Emilie & the Hollow World (9 page)

“Another ship?” Emilie squinted, but the darkness beyond the ship's lights was impenetrable.
No, wait.
There was something out there, more glowing spots of lamplight, marking a large shape riding low on the water, perhaps a couple of hundred yards away. “I see it. Is there light in the water below it, or is that a reflection?”

Kenar said, “No, it's a smaller boat.” A single flicker of light had broken off from the larger shape, and was coming toward them. “They're sending a launch to us.” He started along the deck and Emilie hurried after him.

They met Lord Engal and Oswin above the launch platform. There were several crewmen with rifles scattered around the deck and two wounded men were being helped inside. The silver people had obviously tried to board this side of the ship as well. “Do you know who they were?” Lord Engal asked Kenar.

Kenar shook his head, watching tensely as the
Sovereign
's launch puttered up to the platform. The engine cut and it slowed, and the crewman waiting below tossed a line to the man in the bow.

“What happened, sailor?” Lord Engal called down. “Where did they come from?”

The sailor started up the ladder from the launch platform, saying, “I'm not sure, My Lord. They were in the reeds, waiting for us. Then that larger ship drove them off. It tried to hail us but we couldn't understand them.” He stepped onto the deck and hesitated, suddenly sounding self-conscious. “My Lord, after the attack, I thought it was best to return to the ship. I hope-”

“No, no, Feran, you've done right,” Engal said, moving forward, looking toward the approaching light. “They seem to have helped us by driving off the attack, but we've got to be very careful here. Any advice, Kenar?”

“Don't shine the big lamp on them,” Kenar said immediately. “If the night is their natural time, the light might hurt their eyes. They might think it an attack.”

“Good point.” Engal waved at Oswin, who bolted for the nearest stairwell, heading for the wheelhouse to pass along the order.

They waited, the air thick with tension. Miss Marlende arrived, a little breathless and with blood stains on her sleeves. “Three wounded,” she reported to Lord Engal. “They're all right for the moment, but it would be better if Dr. Barshion could take a look at them. A healing spell to prevent infection might make all the difference.”

“I'll make certain he does,” Lord Engal said, his eyes on the approaching boat.

It was drawing steadily closer and Emilie could make out the shape of it a little better now. A lamp hung on the prow, a few bare inches above the black glassy surface of the water. The boat itself was very broad, made of some kind of light wood, and looked more like a raft with a raised edge. But it moved swiftly and easily for a raft, and the people paddling it so skillfully were balanced on the very edges, one leg in the water.

Closer; and she could tell they weren't human people, either. One of the sailors said, “My Lord, they're the same as the ones who attacked-”

“I know,” Lord Engal said. “Steady.”

The lamps reflected off iridescent skin, which rippled and changed with every movement and shift of the light. “Look, they have fins,” Miss Marlende whispered, sounding fascinated. “I didn't notice that before.” She was right; they had long feathery fins along their arms and legs, with a similar crest on their hairless heads. “Kenar, have you ever seen anything like them before?”

He moved along the rail toward them, keeping his voice low. “I've seen water dwellers that looked something like this, but they can't live in the air for more than a few moments. These seem to be made for both.”

One of the merpeople lifted a hand, and called out in a language Emilie couldn't understand. The voice was light and soft; it was impossible to tell if it was male or female.

Lord Engal lifted his hand in response. Oswin had returned, and he said, “We've got men posted around the ship, to make sure this isn't a diversion.”

Emilie looked around; more crewmen armed with rifles had come out onto the deck. Lord Engal said, “Good. But if anyone fires on this raft without a direct order from me, I'll fling him off this boat. Understood?”

There were muted responses of “Yes, My Lord” from around him.

Dr. Barshion stepped out of the hatchway, moving up beside Lord Engal. “My God,” he said softly. “Do we know what they are?” Lord Engal shook his head.

With expert paddling, the raft came smoothly to a halt a few yards from the
Sovereign
. There were square openings in the bottom of the raft, presumably so the occupants could slip in and out of the water. A boat for people who are as at home in the water as out of it, Emilie thought, fascinated.

“Half in, half out of the water,” Miss Marlende said to herself. She caught Emilie's arm. “You could be right about that abandoned city. If people like this built it - merpeople...”

One of the merpeople waved a hand, speaking again. This close, in the yellow reflected light from the ship's lamps, Emilie was fairly sure it was a woman. Kenar shook his head, tapping his ear to show he didn't understand. He spoke to her in a language that was all breathy growls and clicks; Emilie thought it must be the Cirathi language. But the merpeople didn't appear to understand that, either. Two of them shifted around, taking a box out of a net bag that hung down in the water.

One of the crewmen shifted uneasily, and Lord Engal said, “Steady, men. They seem peaceable and they want to talk, and for all we know they're about to produce a Cirathi phrasebook.”

Emilie still had her reservations about Lord Engal, but she had to admit she thought he was handling this well. She leaned on the railing, finding herself barely five feet away from the merpeople as their boat drifted closer. The one nearest was staring curiously at her, and Emilie stared back. She felt certain this one was female too, just from the shape of the slim body. The hands curled around the light wooden paddle were webbed, and the nails were small and neat, not claws. Emilie distinctly remembered the plant-people from the Sargasso as having claws. The merwoman was wearing silvery bangles around one wrist, and little silver beads were woven into the feathery crest on her head. Emilie realized suddenly that the merwoman, indeed all the merpeople on the boat, were naked except for skimpy wraps of metallic cloth around their waists; she felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She hadn't noticed before because their iridescent skin seemed almost like clothing, or a protective outer covering. They don't have breasts, she thought, still curious despite the awkwardness of looking at naked people. Maybe that means they lay eggs.

The merwoman who seemed to be the leader took something out of the box, something that looked like an elaborately curving shell, the kind that washed up on beaches at Liscae and the other southern ports. She spoke into it, and projected from it, her soft voice said, “Do you understand me?”

It was one more astonishment on top of everything else. Lord Engal moved up beside Kenar, and said, “Yes, we understand you. How can you speak our language? Have you met our people before?”

The merwoman held the shell to her ear, listening to his voice through it.

“The shell is some sort of translation device,” Kenar said softly. “I've heard of such things before, but none that worked this well.”

Keeping his voice low, Dr. Barshion said, “Yes, it must be a spell. A complicated one.”

The merwoman tapped the shell. “This device translates. I am Yesa, I speak for the Queen of the Sealands.” She looked from Kenar to Lord Engal. “You are not hurt?”

Lord Engal replied carefully, “We have three men wounded, but other than that, we're quite well, thanks to your intervention. Can you tell us why we were attacked?” Emilie thought he had picked a delicate way to ask that question.

“They were the Darkward Nomads,” Yesa said. “They attack all shipping in these seas.”

The Darkward Nomads. Emilie remembered Darkward was the Hollow World term for the direction to the west, where the Dark Wanderer came from, so it wasn't quite as intimidating a name as it seemed at first. But still...

Miss Marlende looked at Kenar for information, and he shook his head slightly to show he had never heard the name before. Then Yesa asked, “You are perhaps looking for missing people?”

“Yes, yes, we are!” Miss Marlende called out, then whispered, “Sorry, spoke out of turn,” to Lord Engal.

“Quite all right, but try to contain yourself,” he said to her. He turned back to the merpeople and said to Yesa, “You have news of them, of people like us?”

“Yes. We have heard of them. You will follow us, speak to our Queen?”

Lord Engal exchanged a guarded look with Kenar, and said, “Yes, but can't you tell us what happened to them? Where they are, if they're well?”

“I don't know if they are well.” Yesa hesitated, lifting her elegant webbed hands in a helpless gesture. Emilie got the sudden sense that Yesa didn't know much at all, that she was possibly as nervous about this encounter as they were. If I were her, I'd be nervous too, she thought, sent out in a little boat, to talk to people in a strange big noisy ship, and without the information to answer their questions. Yesa said, “My Queen wants to speak of all this with you herself. If you follow us to our city, all will be explained.”

Lord Engal looked at Kenar and Oswin, turning to glance at Dr. Barshion, “Gentlemen, I don't think we have a choice.”

The
Sovereign
, moving at its slowest speed, followed Yesa's boat through the darkness. Emilie watched from the bow with Kenar and Miss Marlende as the boat led them through the island channels. As the
Sovereign
's spotlight swept back and forth, they began to catch glimpses of white stone structures on the islands or near them, lapped by the waves from their passage. It was hard to tell in the dark, but they all seemed ruined, or empty, with stones tumbling down or lightless windows.

“The Sealands, she called it,” Miss Marlende said thoughtfully. “If their civilization once spread through this entire area, all the way to that ruined city we passed, they must have been very powerful.”

“They might still be.” Kenar was pacing the deck behind them. He had been restless and uneasy for the past hour, and Emilie wasn't certain it was due to the slow pace of the ship. “I'm wondering how they knew we were out here, in time to intervene during the attack.”

Miss Marlende rested her elbows on the railing. “Sentries, perhaps. Hidden on one of these islands. They might have some form of distance communication, like a telegraph.”

“Or they might have magic.” Kenar didn't sound pleased at the prospect. “That could put us at a great disadvantage, if they carried off our people against their will.”

It wasn't an encouraging thought, that the merpeople might be leading them into a trap. Emilie squinted to see the little boat. The larger craft it had come from was just ahead, the spotlight catching occasional glimpses of it. It was big, flat, and barge-like, easily the size of the
Lathi
. But instead of sails it had rows of oars, moving smoothly and steadily against the low sides.

Emilie thought Yesa had been telling the truth. But then maybe the person who sent Yesa didn't tell her it was a trap. Or maybe Emilie was no good at reading the expression and intent of people who weren't human.

She didn't seem to have any trouble reading Kenar's expressions and understanding his intent. But the Cirathi weren't merpeople; from what Emilie could tell, there weren't many differences between Kenar and a human, besides his appearance. Meeting him had been more like meeting someone from a strange distant country than from another species. It was probably why the crew of the
Lathi
had gotten on so well with Dr. Marlende's crew. And as explorers and traders, they had more in common with Menaens than not. Just be careful, she reminded herself. She didn't like judging other people, having had more than her fill of being judged herself. But she didn't want herself or any of the others to be hurt or killed.

“We've got Dr. Barshion,” Miss Marlende was saying. “He does seem to be quite a decent sorcerer, even if he's not as expert with aetheric engines as he thought.”

“Has there been any progress?” Emilie asked her. “Did you look at the figures Abendle wanted you to see?”

“Yes, and Abendle's right; the problem isn't in the way the motile is calibrated.” Miss Marlende didn't quite sound defeated, but she didn't sound enthused by their prospects, either. “It should be working. I suggested they try to dismantle the aether navigator and make certain there's nothing wrong with it. If one of the rings had been jostled during our descent, that might cause the engine instability.”

“The navigator?” Emilie had thought it was working fine, from what she had seen in the wheelhouse. “The one we were using to follow the aether traces?”

“No, that's the standard ship's navigator, used for surface vessels. The motile has a separate aether navigator built inside it, which allows it to stay within the boundaries of the aether currents.”

“Oh, I see.” Emilie wasn't sure she did see, but at least now Dr. Barshion and Abendle would know what was specifically wrong with the motile.

They traveled for the rest of the night, and finally reached their destination as the eclipse ended, the wall of light moving slowly across the islands and the sea. As it advanced, it revealed the city spread out before them.

It was made of white stone and stretched for miles. Bridges and open air plazas and pillared walkways marched across the low-lying islands, to towers and large buildings with pitched roofs standing in the broad channels between. For such a vast city, the buildings weren't very tall, not even the towers standing more than a few stories above the water. But then, they're resting on the bottom, so they're taller than they look, Emilie thought, fascinated. Borrowing Miss Marlende's spyglass, she could see people out on the walkways, the sun glinting off their iridescent skin, casting back rippling reflections of blue and green. They wore jewelry of silver chains and pieces of polished shell, and very few clothes, mostly just kilts or drapes around their waists. It still wasn't as disturbing as it should be. Perhaps because it was natural for them, and they were all doing it. As she watched, she saw a merperson leading a merchild down a set of steps into the water, vanishing under the surface. Another walked up the steps, shaking his head to get the water out of his feathery head fins. There were more merpeople on the islands to either side of the channel, some in boats and some in the water, fishing in the reeds with nets and small spears. They stopped to stare at the
Sovereign
and the
Lathi
, pointing at them, clearly amazed by the two ships' appearance.

“They've never seen anything like this vessel before,” Kenar said under his breath. “It doesn't mean they haven't seen the airship.”

“I'm hoping they have seen it,” Miss Marlende murmured, her eyes on the city ahead.

Yesa's boat was leading them into a harbor of sorts at the edge of the city, where the channel broadened into a large lagoon. A long building with two stories of pillared galleries stood at its edge, with piers stretching out across the water. The piers stood only inches above the surface, so they were constantly awash, which didn't seem to bother the merpeople at all. Dozens of boats were tied up along them, of all sizes. Their large escort ship broke away to head toward the other end of the harbor, where several larger barges of a similar design were anchored, some bigger than the
Lathi
and even the
Sovereign
. From what Miss Marlende and Kenar had said, one of them should be more than large enough to carry the airship. But it's not here, Emilie thought, studying the further docks. At least not where we can see it.

The
Sovereign
slowed to a crawl, then dropped anchor near the end of one of the piers. Yesa's small boat came around to speak to them again, and Emilie followed Miss Marlende and Kenar back to the port side.

Lord Engal, Captain Belden, and Oswin were already waiting there. The boat drew up next to the
Sovereign
's launch platform, and Yesa took out her talking shell to say, “You will come in your small boat and speak to our Queen now?”

Everyone looked at Lord Engal. He let out his breath, and said, “Give us a moment to ready ourselves, please.”

Yesa nodded and lowered the shell. The other merpeople were taking the chance to get a better look at the
Sovereign
and her crew in the daylight, pointing and talking among themselves.

They moved back from the railing. Lord Engal scratched his chin and said thoughtfully, “We'll have to go. It would be the height of rudeness to ask her to come out here to speak to us.”

Captain Belden said, “You shouldn't go, My Lord.”

“I'll go,” Kenar said. “I've met with stranger people than this, believe it or not.”

“And I,” Miss Marlende added. “Kenar and I have the most at stake, after all. We should take the risk. If there is any.”

With some asperity, Captain Belden said, “I appreciate your confidence, Miss Marlende, but all we know about these people is that they might have made off with an airship and kidnapped a number of people, and then lied about it. If you-”

“That's enough,” Lord Engal said. He told Belden, “Of course I'm going, it's a foreign monarch, I can't risk insulting her. If Menea develops any sort of trade and diplomatic relations with this world, we'll have to deal with these people as they're the closest to the aetheric current outlets and they clearly claim this territory. I'm not going down in history as the man who started off on the wrong foot.”

Captain Belden pressed his lips together, clearly unhappy. “I'm not keen on going down in history as the man who stood by while Lord Engal was killed, My Lord.”

“Well, that's just a chance you'll have to take.” Lord Engal added, “I'll take Kenar with me, and Oswin, and two sailors. Sidearms, but no rifles. If we don't reappear or send a message within…” He checked his pocket watch. “Two hours, leave the harbor, and do what is necessary to get the ship back to the surface world.”

“The Queen sent a woman as her emissary,” Miss Marlende said pointedly. “It would only be sensible to send a woman to speak with her-”

Lord Engal cut her off. “Sensible, but not absolutely necessary, and I'm not risking anyone else on a whim.” He stepped to the railing and told Yesa, “We'll be ready to leave in a moment.”

Yesa waved an acknowledgment, and signaled her boat to withdraw, taking it toward the nearest dock to speak to some merpeople waiting there. Oswin called for sailors to lower the launch, and everyone scrambled to get ready. Emilie stood aside with Miss Marlende, who fumed silently, her jaw set. Emilie sympathized. There hadn't been a hope in hell of getting herself included in the party, but she had thought Miss Marlende would surely have a chance to go. She said, “At least he didn't say it was because you were a woman.”

Miss Marlende folded her arms and muttered something grim about stiff-necked blowhards.

But when the launch was lowered into the water, and the landing party started to climb aboard, Yesa's boat returned to hail them again. Using the shell, she said, “I apologize, I should have told you, our Queen will wish to meet your female leaders, also. This is our custom.”

Lord Engal, one foot in the launch, stopped and said, “Oh, is it?” He was clearly scrambling for a polite way to decline. “Ah, our custom is not quite so-”

Yesa pointed up at Miss Marlende and Emilie, standing at the rail. “Perhaps they would accompany you?”

Miss Marlende said immediately, “I would be happy to go, but Emilie is rather young-”

Lord Engal stared up at them, disconcerted. “Miss Marlende, yes, I suppose, but I don't think the girl can possibly want-”

Emilie bit her lip, trying to control herself. Jumping up and down like a little girl and begging
Please! I want to see the
Queen
of the merpeople too!
was hardly likely to engender confidence. She knew it could be dangerous, that they had been attacked once already, that human people could be violent for no sensible reason at all and there was nothing to say that these merpeople weren't the same. But that didn't matter. She said, a little too loudly, “I'll go. I don't mind. I mean, I'd love to.”

Miss Marlende frowned at her. She had one hand on the ladder, clearly torn between establishing herself in the launch before anybody raised more objections and a need to dissuade Emilie. Keeping her voice low, she said, “Emilie, I don't think it's wise. It is a risk; after the past few days you have to realize how big a risk it might be.”

From the platform, Lord Engal said, “Yes, I'd better ask Mrs. Verian to accompany you instead.” He waved to one of the sailors up on deck. “Send someone to find her.”

Seeing her chance slip away, Emilie hastily whispered to Miss Marlende, “It's pretty risky to be on this ship at all, with a sorcerer who can't make his aetheric engine work. We might have to live here.”

“Emilie!” Miss Marlende glanced around to make certain no one had heard. “I thought the crew was gloomy, but you're the biggest pessimist on this ship.”

Emilie didn't think it was pessimism, just the result of having her expectations continually stamped on while growing up. She said, “Are you really going to let him ask Mrs. Verian to go? She won't want to at all, and Mr. Verian won't want her to go either, but they'll think they don't have any choice, since they work for Lord Engal. I've got a choice, I'm a volunteer.”

From Miss Marlende's expression, the point about Mrs. Verian must have hit home. She said, reluctantly, “You're right. If we drag the poor woman along against her will... But if… when we get back home, don't let any word of this get back to your uncle. I don't want him trying to have me taken in charge, or dragged into court for God knows what.”

Just in time, Emilie reminded herself not to jump up and down. “Thank you,” she breathed.

Miss Marlende called to Lord Engal, “It's not necessary to send for Mrs. Verian. Emilie can accompany us.” She started down the ladder, Emilie right behind her.

Lord Engal frowned at Emilie, but he glanced at Yesa, still waiting in her boat well within earshot, her translator shell held up to listen. He appeared to swallow a more forceful objection and only asked Miss Marlende, “Is this wise?”

“I think so,” Miss Marlende said. Kenar gave her a hand to steady her as she stepped into the launch. “If it's safe enough for you, it's safe enough for her.”

“I hope you're right,” Lord Engal said, and helped Emilie into the boat himself.

The sailors cast off from the platform, and started the launch's small engine. Yesa waved for them to follow, her boat leading them between the piers toward the big open structure fronting the harbor. Merpeople in other boats and working along the piers stopped to stare at them; Emilie resisted the urge to wave, feeling it might not be entirely appropriate. Miss Marlende, leaning out to look down over the side, tapped her arm. Emilie looked too, and saw slender iridescent shapes flickering in the water below them: merpeople swimming along the harbor's shallow sandy floor.

The big structure was made of white stone, and stood three tall stories above the harbor. Broad pillared galleries along the front were open to the sea breezes. It looked like part of the second level might be a market, where goods were piled up for sale. From the clay jars and bundles stacked in the lower level, it could be for storing or selling cargos. Emilie noticed the place didn't smell like a harbor; it smelled fresh and clean, with no stench of dead fish or tar. They live in the water at least some of the time, so they have a much bigger stake in keeping it clean, she thought.

Yesa was leading them toward a tall archway where a water channel cut through the lower floor of the building. Her boat turned down the channel, passing inside.

At the tiller, Oswin asked Lord Engal, “My Lord, do we follow?”

Lord Engal didn't hesitate. “Go on.”

Kenar said, low-voiced, “It would have been better if they met with us on the docks. But I can see why they want a demonstration of trust.”

“On our part and theirs,” Miss Marlende said.

The launch turned down the channel, passing under the arch and between the high stone walls, the putter of its motor suddenly much louder. The walls were carved with tall figures of merpeople, fighting with some large tentacled creature. Very large, perhaps big enough to wrap around the
Sovereign
and pull it under. Emilie leaned forward to ask Kenar: “Is that like the creature that Dr. Marlende fought off?”

He turned his head to tell her. “Very similar, but it seemed much bigger at the time.”

Emilie sat back, impressed.

They passed out from under the archway into the open again, the channel leading through a plaza surrounded by towers with balconies. A bridge arched above them, and they passed pillars with water pouring down the sides. Looking up at the bridge, Emilie caught sight of startled iridescent faces looking down at them.

Then they were moving into another building, small but with a vaulted ceiling and an elaborate waterfall grotto to one side. Merpeople were gathered waiting, but they wore more jewelry than the people working in the harbor, polished shells and more silver chains woven through their head fins, and drapes of metallic fabric that caught the light in different colors. There was a short dock extending into the channel and Yesa was guiding her boat toward it.

“I think we're in a palace,” Miss Marlende muttered to Emilie. “It certainly looks like the right spot to meet with a Queen.”

The launch bumped the dock and Yesa's crew moved hurriedly to help the sailors tie it up. Stepping out of the launch down onto a stone surface level with the water was awkward for Emilie, mostly because she had shorter legs than the others. She found herself having to cling to Kenar's arm to manage it without falling. Miss Marlende and Lord Engal were more graceful.

“This way, please,” Yesa said through the shell, leading them toward the grotto. Emilie walked beside Kenar, following Lord Engal and Miss Marlende, with Oswin and the two sailors bringing up the rear. The merpeople were all staring, murmuring to each other, and Emilie felt her face heat. The startled stares from the harbor people and those on the bridge hadn't bothered her; the curiosity had been mutual. But at close range, it was harder to ignore.

As they got closer to the grotto, Emilie saw the rocks had been shaped by the water into formations like giant swaths of lace. The floor they were walking across was set with medallions that looked like mother-of-pearl. At the foot of the grotto, a woman was sitting in a carved stone chair, the water lapping at her feet. She wore a headdress of polished shell and pearl, more pearls draping her body, wound around a dark blue stole shot with metallic streaks.

The Queen, Emilie thought, her heart pumping. It was hard to tell how old she was; unlike Yesa, there was a faint darkening of the smooth skin at the corners of her eyes and mouth. Other merpeople, men and women, sat in the water at her feet or stood behind her.

Yesa said, “This is my lady, Queen Tath-Alare.” She bowed her head.

One of the Queen's attendants lifted another translation shell, holding it up for the Queen. She said, “You are from the upper world.” Her voice was deeper than Yesa's, but still soft.

Lord Engal gave her a formal half-bow. “Yes, Your Majesty. All but our friend Kenar, who is of the Cirathi, and has graciously agreed to guide us through your waters.”