Emilie & the Hollow World Page 12

  “I don't know,” Yesa said. It was hard to tell through the translation, but she sounded a little troubled. “It is one of the frightening things about them, that we don't know why they do such things.”

  Miss Marlende was frowning in thought. “Have you ever known anyone who was kidnapped - stolen - by them? Or seen a farm or a fishing area that was raided?”

  “I've seen places that were raided, within the past season. It has been getting worse. I don't know anyone who was stolen…” Yesa made a little throwing away gesture, which Emilie thought might be something to avert bad luck, like knocking on wood. “But I have seen the empty settlements in the darkward shallows and the archipelago.” She looked at Miss Marlende, her delicate brows arched. “Did you doubt that the stories about the nomads were true?”

  “I'm sorry, but yes,” Miss Marlende admitted. “We're strangers here, and we know nothing about this situation.”

  “I understand. I will say: I do not like this plan of going to fight the nomads.” Yesa turned back, heading out of the bright sunlight into the shaded gallery behind them. “I will take you back through this part of the palace.”

  They passed inside, into a wide passage, and Emilie blinked, temporarily blinded by the transition from sunlight to interior shadow. Yesa turned left abruptly, through a small grotto room with an elaborate stone waterfall, surrounded by deep-blue flowering plants. Emilie stopped, waiting for her eyes to adjust, wanting a better look at it.

  Miss Marlende and Yesa passed into the next room. Suddenly Miss Marlende shouted a warning. Startled, Emilie stared. There were three men in the next room, human men, two Northern Menaen and one Southern. For an instant she tried to recognize them as crew members from the Sovereign. Then she saw the blue uniforms, that these men were rougher, unshaven. Like the men who had attacked the Sovereign when it was docked at Meneport. Lord Ivers' men. Emilie moved forward, her first impulse to help Miss Marlende. But one of the men grabbed Miss Marlende's arm and yanked her out of sight, and the other two started forward. Get help, Emilie thought wildly, and whirled around and bolted.

  Right into the two men coming out of the passage behind her. She bounced off one's chest and he grabbed her arms. Emilie struggled furiously, kicked him, bit at his hands, but the other one forced a sack over her head. Then the first one flipped her upside down, trapping her arms in the sack and making her head swim.

  Distantly, muffled by the heavy coarse material, she heard Yesa say, “I don't like the plan. But I have no choice but to participate.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Trapped in the sack, Emilie fought in a panic, struggling furiously, until her lungs ached from lack of air. She sagged limply and tried to breathe through the rough material.

  “She's out,” one of them said, his voice muffled by the blood pounding in her ears, and the other grunted an acknowledgment.

  They thought she had fainted. That...isn't a bad idea, Emilie thought. She would rather like to faint and not experience this, but as a long term solution it was impractical at best. Solution, think of a solution. They hadn't strangled her or drowned her immediately, and they seemed to be taking her somewhere in a very purposeful way. She could try to question them about where they were going, or keep pretending to be unconscious. The pretend-unconsciousness seemed to offer the best chance of escape; if they put her down to rest, she might be able to wriggle away before they noticed. She admitted that that was probably not likely, but at least it gave her something to think about besides being strangled or drowned or shot.

  They carried Emilie for some distance, hauling her like a sack of potatoes. She concentrated on breathing and trying to listen for any indication of where they were going. She heard water lapping and the occasional distant voices of merpeople. Sometimes the men spoke to each other: gruff instructions to turn right or left or go that way; it didn't tell her anything except that there were at least two of them. And she couldn't hear any hint that Miss Marlende was anywhere nearby. Though I bet they meant to capture her all along, Emilie realized suddenly. That's why Yesa came back and asked for us to come with the others to speak to the Queen. Someone had perhaps passed along a description of Miss Marlende, but what was obvious to another Menaen wasn't obvious to Yesa, and she had asked for both of them as the only two women in view.

  Sometimes they walked outside and sometimes through buildings; she could tell by the light working its way through the sackcloth and the feel of the sun on her legs. It seemed to take a long time, but the sack was hot and her arms ached from where the men had grabbed her, and she suspected discomfort was making the trip seem much longer.

  Finally they went into a cool shadow that meant they were inside a building, and started to go upstairs, up a lot of stairs. Emilie tensed, her heart pounding again, knowing they must be nearly at their destination. Whatever that was. Maybe she would find herself facing Lord Ivers himself. An evil nobleman, she thought. It was just like something out of one of her favorite adventure novels. Only very real, very uncomfortable, and very frightening.

  The men reached a landing and started down a corridor. Ahead she heard keys rattle and what sounded like a heavy metal door creak open. There was some shuffling around, a gruff voice said, “Don't move, or I'll blow your head off.”

  Emilie caught her breath, wondering if he was talking to her. Then she was dumped on a cool stone floor. She lay like an unstrung puppet, keeping her breathing even, listening to footsteps walk away, and the metal door shutting. They hadn't deposited a second person, so Miss Marlende wasn't with her. She waited a moment, and then was glad she had; there was something else alive in the room. She could hear breathing, a scrape against the floor as something moved.

  “You can get up now, I know you're awake. Though don't misunderstand me; it's very convincing.”

  The voice had a thick accent Emilie thought she recognized. She dragged the sack off her head, taking a deep breath of the cool damp air. She was in a small bare stone room, light coming in from a little round window high in the wall. The only furnishing was a couple of wooden buckets, and a blanket. The door was made out of silver metal, showing streaks of rust in the damp. She sat up, twisting around to stare at the other person.

  He - she - sat back in the corner, watching Emilie with a quizzical smile. It was a Cirathi.

  Her face was fuller than Kenar's, though it was coated with the same tiny black scales instead of soft skin. Her dark eyes were wide-set under brows of feathery fur, her lips full. Her dark hair was braided with strings of beads, hanging down over the folds of reptilian skin at the back of her neck. She wore dark leather trousers tucked into low boots, armbands and bracelets and rings of gold metal, and a stretchy blue camisole that made it easy to see she was female. Emilie didn't know whether to be shocked or admiring; on her the skimpy clothing was somehow more obvious than on the merpeople, maybe because the Cirathi seemed so much closer to human. “Who are you?” Emilie demanded.

  She smiled. “I asked you first.”

  “You did not,” Emilie pointed out. “But I think I know who you are. Are you from the ship Lathi?”

  “Yes.” She cocked her head, still smiling, but with a trace of skepticism. “But you would know that.”

  “If I was one of Lord Ivers' crew?” Emilie saw the difficulty: the woman thought she was a spy. “But does Lord Ivers know Kenar, and how he and Jerom went into the aether-current to bring help for Dr. Marlende's airship?” Of course, if the Cirathi woman was a spy, Emilie was giving the game away, but she thought that was so unlikely as to be worth the risk.

  The woman eyed her sharply, all the teasing forgotten. “You know of Kenar?”

  “Yes. Do you know Rani? She's his...friend.” Emilie wasn't quite sure what to call their relationship and didn't want to make a hideous social gaffe.

  “I am Rani.” She sat bolt upright, new delighted energy in her face, her voice. “Kenar brought you here? He's alive?”

  “Yes, he is! He's here in the city, with Lord Engal, wh
o brought us here in his ship, with Miss Marlende, Dr. Marlende's daughter. But then they caught us - Lord Ivers' men, Miss Marlende and I - so I don't know if the others are still free or not.” It sounded very confusing put that way, but the Cirathi woman seemed to be following it. “I'm Emilie.”

  “I am very happy to see you, Emilie.” Rani pushed to her feet, reaching to give Emilie a hand. Emilie took it, finding the blunt claws and the calloused palm of Rani's hand a strange contrast with the softness of the fur on her knuckles. Rani pulled Emilie to her feet, so energetically that Emilie bounced. “I haven't been able to reach that window by myself, but if you stand on my shoulders I think you might.”

  “Yes, I think so,” Emilie said, and sat down to quickly take off her boots and stockings. Facing the wall with the window, Rani crouched down and Emilie clambered onto her shoulders, being familiar with this process from rampaging around the village with the neighboring children.

  Rani straightened up slowly, and Emilie held her clawed hands to help her balance as she put first one foot, and then the other, on Rani's strong shoulders. Emilie pushed herself upright, let go of Rani's hands to lean against the wall and guide herself the rest of the way up. They did it as smoothly as a pair of acrobats at a fete, and Emilie was rather proud of them. She gripped the smooth edge of the window to steady herself, though there wasn't much purchase. By stretching and craning her neck, she could just see out.

  The view was of a huge open court surrounded by sizable buildings. Floating in it was the curve of a large dull gray-white object, almost filling the big space. There was some sort of netting over it, perhaps to hold it down... “It's an airship!” Emilie said, startled. “Is it Dr. Marlende's?”

  “No, that one isn't here. At least I hope not. That belongs to our meddlesome Lord Ivers.” Rani lifted her a little higher. “Can you see anything else?”

  “No, it's a bad angle.” Emilie peered down at her. She thought Rani was quite strong, as strong as a real acrobat. “Can I stand on your hands?”

  Emilie almost fell once, but after a moment they managed it, and Rani was able to lift her so Emilie's head was level with the top of the window.

  Now she could see the rest of the airship, and more of the court. They were about four stories up. The balloon wasn't round, as she had been half-expecting, but long and bullet-shaped, coming to nearly a point in the front, stretched over a rigid framework. Below the huge swell of it and running nearly half the length, there was a long cabin with curving wooden walls and big round windows. It looked large enough to have at least two decks, which surprised Emilie. She had thought it would be smaller, more like the hot air balloons that sometimes came to holiday fairs. The buildings lining the court had the open galleries that were usual for the city, but she didn't see any sign of life on them. And the walls and pillars looked dingy compared to the buildings around the palace, as if these structures weren't much occupied or cared for. She said, “These buildings look empty. I wonder how many merpeople know Lord Ivers is here. Is Dr. Marlende's airship that large?”

  A little breathless, Rani said, “Less sight-seeing, more cogent information.”

  “Sorry!” Emilie reached through the window and grabbed the outer edge, chinning herself on it. Now she could see the platform dock just below the airship's cabin. The airship itself was floating over the water filling the court, but it was tethered to the stone pillars of the lowest level with thick cables. A gangplank had been stretched over the water, between the open cabin hatch and the dock. She saw three men dressed in dark blue uniforms carrying supplies aboard, small metal casks, boxes. “They're loading it. They might be getting ready to leave. I don't see anyone who might be Lord Ivers.”

  “Oof, all right, come down.” Rani lowered her part way, until Emilie could jump down.

  They faced each other. “What happened?” Emilie asked. “We found the island where you were supposed to be, and your ship.”

  “These people, the same sort of sea people who live in this city, arrived one night, slipped past our watchmen, and captured us. Then they threatened us, and forced Marlende and his men to surrender.” Rani made an elegant gesture. “It was not our finest moment as a crew of intrepid explorers.”

  “Were these the nomads? The Queen of the merpeople told us you and Dr. Marlende's crew had been captured by nomads,” Emilie said, and had a moment to wonder at what an odd turn her life had taken that it made sense for her to say something like that.

  “Yes, they took the airship, and accused Marlende of being in league with this Queen to destroy them. He was trying to persuade them otherwise, but without much luck. We still hoped help would come to the island, so on the third night of our journey, the others contrived a distraction, and I slipped over the side of the nomads' ship. Then I returned to the island, hoping Kenar and Jerom would show up soon.”

  Emilie nodded. “How did you get back? Did you steal a boat?”

  Rani said, “I swam, from island to island.” Emilie stared, and Rani added, “I didn't say it was easy.” She continued, “But I had only been there a day or so, when another airship arrived.”

  Emilie suddenly saw what had happened in disheartening detail. “Oh. Lord Ivers. But you thought it was us.”

  “Yes, another of those not-finest-moments,” Rani said, her voice dry. “Marlende had not made clear that he had enemies who would follow him here.”

  “I don't think he knew. Miss Marlende knew he had rivals, but I think it was a surprise to everyone just how...” Emilie waved her hands. “…Big a rivalry it was. Lord Ivers' men boarded our ship and shot at us while we were leaving the port, but I don't think Lord Engal knew that Lord Ivers had already come down here.”

  “I see.” Frustrated, Rani turned to pace the cell, like a big cat in a cage. She tugged on the door handle, apparently just to see if their captors had forgotten to lock it, but it didn't budge. “Now which one is Lord Engal?”

  “He's the one Miss Marlende asked to come down here to help her father. Well, not asked, but bribed him with her father's work. He's here with his ship, but he and the others don't know Lord Ivers is here too. The Queen told them the nomads had captured you, but she didn't say anything about the rest. Do you know what Lord Ivers is planning?”

  “He has not been forthcoming on that point,” Rani said with considerable irony. “But I think it is the Queen who has the plan. The nomads were convinced she meant to destroy them with the help of some foreign weapon.”

  “Lord Ivers' airship,” Emilie said, feeling a sinking sensation. But Lord Ivers shouldn't want to get into a war, particularly a war in the Hollow World. He was an explorer, a scientist like Lord Engal, if more violent and ruthless. If he helped the Queen fight the nomads, he would just waste time... Oh, that has to be it, she realised. “It was a trade!”

  Rani stopped, startled. “What was a trade?”

  “Lord Ivers wants to get back home before Dr. Marlende and Lord Engal, so he can take the credit for the discovery. He must have got mixed up with the Queen somehow, and promised her he would help her fight the nomads. Somehow the nomads learned about it, maybe they have spies in the city, and that's why they went after Dr. Marlende's airship. But Lord Ivers doesn't want to keep his promise, so he's gotten the Queen to get Lord Engal to take his place.” Emilie turned to look up at the window, frowning. “I bet they are leaving. They're getting ready to go back up the aether-current to home.”

  Rani stared, appalled. “That is what this is all about? Who claims credit?”

  “Yes.” Emilie admitted, “It's stupid.”

  “That is one word for it.” Rani shook her head, her beaded braids flying. “I don't want my crew mixed up in a war. No good can come of it.”

  She was right about that. “Lord Engal will know something is wrong. He'll want to know what happened to Miss Marlende and me.”

  “The Queen can hold you hostage, force him to do as she says.” Rani looked down at Emilie, her brow furrowed in consternation. “Would he do t
hat?”

  “I think he might.” Emilie looked up at the round window again. It looked small from this angle, but when she had pulled herself up into it, it had been an inch or so wider than her shoulders. “I can climb out that window.”

  “What?” Rani looked from Emilie to the window. “And then what, fly?”

  “I can climb down. Then I could warn Lord Engal.” Emilie felt the need to swallow in a suddenly very dry throat. This was much higher than the balcony over the water garden. But she had to be the one to do it. Rani, who was at least as big and strong as Kenar, would never fit through the narrow space, let alone the fact that Emilie could never lift her high enough to reach it. “I saw on the opposite wall, there's an open gallery on the level just below this one. If this side matches it-”

  “That's a lot to place on an 'if.'“ Rani eyed her worriedly. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” Emilie made her voice firm. Rani lifted a skeptical brow and Emilie amended, “Mostly. We've got to try something.”

  “That we do.” Rani looked at the window and winced. “But I hate to throw you out a window on such short acquaintance.” She crouched down for Emilie to climb on her back again.

  It wasn't any easier than it looked. Once Emilie got up to the window, she made sure there was still no sign of anyone on the galleries opposite, and that the men below, loading supplies onto the airship, didn't seem inclined to look up. Then she pulled herself halfway through the little opening, with Rani hanging onto her ankles to keep her from falling. That way, Emilie was able to lean out and look straight down the wall.

  Dangling, the cool breeze in her hair, she could see the low balustrade of a gallery on the floor just below this one. The wall was rough and ridged, but instead of water below, there was a stone platform with a pretty shell pattern, extending out from the lowest level. So if Emilie fell, there would be no chance of survival. Or not pleasant survival, anyway. “All right, I think I can do this,” Emilie muttered.