chapter TWELVE
Emilie found this return journey much more tense than the trip down, which didn't seem to make much sense. Maybe it was the fact that now she knew just how difficult and dangerous traveling in an aether current was. The first time it had just seemed like magic, the easy powerful magic of fairy stories. Now she knew it was really the hard uncertain magic of philosophical sorcery, and that it might fail at any moment and kill them all.
It didn't help that she felt as if these short days in the Hollow World had aged her at least ten years.
She spent the time with Miss Marlende, sitting in a couple of hard chairs in the chart-room. It would have been more comfortable to go down to one of the lounges, but neither of them did. It eased Emilie's nerves a little to be here, watching Lord Engal check the aether navigator and his copies of Dr. Marlende's diagrams. Sometimes he sent a sailor down to take a message with hastily scribbled figures to Dr. Marlende on the airship, or below decks to Dr. Barshion with a question.
But nothing went wrong, and tension started to segue into boredom. Emilie and Miss Marlende got up to stretch their legs, and walked around the ship a little. It was oddly quiet; everyone in the crew who wasn't manning a station had been told to stay in their quarters. It was eerie, and something of a relief to get back to the wheelhouse.
After a few hours, Mrs. Verian served a brief meal of sandwiches and tea, which Emilie helped her carry up from the galley. Having a full stomach made it harder to stay awake, at least for Emilie, and she dozed off and on for a bit, waking whenever she almost fell out of her chair.
She straightened up finally, blinking the sleep away, to see Lord Engal pacing back and forth in front of the wheel, rubbing his hands together briskly. He called a sailor in and sent him off with a hurried message for Dr. Marlende. “What's going on?” Emilie asked Miss Marlende.
“We're almost there.” Miss Marlende stretched and rolled her shoulders. “It's getting close to the time when we'll break off from the airship and make our way out through the fissure in the ocean floor.”
Emilie hugged herself, breathing out in relief. “We made it.”
Miss Marlende said, preoccupied, “I'll feel better when we're out of the current.” She glanced at Emilie. “What will you do when we get back, Emilie? Did you want us to drop you off at Silk Harbor?” She hesitated. “Or did you want to go home?”
Emilie frowned at the polished wooden floor, which was marred by sandy footprints and sandwich crumbs; it had been a few days since anyone had had time to think about things like sweeping the floors. Realistically, she knew her future at Silk Harbor was uncertain. Karthea would be hard-pressed to be able to provide her with any other wage than a place to sleep. You don't even know if she'll let you work for her. But if she won't... I'll think of something else. She said, “Silk Harbor. I still want to see if my cousin will let me help with her school.” She added tentatively, “Perhaps I can see you and Dr. Marlende again, when you're in town?”
Miss Marlende watched her, her brow furrowed in concern. “Are you certain? I'm sure whatever difficulty you had with your family- Perhaps I could help-”
“I can't go home.” Telling Kenar had been much easier, probably because he hadn't really grasped the full implication of what she had said. When she had first arrived on the boat, telling anyone else, especially Miss Marlende, had seemed impossible. But Miss Marlende knew her better now. Emilie glanced around, making sure the men in the wheelhouse were too busy to overhear, then reluctantly wrestled the words out. “Even if you and your father and Lord Engal gave me letters explaining what happened, even if you came with me and lied and swore that I'd been chaperoned the entire time, it wouldn't do any good. That's why I left.”
“Chaperoned? Oh.” Miss Marlende's frown deepened. “I think I see. There were accusations without basis?” She read Emilie's expression accurately. “And perhaps some threats of punishment for things you hadn't done, or didn't contemplate doing?”
“Yes.” Emilie felt a tightness in her chest ease. “My mother ran off to become an actress, and although she got married...”
“You would think, in this day and age...” Miss Marlende's mouth set in a grim line. “You don't believe there is any chance of reconciliation?”
“Not now. Especially not after I ran away,” Emilie admitted. “Maybe later. Years later.” The situation between the Sealands Queen and the Nomads had given her some perspective. She thought too much had been said on both her part and on her uncle's part for anyone to back down.
Miss Marlende said slowly, “Well then, perhaps, if the situation with your cousin doesn't work out, you'd be interested in a position as my personal assistant?”
“What? Yes.” Emilie blinked. “Doing what?”
Miss Marlende smiled. “I do a great deal of work for my father, writing letters, monographs about his work, plus traveling and meeting with members of learned societies, that sort of thing. I could use some secretarial help. And perhaps, if I have a younger woman in tow, I'd look a bit more matronly to some of the men I have to meet with, and they would be less inclined to treat me like a frivolous debutante.” She shrugged wryly. “Probably not, but it's worth a try.”
Emilie nodded rapidly. “Oh, yes. Thank you.” It sounded less like adventuring and more like a junior social secretary, but still... Social secretary to adventurers would be far more interesting than schoolteacher. It was a fabulous opportunity.
Lord Engal interrupted then, stepping out of the wheelhouse, frowning distractedly. “Evers? Where's Evers?”
“You sent Evers with a message to my father,” Miss Marlende reminded him.
Emilie thought she might as well start being useful immediately. “Do you need someone to take a message, My Lord?” She had remembered to call him “My Lord” that time; she hoped he had noticed.
He said, “Yes, to Dr. Barshion, if you don't mind. I asked him to send me the adjustments for the aether navigator we'll need to make for the Aerinterre surface current. It's not urgent at the moment, but I don't want to waste time once we break through to the surface.”
“I'll be right back.” Emilie went down the stairs, glad for a chance to work off the excitement. Her heart was pounding a little. She found herself looking forward to getting back a great deal more now.
She went all the way down to the lower deck, just above the engine room, and down the aetheric compartment corridor. The air was hot and damp. She passed the room with the device that kept the air clean inside the bubble. It had the same mist, earthy smell, and bemused operator as the first time she had seen it.
She reached the doorway of the aetheric engine room, where a sailor stood on guard. He nodded to her, smiling, and she recognized him as one of the men who had helped search the island where they had found the Lathi. “Hello. I've got a message for Dr. Barshion.”
Ricard poked his head out. He looked tired, and sweat was beaded on his forehead, but his expression was cheerful. It was another sign that things were going well down here. “Hello, Miss Emilie. He's not here. He went up to the wheelhouse to see Lord Engal.”
“No, he's not there,” Emilie told him. “That's where I've come from. Lord Engal wants the adjustments for the aether navigator for the Aerinterre surface current.”
Ricard stepped back and Mr. Abendle came to the doorway. Behind him, Emilie saw the copper dome on its plinth, connected to all the pipes and tubing. It was humming loudly and hissing a little as wisps of steam escaped from its pipes. Mr. Abendle had a bandana tied around his head like an old pirate. He said, “That's odd. Oh, I bet he went to Dr. Marlende first. I'll get the figures for Lord Engal and send someone up with them.”
“All right, thank you.” Emilie started away, feeling sweat already sticking her shirt to her back. She hoped she would have time to take a bath after they reached the surface.
She reached the cooler air of the stairwell, and stopped. The stairs that led down to the main engine room and the boilers were at the opposite end of the aetheric room corridor. This stairwell led down to the forward hold, where Lord Ivers and his men were held prisoner.
It wasn't that she was suspicious... But this was an odd time for the Sovereign's aetheric sorcerer to go missing, even temporarily. If, just say if, Lord Engal sends a sailor with a note, asking for the figures, she thought, Dr. Barshion pretends it's asking him to come to the wheelhouse, and no one knows where he is. That would be one reason for Lord Ivers to put himself in Lord Engal's power, if he had a man on the inside, someone who could help him... Do what? Escape after we get to the surface? she wondered.
You've read too many novels, Emilie. But now the thought was like an itch in a place you weren't allowed to scratch in public. I'll just take a look at the guards to make sure everything is all right.
She went down the stairs. There was a short corridor at the bottom, but only one open hatchway along it. She headed toward it, prepared to say that Lord Engal had sent her to see if everything was all right. Though that was a little unlikely. Maybe she could say...
Emilie froze in the hatchway, staring. The four crewmen left to guard the hold lay sprawled on the floor, and the door behind them was wide open. They were wearing only their shirts and drawers; their uniform jackets and trousers were missing.
It took her a full minute to believe her eyes. Especially since Dr. Barshion was also sprawled on the floor near the crewmen, a bloody gash in his forehead.
He stirred and moaned a little, and Emilie hurriedly knelt beside him and patted his cheek, demanding, “Dr. Barshion, are you all right? What happened?”
Barshion groaned, his eyelids fluttering. He said, “I told him I wouldn't do it. Sabotage, slowing Engal down, that was what he paid me for, not murder. I'm not-” His eyes opened and he focused on her. He grabbed her arm, hard enough to hurt, and gasped, “Stop him. Separating the vessels, it could kill everyone aboard...”
Dr. Barshion slumped back, his eyes closed, and Emilie shot to her feet. She ducked back out to the corridor and tore up the stairs. She wanted to shriek at the top of her lungs for help, but if the escaped prisoners were nearby, they could catch her, stop her from warning the others. Lord Ivers had had a crew of nine besides himself, though only four would have Sovereign uniforms; it was mainly those four she was worried about.
She ran down the aetheric compartment corridor, reaching the startled sailor guarding the engine. She stepped into the doorway, where Ricard and Mr. Abendle were checking dials and writing down the readings. She said breathlessly, “Lord Ivers' men escaped! You have to lock yourselves in until they're caught.”
They both looked up, incredulous. Mr. Abendle said, “What? Escaped?”
Already backing away, Emilie said, “The guards were drugged, knocked out, I have to warn everyone- No, you stay there!” she added as the sailor started to follow her. “Guard the engines!” Running for the stairwell, she hoped he listened to her.
She ran up the stairs and paused on each landing to look down the corridors, but she didn't see any other crewmen to alert. She reached the second deck and hesitated, torn between running up to the wheelhouse to give the warning and going immediately to the airship. No, better go to the airship first. She would alert them and then take the word up to Lord Engal. The airship was far more vulnerable than the wheelhouse.
Emilie ran lightly down the corridor, her bare feet making little noise. Losing her boots was standing her in good stead now. The ship was still quiet except for the distant engine noise, but now that seemed sinister rather than serene. As she reached the outer corridor, the one that ran parallel to the deck, she saw the nearest hatch was partly open. Uh oh. She was certain Captain Belden had ordered all hatches be kept closed. It was possible whoever had taken the last message to Dr. Marlende had left it open. Possible, but not likely, Emilie thought grimly. She flattened herself against the wall and peered through the opening.
The first thing she saw was Daniel, standing on the airship's catwalk above the steps that led down to the ship's deck. A sailor in the dark Sovereign crew uniform was just starting up toward him.
Emilie's eyes narrowed, then she swore in recognition. It was Cavin, the man who had guarded Rani's prison cell in the Sealands city.
Emilie shoved the hatch open and ran onto the deck, and shouted, “Daniel, stop him, he's one of Lord Ivers' men!”
Daniel looked toward her, startled, and Cavin charged up the stairs at him. Daniel stepped forward to block the stairs, ducked a punch from Cavin, and grappled with him.
Seth came out of the door behind him, shouted a warning to the men inside, then dove forward to help Daniel fight off Cavin. The other escaped prisoners ran out of a hatch at the stern end of the Sovereign's deck, Lord Ivers among them, and Emilie ducked back into the corridor. Now she had a clear path to warn the wheelhouse.
She ran back to the cross corridor and nearly slammed into the chest of a crewman. She stumbled back, saw his face and his ill-fitting jacket over a stained shirt, and yelled, “They know you've escaped, I've warned everyone-”
He grabbed her shoulders and snarled, “Shut up or I'll-”
That was as far as he got, as Oswin loomed up behind him and cracked him across the back of the head with a pistol butt. He fell away from Emilie and collapsed onto the floor. Emilie gasped in relief. She told Oswin, “There are more of them, outside, I tried to warn the airship-”
“We know; Mr. Abendle sent Ricard to the wheelhouse.” Oswin brushed past her, followed by six large sailors. They ran back to the outer hatch and charged out onto the deck.
Emilie started to follow them out the hatch, but jerked back as gunshots rang out. She peeked around the edge of the hatch more cautiously, saw men fighting in a confused scramble toward the end of the deck. Then the attackers retreated back through the hatch there, leaving a couple of men lying unconscious or dead on the deck. Emilie heard them pound down the corridor toward her. Alarmed, she darted out onto the deck and slammed the hatch behind her.
Oswin and his men pursued the prisoners back into the ship, obviously determined to protect the wheelhouse and the engine rooms, but Emilie saw the door to the airship hung open. Oh, no. She ran forward to the end of the stairs that led up to the catwalk, trying to see inside. Figures fought in the dimness inside the cabin, but she couldn't tell who they were, who was winning.
Then Daniel staggered out of the cabin onto the catwalk, struggling with another man. The other man was bigger and Emilie didn't think the outcome looked certain at all. She looked around desperately, spotted a pistol lying near the hand of one of the fallen attackers. She grabbed it up, finding it unexpectedly heavy.
But as she turned back to the airship, Daniel got in a hard punch to the man's chin that made him stumble back until he fell over the railing down onto the Sovereign's deck. He struck the wooden surface hard, and Emilie stepped hastily away. Daniel saw her and grinned triumphantly, despite a bloody nose.
Then Lord Ivers stepped out of the cabin door behind him. Emilie pointed, yelling, “Look out!” but as Daniel swung around, Ivers pointed a pistol at him. Daniel froze.
Ivers strode down the catwalk, seized Daniel's shoulder and turned him around, pressing the pistol to his head. He said, “Cooperate or I'll blow your head off.”
Gripping her pistol tightly, Emilie bolted up the stairs. “Let him go!”
Lord Ivers turned on the narrow catwalk and dragged Daniel with him, the barrel of the pistol pressed against his temple. But as Ivers saw Emilie, his expression went from furious to amused. “Sorry, but I'm afraid I need him. Dr. Marlende has locked himself inside the steering cabin and I can't get him to open the door without a hostage.”
He didn't look worried at all. Oh, that's not a good sign, Emilie thought. “Don't move. I'll shoot.” She pointed the gun, trying to project an aura of deadly certainty. If she could have fired, she would have done it already. She had never held a pistol before and she didn't know if you had to do anything before pulling the trigger; she was afraid if she fumbled it, Lord Ivers would shoot Daniel. Also, she knew it might kick, and she was terribly afraid of firing a bullet into the airship. She wasn't sure one bullet would hurt the balloon, but they were right down near the engines and it might go through the glass. She couldn't count on any help from inside the airship; she could hear violent fighting still going on in the cabin.
“You won't,” Ivers said confidently. “A well-brought-up young lady like you.”
“I'm not a well-brought-up young lady,” Emilie said, projecting confidence. Ivers knew nothing about her, after all. “I'm a stowaway, and a thief, and a lookout for a dock gang that steals mail bags.” And an accomplished liar, she almost added, then decided against it.
Daniel's eyes widened. She had convinced him, at least.
Ivers stared, his brows drawing together in consternation. But he tightened his grip on Daniel. “Nevertheless, I'll kill him if you don't get out of my way.”
“Why should I?” Emilie countered. “I don't like him; he's been terribly rude to me.”
Daniel glared, clearly offended. At least she was distracting him from the gun at his temple.
“You don't like him?” Lord Ivers dragged Daniel forward. Emilie held her ground, though she had the feeling this wasn't going to work out for the best. From Lord Ivers' sneer, he clearly knew she was bluffing. “A handsome boy like him?”
“I'm impervious to physical attraction,” Emilie tried.
“It's true,” Daniel managed to gasp.
Emilie pressed her lips together. No, the stalling wasn't going to work. But she saw something out of the corner of her eye, on the Sovereign's railing, behind Lord Ivers.
It was Miss Marlende. She was leaning out on the railing, aiming her pistol at Lord Ivers, obviously trying to find an angle where she wouldn't hit the airship or Emilie.
Emilie's heart leapt but she controlled her expression and made herself focus on Lord Ivers' face. “If you let him go I'll drop the pistol,” she offered.
It was the wrong thing to say. Lord Ivers' expression twisted and he muttered, “Sorry, my dear, I've no more time to waste.” Gripping Daniel around the neck, he pointed his pistol at Emilie.
Emilie yelled and dropped into a crouch, covering her head, though she knew that wouldn't help. The gun went off with an ear-shattering bang, but it was Lord Ivers and Daniel who jolted forward and collapsed onto the catwalk.
Emilie scrambled forward to grab Lord Ivers' pistol out of his nerveless fingers. Ivers was half atop Daniel, and neither man was moving, and there was blood splashed on the metal beneath them. Emilie shoved both pistols down the catwalk and turned back to the men, struggling to lift Ivers off Daniel without dumping either one off the walk.
Footsteps clattered on the steps behind her and she threw a wild look around, but it was Miss Marlende. She shoved her pistol into her belt, saying, “We have to get them inside! The protection spells are about to separate.”
Emilie got a grip on Lord Ivers' arms and put all her weight into dragging him off Daniel. Miss Marlende stepped around her, grabbed his belt, and heaved him off. To Emilie's relief, Daniel groaned and stirred, lifting his head. “You had to shoot them both?” Emilie asked, breathlessly, helping Lord Ivers along with a shove as Miss Marlende hauled him down the catwalk. “Not that I'm complaining-”
“It was the only angle I could get that didn't include the airship,” Miss Marlende explained, her voice rough from effort. “When you ducked, I was able to take the shot. Hopefully, I just winged Daniel.”
“I think so,” he groaned, trying to push himself up. “Ow.”
Emilie got his free arm and pulled it over her shoulders, and helped him shove to his feet. They staggered after Miss Marlende. Emilie said, “I think someone's still in the cabin. Seth was-”
The airship's door flew open and Cavin came staggering out. Seth lunged after him, delivering a punch to the head which knocked Cavin down the stairs to sprawl on the deck.
“That's the last of them,” he gasped to Miss Marlende. His glasses were askew, his knuckles bloody, and he looked more like a prizefighter than a scholar. He reached for Lord Ivers and helped Miss Marlende drag him through the doorway.
A young crewman ran out of the third deck hatch, calling over to them, “Ma'am, the ship's secure, and Lord Engal says we need to go now!”
Miss Marlende told him, “Get those men and yourself inside, then shut the hatches!”
The crewman went to the rail, spotted the men lying on the deck, and waved an acknowledgment. Emilie helped Daniel toward the door into the airship, saying, “If splitting the bubbles doesn't work, will it matter if we're inside or out on the deck?”
Miss Marlende gave her an admonishing look. “Hush, Emilie.”
Daniel groaned again. On the deck below, several crewmen ran out of the hatch, seized Cavin and the other fallen men by their jackets, and dragged them inside. As Emilie helped Daniel through the doorway, she saw Cobbier and Mikel sprawled unconscious on the airship's deck, with another one of Lord Ivers' men. Charter was leaning in the doorway to the steering cabin, looking gray around the mouth. The fight couldn't have been very good for a recently wounded man. Seth dumped Lord Ivers beside the other escaped prisoner, Charter tossed him a coil of rope, and he hurriedly began to tie them up. Emilie looked back out the door and saw Miss Marlende hadn't followed them inside, but had run down the steps to the deck, starting to untie the line that formed the symbolic connection between the two ships.
Emilie deposited Daniel on the first bench seat, and ducked back out again as Miss Marlende climbed back up to the airship. Together they lifted the end of the set of steps where it was hooked onto the catwalk and dropped it down to the Sovereign's deck. As they stepped inside, Miss Marlende slammed the door behind them and shouted, “Tell father we need to go now!”
Seth bolted for the steering cabin and Charter just slid to the floor. Emilie took a step toward him, then stumbled when the airship shuddered. The deck slammed up and hit Emilie in the face. At least that was what it felt like. Sprawled on the cork floor, she lifted her head. Miss Marlende had fallen too, and Daniel had been knocked flat on the bench.
Emilie shoved herself upright, using the bench as a ladder, and leaned over Daniel to look outside. The Sovereign was gone. She could see something past the golden glow of the bubble, and realized it was rocky walls, stretching up.
Beside her, Miss Marlende staggered to her feet, and gasped, “I think we were a bit late on the release.”
“A bit?” Daniel said, still trying to struggle upright.
“What does that mean?” Emilie asked.
Miss Marlende began, “It means-” Outside, the bubble shivered, going almost translucent, before it solidified again. Emilie flinched, and Miss Marlende finished, in a smaller voice, “We might not have enough power.”
“Oh.” Emilie bit her lip, watching the rock stream rapidly past the fading glow of the bubble. “It was Dr. Barshion. He was in Lord Ivers' pay.”
“That explains a great deal,” Miss Marlende said, her voice tight with anger. “I hope he hasn't killed all of us.”
The airship shuddered, metal squealed, then a powerful jolt threw them all to the floor again. Sprawled there, Emilie saw the gold glow of the bubble vanish. “Oh no,” she gasped, “I think-” we're dead, she meant to finish, but that was daylight streaming in. Real daylight, surface daylight.
The pressure vanished and the airship jolted and shuddered again, but this time the force came from the side, like a strong wind. Emilie struggled to her feet and knelt on the bench to look out the window.
They were rising above a vast rocky cauldron, the top of the volcano. Clouds streaked the blue sky and wind whistled around the cabin. It pushed the airship over the rim, and they drifted above the outer slopes. They were rocky and bare at the top, sliding down amid boulders and old rock falls into a forest of short wind-twisted trees. Miss Marlende called out, “Father, we're losing altitude!”
“Yes, my dear,” Dr. Marlende answered from the steering cabin. “I believe we've lost a number of gas cells.”
“Are we going to crash land?” Emilie craned her neck for a better view of the slope. If they were, it looked as if they were going to do it very slowly. Now that the bulk of the volcano was blocking much of the wind, the airship was spiraling slowly down. At least they were on the surface, out of the aether current.
“Yes,” Miss Marlende said, “But we still have enough gas cells left so it will be more of a thump than a crash.” Her brow furrowed with worry, she added, “I just hope the Sovereign made it.”
“Can someone help me up?” Daniel asked from the floor.
“Oh, sorry!” Emilie helped Miss Marlende haul Daniel back to the bench. When they had him sitting up, Emilie turned back to the window.
“Can you see it?” Miss Marlende asked anxiously.
They were past the tree-covered slopes and over flat grassy fields, and Dr. Marlende was guiding them gently down in a wide spiral. As the airship turned, Emilie caught sight of the sea, past low rocky bluffs. She leaned close to the glass and squinted against the glare off the water. She saw light glinting off something, something coppery. “Yes, there it is!” she cried out.
It was the Sovereign, steaming toward the island shore.