chapter THREE
The next several minutes were problematic, at least for Emilie. She had thought Lord Engal looked like a shouter, and he proved her right, railing on about spies and stowaways and wasn't anybody guarding the ship, as Miss Marlende repeated Emilie's story. To her credit, Miss Marlende continued doggedly, despite the noise and interruptions. At the end, Lord Engal turned to Emilie and demanded loudly, “Why shouldn't I throw you overboard?”
Emilie folded her arms, skeptical. After all the shouting and turmoil at home, being threatened with a dire fate wasn't as shocking as it ought to have been. She said, coolly, “I suppose you should throw me overboard, if you don't mind being a murderer. I prefer being shot to being drowned, if I'm given a choice.”
Silence fell as Lord Engal was rendered momentarily speechless. Leaning casually against the rail, Kenar said, “You're not killing a child.” There was a cold edge to his voice.
“Of course I'm not killing a child!” Lord Engal thundered. “We're not savages,” he added, glaring at Kenar.
“I'm glad to hear it,” Kenar said, his tone making it clear that as far as he was concerned, the matter was still up for debate. Emilie could have objected that she wasn't a child, but decided against it. Despite Lord Engal's bluster, she thought Kenar was by far the more dangerous individual. It was just lucky that he seemed to have high moral standards.
Lord Engal pressed his lips together, then transferred the glare to Emilie. “You're very confident, if you are what you say you are.”
“What else would I be?” Emilie asked. She was discovering how much she had learned about verbal sparring from arguing with Uncle Yeric and her older brother. And Lord Engal had more important things to deal with than Emilie: outside the ports, the flooded city drifted by, small waves from their passage lapping at the white towers and graceful arches. Captain Belden was standing by the wheel and had cleared his throat three times; obviously decisions were called for.
Miss Marlende said impatiently, “Do you really think she's working with Lord Ivers' men? That seems unreasonable to me, and I've been dealing with his machinations much longer than you have.”
“Who's Lord Ivers?” Emilie asked.
Everyone ignored the question. Lord Engal said, grimly, “So you'll agree to take responsibility for her, then?”
“Yes,” Miss Marlende said. Then she looked a little appalled at what she had just agreed to. Emilie was a little appalled, also. She didn't think Miss Marlende thought much of her except that she was a nosy foolish stowaway. That that assessment was probably accurate just made it worse.
“Then take her below,” Lord Engal snapped.
Miss Marlende set her jaw, unmovable. “I will, once I find out where we are and how far we have to go to find my father's airship.”
“Ah.” Lord Engal rubbed his chin, deflating as he apparently recalled that there were more important concerns at the moment. “Yes, we'd better ascertain that.”
Captain Belden looked relieved. He signaled for another officer to take the wheel and stepped into the chart room. “Here, My Lord. I've got the readings from the aether-navigator.”
Lord Engal strode after him. “Come along, Kenar, we need your map.”
With one brow lifted in ironic comment, Kenar pushed away from the rail and followed.
Miss Marlende took a deep breath, still flushed from the argument. She looked down at Emilie and said, “His bark is worse than his bite, you understand.”
Emilie nodded politely, if noncommittally. The expression was appropriate for dogs, who were without personal malice and whose job was, after all, to bark; she didn't think it applied to people.
As they stepped into the chart-room after the others, Kenar took a folded packet out of his inside coat pocket and spread it on the table, flattening the creases with the blunt dark claws on the tips of his fingers. It was a map drawn in dark ink on thin cloth instead of paper, stained by dirt and grease. There were shapes sketched in, the outline of a coast with a large collection of islands, with notations made in a language with blocky letters that Emilie couldn't read.
“Now, where's… Ah, here we are.” Engal took the chart the officer held and put it down next to Kenar's map. Emilie had never been fond of geography, but she recognized Menea's coastline, with Meneport next to the mouth of the Seren River, and Silk Harbor some distance below it, and the other coastal cities scattered here and there. “They're not supposed to match up, are they?” Emilie asked Miss Marlende, keeping her voice low to avoid attracting undue attention. Since Miss Marlende was now in charge of her, maybe she would answer questions.
“No.” Miss Marlende shook her head, absently tucking back a frizzy curl of blond hair. “According to the maps Kenar has brought us and his own observations, there's no correlation between land masses.”
Emilie nodded toward the port, looking out over the serene sea. Sunlight was glinting off the white facing of a fluted column, the top chipped and worn by weather. “That's not the Sun, is it? It's a sun, but not our sun.”
“Kenar calls it 'the warm heart of the earth.' There are other solid bodies in orbit around it that cause periods of darkness. One is called the Dark Wanderer, and the people who live here use it to determine directions. West is darkward, the direction the Dark Wanderer comes from, and east is antidarkward, the direction the Dark Wanderer takes when it leaves the sun.” Miss Marlende stared out the port, caught for a moment by the view over the crystal water. “I can't believe we really made it here,” she murmured.
Emilie couldn't, either. She supposed it would sink in over time.
Captain Belden was using a triangular plotting instrument to mark a position on the chart, and Kenar had his own system, using the widths of his fingers to measure and a stub of pencil to mark the points.
Lord Engal's brow furrowed as he studied the results. He said, “We left the fissure nearly ten hours early, at this point.” He tapped the spot on the chart that Captain Belden had plotted, some distance off the Menaen coast. “We know Marlende's party is here, in the vicinity of the Aerinterre mountain fissure.” He tapped another point on the chart, the outline of a large island. Then he looked at the other map, where Kenar had marked the same points. “Hmm.”
Emilie craned her neck to see. On the Hollow World map, the space between those points was blank. Kenar drummed his claws on the table and admitted, “Our ship was still charting this area. It was new territory for us.”
Captain Belden said slowly, “If our figures are correct, it should be the same approximate distance between the coast of Menea and the island of Aerinterre. That would be about two days' sail, if conditions are good.” He gave Kenar a hard stare. “If there's nothing in the way.”
“I don't know,” Kenar said pointedly. “If I knew, I would have put it on the map.”
Lord Engal let out a gusty breath, still frowning. “We've no choice. We can't return to the upper world until the motile is repaired, and if we can't go back, we must go forward. We'll try to reach Marlende's position.”
“We might not be able to go back,” Captain Belden said, “but we don't have to go forward. We could hold this position and make the repair.”
Miss Marlende stepped forward and slammed a hand down on the table. Emilie jumped, startled. Everyone else stared at Miss Marlende. Teeth-gritted, she said to Lord Engal, “The whole purpose of this, the whole reason we contacted you, gave you access to my father's work, was to help him and his crew. If you leave now, when he's within reach, so you can claim the discovery, I will-”
“I have no intention of leaving here without your father and his men,” Lord Engal cut her off. “That may not be my sole reason for pursuing this experiment, but it certainly is the most important.” He took a deep breath, and added more calmly, “Miss Marlende, you've repeatedly demanded that I trust you and Kenar. I would appreciate it if you would extend a little trust to me in return.”
Miss Marlende met his gaze for a long moment, then said, grimly, “Fair enough.”
With a pointed glance around, Engal continued, “As I said, we'll sail toward Marlende's position while Barshion and the engineers try to make the necessary adjustments to the aetheric engine. We'll also try to raise the airship on our wireless, though from Dr. Marlende's notes we know that the aether in the air here may interfere with radio waves. If we encounter obstacles, we'll deal with them as necessary. If we can't deal with them, I'll reconsider our course.”
Captain Belden didn't look happy, but he didn't object, either. Emilie, as annoyed as she was with Lord Engal, had to admit that this was as fair as possible, and probably what she would have done in his position. Miss Marlende seemed to agree. She said, with a trace of stiffness, “Thank you, Lord Engal. I can't ask for more than that.”
Then Lord Engal ruined it by saying, “I should think not.”
There was a lot of bustle at that point, everyone putting their heads together over the maps, and Emilie found herself shuffled out of the wheelhouse and into the corridor. Once there, she wasn't sure where to go. Everyone seemed to have temporarily forgotten that Miss Marlende was supposed to be in charge of her, and she didn't want to remind them. And she didn't want to draw too much attention and get herself locked up in a cabin for the duration.
But her stomach was growling, and she felt sure she wasn't the only one; somebody would be feeding the crew breakfast.
She went down the nearest stairs to the main deck, and once there followed the smell of fried bread and sausages down another stairwell to the crew quarters. The corridor opened into a crew lounge fitted up as a galley, with long tables and benches, where an older woman and a boy about Emilie's age were working at a small stove and counter, dispensing food. Several crewmen, some with bandages, black eyes, torn uniforms, and other signs of the fighting, were sitting down to eat or waiting for seconds. Emilie picked up a tin plate and a cup from a clean stack and joined the line.
She noticed most of the crew were Southern Menaen, like Lord Engal, or looked as if they had a mix of both Southern and Northern heritage. They could have all been hired from Meneport, but.they seemed very comfortable with each other, as if they had been together as a crew for a long time. They had fought off the attack on the ship in a very capable fashion; it made her wonder if Lord Engal did this sort of thing a lot.
From the talk she overheard, everyone was unsettled by the fight, tired, and deeply uneasy about their current whereabouts. Emilie thought it was a rational reaction to the whirlwind events of the past few hours.
When it was her turn, the boy who took her cup to fill it at the tea urn just stared at her, but the woman who was dishing out the food blinked in surprise and said, “Now who are you?”
“I'm Emilie.” She held out her plate hopefully. “I'm with Miss Marlende.” Maybe that would come in handy after all.
“Oh, well then, you should really be eating up in the passenger lounge,” the woman told her, but continued scooping sausage slices, fried bread, and potatoes onto her plate. “Verian, the ship's steward, is going to be serving up there.”
“But this looks so good,” Emilie said, and for once it was the complete truth. The sausage was plump, the bread soaked with butter and sugar, the potatoes nicely browned.
Her sincerity must have been evident, because the woman smiled, ladled more onto the plate, and said, “If you need anything, I'm Mrs. Verian.”
Emilie thanked her, took her mug of tea, and retreated. She went back up the stairs to the passenger decks, since she was less likely to be noticed there. Recalling there were tables and chairs on the glass-enclosed promenade, she headed for it.
The hatch was already open. Emilie peeked out cautiously, and saw Miss Marlende seated at a table. Kenar was nearby, perched on a supply locker built against the wall. They were looking out at the view, which was so arresting Emilie had to stop and stare a moment.
The ship was moving slowly, the low throb of the engines the only sound as they sailed along the edge of the flooded city. The clear water sparkled in the sunlight, and their wake lapped at the white towers, the wide pitched roof of a submerged building, a line of artistically twisted columns that marched away to nowhere. Emilie supposed there was no time to stop and explore, not before they had rescued Dr. Marlende. But maybe we'll have to come back this way, and have time to stop then, she thought.
Her stomach grumbled again, and she stepped out onto the promenade. She meant to say something polite, but then saw the distant shape in the sky. “What's that?” she demanded, interrupting their conversation.
She couldn't tell how far away it was. It hung in the sky, like a solid band of heavy gray cloud, except something seemed to be stretching up from it, a translucent column that vanished high in the air. Miss Marlende followed her gaze. “Oh, that. It's the other outlet for the Aerinterre aether current, the one that's connected to Mount Tovera in the surface world.” She sounded much calmer than she had in the wheelhouse. Perhaps Lord Engal's assertion that he still meant to find her father had reassured her somewhat. “There's so much free aether in the air here that we can actually see it with the naked eye, if the weather conditions are right.”
“Oh.” Emilie blinked, recalling herself. She stepped toward the table. “I hope I'm not interrupting.”
“No, we were wondering where you went- Where did you get that?” Miss Marlende said, as Emilie set her plate down and took a seat.
“The crew galley,” Emilie said, and started to eat.
“It's better than what they had in the passenger lounge.” Miss Marlende sat back with a sigh. Kenar made a disparaging noise, and she said, “Oh yes, oyster cocktail and salad are fine for you.” She explained to Emilie, “He doesn't eat meat, he thinks our vegetables are odd and our fruit tasteless.”
Chewing sausage and potatoes, Emilie glanced back at Kenar. He had shed the greatcoat and changed clothes. Over the trousers and worn leather boots, he wore a sleeveless red shirt studded with gold disks around the hem, and gold chains woven through his mane. It accented his alien appearance, making it easier to see the dark scales on his arms and where they gave way to short dark fur that spread up across his shoulders. He looked much more comfortable and much more at ease. She swallowed and said, “But you have pointed teeth.”
He took an apple out of a pocket and said, “You have flat teeth, and look what you're eating.”
“True.” Emilie polished off a piece of bread, and decided to try to get a few more answers. She asked, “Who is Lord Ivers, and why is everyone worried about him?”
Miss Marlende's brow furrowed, but she explained, “He's a very wealthy man, like Lord Engal, and he studies aetheric currents, like Lord Engal. We believe it's Lord Ivers who was responsible for the dock-raiders who attacked us last night. It wasn't just a coincidence; there were a few earlier attempts.”
“He wants the credit for the discovery?” Emilie guessed. She didn't know much about the prominent sorcerers and philosophers of Menea, preferring the more dramatic imaginary versions in popular novels. But in her aunt's society journal, she had seen mentions of awards and royal honors for philosophical achievement, inventions, discovering places and things, all of which seemed fairly minor compared to this. She thought finding a way to visit the Hollow World must be the biggest philosophical achievement of the age. “He's going to steal your father's glory?”
“Well, to put it bluntly, yes.” Looking out at the serene sea, Miss Marlende grimaced. “Lord Engal and Lord Ivers and my father were all working - separately, you understand - on mapping the aetheric currents that could be traveled in, the spells needed to protect a vehicle, and perfecting an aetheric engine. My father had an advantage. He's a sorcerer himself, unlike Lord Engal and Lord Ivers, who have to hire sorcerers who are experts in aetheric studies to work with. My father finished his engine first, and rushed to place it on an airship. He took a small crew, and entered the current inside the cauldron of Mount Tovera on Aerinterre. I camped on the island with the ground crew, and waited. He was gone for six weeks. Then Kenar arrived, to tell us the engine had failed and he needed help.”
“How did Kenar get back through the current by himself?” From what Emilie had observed, this was impossible, and she couldn't imagine climbing up through a volcano, even a dead one.
“There were several hot air balloons stored aboard the airship for emergencies, and my father fitted one out with the protective spell, so they were able to travel the current in it. Another man came with Kenar, my father's apprentice, Jerom Lindel.” Miss Marlende added, bleakly, “He died on the trip.”
From behind them, Kenar said, “The journey was...rougher than we expected. Jerom said the spell was meant to protect a large vehicle. It didn't work the way he thought it would, and there was nothing he could do to fix it.”
“I'm sorry,” Emilie said to both of them, meaning it. The man must have been a friend of Miss Marlende's. Kenar sounded as if the trip had affected him severely, and she didn't think he was someone easily overwhelmed.
Miss Marlende sighed. “Originally, the plan was for Jerom to get the materials needed to repair the airship's aetheric engine, and then he would set the spell on the balloon and he and Kenar would return through the volcano's current. But with Jerom dead, there was no one who could manage the spell.”
“I hope it doesn't hurt you to speak of him,” Kenar said, watching Miss Marlende.
Emilie said, “Did you have an understanding with him? I mean...” Shut up, Emilie, she thought, realizing belatedly she hadn't been acquainted with Miss Marlende nearly long enough to ask that question.
But Miss Marlende just shook her head, her expression regretful. “He was a good friend, but I wouldn't have married him. I don't intend to marry at all. I'm not sure I ever quite convinced him that I was serious about that.” She continued, “But his death also left us with no way to send assistance to my father and the others, so we had to go to someone for help. I chose Lord Engal to approach.” She gave Kenar a dry look. “I hope I made the right choice.”
He laughed, a soft huffing noise. “It's too late to change your mind now.”
“Well, if I'd chosen Lord Ivers, I'm not sure Lord Engal would have sent men to harass us, shoot at us, and attack the ship before we left.” She leaned back, her mouth set in an ironic line. “At least I don't think so.”
“I don't think so, either,” Emilie offered. “Lord Engal isn't subtle. He seems more the shouting-at-you-in-person type.”
Miss Marlende gave her a quizzical expression. “An astute observation.”
Emilie wasn't sure if she was being teased. She said, a little stiffly, “I'm used to dealing with people who shout.”
“Who shouts at you?” Kenar asked.
“Oh, you know, my uncle.” She made what she hoped was an offhand gesture, sorry she had brought it up.
“Is that why you ran away?” Miss Marlende asked, frowning a little.
“Mostly, yes.” Emilie made the answer abrupt, hoping they wouldn't ask any more. “And my oldest brother Erin ran away to join the merchant navy and he did very well, so I was just following his example. Without the navy.” He had been obsessed with going to sea and exploration, and used to make their other two brothers play his crew. Emilie had always been his second in command. Uncle Yeric had told Erin all his life that he meant him to stay at home and go into business with their cousins who lived in another town, and had never paid much attention to Erin's own aspirations. But in this new world, with all these new people, washed by a cool breeze on the deck of a ship sailing an alien sea, she didn't want to talk about her family. She asked Kenar, “Did our world seem very strange to you?”
“Yes.” He smiled, the points of his teeth showing. “The cold weather was rather unpleasant.”
“I'm afraid the whole thing was very unpleasant,” Miss Marlende said, rubbing her forehead. “Lord Engal didn't trust Kenar's word. I'm not sure why. It's rather a large amount of trouble to go to for an elaborate hoax. And you know, Kenar's not human, and it's rather easy to prove his appearance isn't a sorcerous illusion or trick. We had to be very careful to conceal his appearance when we were in Meneport. You'd think that would have substantiated our story all by itself.”
“It did.” Kenar snorted amusement. “He thinks I'm luring you down here to kill you and take his engine.”
Emilie pointed out, “If you had Dr. Marlende down here already, then you'd have his engine. Why would you need Lord Engal's too?”
“There's that,” Kenar said dryly. “I don't want any engines.”
“Logic didn't seem to enter into it.” Miss Marlende sounded as if she was more than fed up with Lord Engal. “Every time I thought we had convinced him, he seemed to change his mind again.”
Dr. Barshion, Emilie thought. He had been suspicious of Kenar, pressing Lord Engal about it even as the expedition prepared to leave. She debated mentioning it, but she didn't want to be seen as making trouble. And probably they already know Dr. Barshion doesn't trust Kenar. Yes, of course they did. Barshion had as much as said so when they were all waiting in the lounge together.
Miss Marlende was saying, “Lord Engal kept having Kenar locked in his cabin, if you'll believe it.”
“Thank you for letting me out,” Kenar told her.
She shrugged. “It was the least I could do.”
After a time, Kenar and Miss Marlende went back inside, but Emilie spent the next couple of hours sitting in a chair on the glassed-in promenade, just watching the flooded city go by. She tried to stay awake, not wanting to miss anything, but found herself napping occasionally, drifting off in the mild sunlight and fresh air.
The towers and columns had been growing fewer, with more distance between them, for the last hour or so. Emilie thought it might be because there were smaller structures in this area, only a single story tall, covered completely by the flood. But even standing on a chair and craning her neck, she hadn't been able to see any sign of it below the clear water. She had caught glimpses of mosaics, blue and green and flecks of other colors, set in plazas between the towers.
Then a shrill whistle from the bow startled her. She heard footsteps pounding along the upper deck, and rushed to follow. She ducked inside, went up to the top deck, and ran around to the bow, to the open observation area just below the wheelhouse. A few crewmen were already there, and Emilie saw immediately what had caused the lookout to call the alarm.
Some distance ahead, just visible over the top of a half-sunken colonnade, was a ship's mast. “What is it?” Emilie said. From what she understood, they were still a long distance from where Dr. Marlende's airship waited, and this looked like a sailing vessel. “A Cirathi ship?” Maybe Kenar's people had come this way looking for help.
One of the crewmen gave her an odd look. “Don't know, Miss. It looks like a wreck.”
Kenar and Miss Marlende arrived a moment later, with Lord Engal striding up behind them. Miss Marlende was asking Kenar, “Is it your ship?”
He went to the rail, staring hard toward the mast. The crewmen moved away from him a little uneasily. As the Sovereign drew closer, two more masts were visible, but the ship seemed to be sitting at an odd angle. He said, “No, it isn't the Lathi. I don't recognize...”
The Sovereign was moving past the colonnade that had blocked their view, and now they could see the hull of the ship. It was a wreck, lodged half atop one side of the pitched roof of a half-submerged structure. It was a long hull, longer than the Sovereign or even the Merry Bell, but the steam-driven paddlewheel on its listing port side was smaller, as was the smoke stack in the stern. Sails still clung in withered shards to the ruined mast, planking along the deck had rotted, and the metal hull was scraped and discolored by rust. “It's from our world,” Miss Marlende said. “But how-”
“It's the Scarlet Star, by God,” Lord Engal said, lowering his spyglass. “You can still make out the name on the bow.” He turned, waving up at the wheelhouse. He strode away, back toward the hatch that led inside.
“What's the Scarlet Star?” Miss Marlende asked, before Emilie could.
One of the older crewmen said, “She was a cargo steamer, heading toward Meneport, when she went missing in a freak storm. This was about ten years ago. There was always something thought funny about it. There was no sighting from the Southern Light, no wreckage washed up anywhere ashore.” He looked toward the battered wreck again, brow furrowed. “I guess this explains it.”
“How is that possible?” Emilie asked. She hadn't heard the story of the Scarlet Star before, but it had happened a long time ago. “It wouldn't have had an aetheric engine, would it?”
Everyone must have been wondering the same thing, because all the men were looking to Miss Marlende for the answer. Frowning, she said, “No, it couldn't have. But there is a theory that violent electrical storms do cause aetheric currents to act in very odd ways.”
Kenar said slowly, “Very odd, meaning...snatch a ship from the surface world and bring it through the rift in the ocean floor and deposit it here?”
“But it wouldn't have the spell bubble, like we did,” one of the crewmen protested. “It would be crushed when it was dragged under, wouldn't it?” It was the young man who had been helping Abendle with the aetheric engine. He looked as if he had been working all night, his curly hair flat with sweat and his uniform rumpled.
“It wasn't crushed, and it got here somehow,” Emilie pointed out.
“Yes, but Seaman Ricard is right,” Miss Marlende said, leaning on the rail and studying the wreck thoughtfully. “There must have been some protection for it. Perhaps the storm caused a pocket of air to form, and that was what was pulled through the rift, with the ship brought along as part of the pocket.”
Ricard looked at the wreck again. “So there could have been survivors?”
Kenar sound grim. “For a time, maybe. There's no help out here, no fresh water, no food.”
Emilie saw what he meant. This city must have been empty for decades, perhaps even before it flooded. And there was no land in sight. It would be a rather bleak spot, if you were stuck without a ship or other means of transport.
An officer called from the upper deck, and the crewmen ran to obey. Emilie felt the engines change pitch as the ship began to slow. She said, “We're going to stop and search the wreck.” She was torn between excitement at seeing a real ship wreck and feeling sorry for the crew. They must be dead, whatever had happened to them, whether they had drowned when the ship had been dragged into the aetheric current or died of hunger and thirst after being deposited here. She wasn't sure which was a better fate; both sounded painful and frightening.
“We're wasting valuable time.” Miss Marlende gripped the rail, sounding as if she was struggling to control her temper.
“No,” Kenar said. “It might tell us something about what we're to face in these waters.” He added, “And we can use all the help we can get.”
But the wreck provided no help at all.
The Sovereign slowed to a halt a little distance from it, and the launch was dispatched to investigate. Aboard were Kenar, Captain Belden's first officer Oswin, and six armed crewmen. Emilie and Miss Marlende waited on the deck with Lord Engal and Dr. Barshion, who was taking a brief respite from working on the aetheric engine and had come out for some air. They watched tensely, but after a short time of climbing over the wreck, the boarding party returned with little news.
“Nothing there, My Lord,” Oswin reported to Lord Engal after they climbed back aboard the Sovereign. “I found the cover of the log book but water had washed into the bridge and the pages had rotted away. There was no sign of the crew, alive or dead. I think they must have perished before the ship entered the rift.”
“There was no sign of anything,” Kenar added. “No supplies at all, in the hold or the cabins, no crates or casks, no blankets on the beds, no clothing, no pots in the cooking area. As if the ship was stripped.”
“Yes, but it's been there ten years,” Oswin said, before Lord Engal could reply. Emilie felt they had been arguing about this during the entire exploration of the wreck. “Everything that wasn't nailed down would have washed away.”
“Not everything,” Kenar said stubbornly.
“That aside,” Lord Engal put in firmly. “If there's nothing more to learn here, we'll continue. At least we can reveal the solution to the mystery of the Scarlet Star's disappearance when we return.”
He went back up the stairs toward the wheelhouse, and the crew dispersed back to their duties. Miss Marlende lifted a brow at Dr. Barshion and said, “When we return?”
His mouth set in a grim line, he said, “We're working on it.”