as she yelled, fists clenched at her sides, screaming her frustration at the night ocean. She glared at the water, then turned her back on it.

"I AM a pirate," she muttered. "And everyone would know that, if I had half a chance to show what I can do."

In an instant she had her sword out, pointed at an imaginary Badger Pete.

"Oops," she said, as her sword flashed in the moonlight. "Was that your belt-buckle? Just a little too quick for you, am I? How's your grip, Badger Pete?"

Miya's sword flashed again, then again, quicker and quicker as she advanced on her enemy.

"There goes your cutlass. There goes your dagger. There goes your shirt, you really should sew your buttons on better."

Miya stood over the downed Badger Pete, her sword pointed at his heart.

"Yield," she said. "Or you'll taste the steel of my sword. Of my father's sword," she corrected herself. "The sword of a pirate king."

Miya held the position a moment, then laughed a little and sheathed her weapon.

"Whatever," she said, flopping back onto the hard wood of the deck. She flicked another pebble into the water.

"
Why
don't they understand?" she muttered, idly looking for another pebble. "And where did all these pebbles come from?"

Miya rolled over to see if there were any pebbles to her left. As she rolled she heard the crinkle of paper from her shirt pocket, which brought a sudden heavy feeling of guilt to her chest. I shouldn't have opened Dad's old chest, she thought, as she pulled out the letter to read once more. His private, personal stuff, I'd kill him if he looked at anything in my room. Even though I found this ...

*

Miya didn't go into the attic much, it was filled with dust and cobwebs and spiders—not that she was scared of spiders, she just preferred to be where they weren't. It was also where her parents kept their old stuff, and she knew how guarded they both were about their pasts. Even being up here felt wrong, like being an uninvited guest. Miya had been taught about 'respect for the past' from a very young age, not least from the stories her father had read to her and the history lessons her mother had taught. Clover Island was, in part, a place for second chances. A lot of people came to the island with pasts they'd rather forget. Part of what Tomas and Lily had instilled within Miya was the belief that you should not delve too deeply into someone's past—not without invitation.

But, Miya reasoned, this is important. Dad doesn't understand but that's because he's busy, he's got other things to do, responsibilities. He's worried, like we all are—that's why he couldn't listen to me properly. And I know he must have something that can lead to his parents up here, he's probably just forgotten about it, or he's too busy to think about that kind of stuff, or he doesn't want to tell me for some reason. He thinks I'm still too young, probably, he's always too protective of me. Also, maybe he just doesn't have the time to go scrounging around in a dusty old attic. So, I'll find it for him and save him the time and bother, and prove I'm old enough to do things for myself—and I'm sure once I get the time to explain things to him properly he'll thank me for it, and then we can go find my grandparents together.

Miya knew exactly where to start looking—her father's old sea-chest, a big heavy thing in the back corner of the attic, made of weathered but tough old wood, black with age (and ash; at some point in its life the chest had survived a rather serious fire). It was surrounded by crates and smaller chests, and Miya had to spend some time shifting things out of the way just to get to it—she'd wrapped a bandanna around her mouth and nose before coming up here so the dust didn't bother her too much, although it did get into her eyes a little.

After clearing enough stuff out of the way, Miya knelt in front of the chest and opened it, or tried to at least—upon attempting to raise the lid she found that it was locked. This may have discouraged some people, but to Miya it was just another challenge to be overcome. Locked treasure chests were a normal part of pirate life, to be prepared for and dealt with appropriately. Miya's father had told her that so-called 'skeleton keys', said to be capable of opening any lock, weren't to be relied on. Rather, a good set of lockpicks was what you needed. On her eighth birthday, in private, Tomas had given Miya her own set; half a dozen small, strong steel tools in a roll of leather. (As well as the lockpicks and lessons on how to use them, he'd also given her a series of serious lectures about only using them in an emergency or when you knew—KNEW—that the person who owned the lock you were picking wouldn't mind you messing around with it. Miya hadn't enjoyed that part of the gift so much, but it had penetrated her thick skull eventually. That was part of the reason she felt so guilty.) Miya had practiced with her lockpicks for a little less than a year, until she could open most locks in a matter of minutes without any difficulty at all, after which, having mastered the skill to her own satisfaction, she'd lost interest. This was to her mother's great relief; she'd grown more than a little tired of all the doors in the house mysteriously locking and unlocking themselves.

Miya knelt in front of the chest for a few minutes, running a hand over the dusty surface, chewing on her lip. Eventually, her expression hardened and she nodded, taking out the little leather roll and getting to work without further hesitation. The lock wasn't a complicated one, but it was old and clogged with dust—Miya had to spend several minutes just cleaning it out before she could even get started. After that, however, it was just a matter of time before she heard a tiny, intensely satisfying 'click' and felt the lock give beneath her hands. She put her lockpicks away, feeling a twinge of guilt at using the skills her father had so proudly taught her against him—but is it really against him? Considering I'm doing this for his benefit, I shouldn't feel guilty at all, thought Miya. That didn't really make the guilty feeling go away, but it helped her ignore it as she pushed the heavy lid up and looked inside her father's chest.