chapter FIVE
When they finally finished the search of the island, it was time for dinner, though there were several hours of daylight left before the next eclipse. Emilie ate with the others in the passenger lounge this time, since she knew they would be discussing what to do next and she didn't want to miss anything.
She sat in the back, eating a potted chicken sandwich, trying to stay unobtrusive. Captain Belden was here, as well as Dr. Barshion, Ricard, and Abendle, the engineer. The last three men looked terribly weary; they must have been working almost non-stop on the aetheric engine. Ricard's head was still bandaged from his encounter with the Sargasso creature.
“They could have taken the airship to the aetheric current, to test their repairs,” Lord Engal said, thinking aloud. “But why abandon the Cirathi ship?” He turned to Kenar, eyeing him uncertainly. “Your crew weren’t eager to travel to our world, were they?”
Kenar rubbed his eyes. With the scales and the fur, it was hard to see how affected he was, but Emilie thought his shoulders were tense and his usual calm self-possession was gone. Sounding a little exasperated, he said, “Not at all. Until we met Dr. Marlende and his crew, we thought your world a legend. We have our own concerns here. They could spare me for a brief visit, to help pay our debt to Marlende, but there is just no reason the others would make the trip.”
Captain Belden said, “Dr. Marlende could have left with the airship, and something attacked the ship's crew before they could leave the island.”
Emilie saw Kenar's jaw tighten at the thought. Miss Marlende sat forward impatiently. “This kind of speculation is useless. Our assumption must be that someone or something attacked the island, and both crews were forced to flee in the airship.”
Kenar looked up, his expression thoughtful, and Emilie found herself nodding. If something like the Sargasso creatures, or worse, had attacked, the airship would be the quickest way to escape. “The airship might have run out of fuel then, and be stuck on another island,” she said.
Captain Belden frowned at her, as if he didn't think she should be giving her opinion, but Miss Marlende said, “Yes, that could very well be it. The question is, how do we find them?”
“There hasn't been a peep out of the wireless, not that it's supposed to be much use down here,” Oswin said, sounding glum. “We can't track them through the air or the water. It's not as if they'll have left tracks.”
Abendle cleared his throat. “They might have.”
Intrigued, Lord Engal twisted around to stare at him. “Yes? Speak up, man.”
Abendle stepped forward, seeming uneasy with all the sudden attention, but he said, “Aetheric engines do leave tracks, My Lord, when they aren't traveling through aetheric currents.”
“But the airship's aetheric engine was damaged.” Miss Marlende looked uncertainly from Abendle to Dr. Barshion. “They shut it down to use the airship's conventional engine.”
“If it's even them still running the airship,” Oswin said. “If something didn't attack both crews to steal it.” Captain Belden nudged his shoulder in silent remonstrance.
Emilie didn't think Oswin was speaking out of turn. There was surely no one on the ship who hadn't considered the possibility that the Cirathi crew, and Dr. Marlende and all his men, might be dead or captured by something. It was an awful possibility, but it was still a likely one.
“Aetheric engines can't ever really be shut down, once they're started up,” Abendle explained. “The aether that powers them is still active, still producing power, and connecting with the aether in the air, if you see what I mean, even if the motile itself is not being used to draw the vehicle along an aetheric current. It's as if it pulls bits of aether into itself, and leaks bits out as it moves along. Like a normal engine will leak oil. Those bits will be clumped up, so to speak, much thicker than the normal concentrations of aether in the air.” He appealed to Dr. Barshion. “Isn't that true, sir?”
Everyone turned to Barshion. “Well, yes,” he admitted reluctantly. “It's a possibility. But I'm not sure how an aetheric engine would behave here, in this world. Its aetheric composition is different from our own, you know.”
Kenar was sitting up straight, listening intently. He looked hopeful for the first time since they had seen the empty Cirathi ship. Miss Marlende said, “We can try, surely.”
Emilie eyed Barshion, not sure why he was so reluctant. It's not as if we have a lot of other pressing things to do while we wait for him to fix our aetheric engine, she thought. Everyone else, even Lord Engal, seemed game to go on with the search.
“Yes, how would this be accomplished, Barshion?” Lord Engal said. “There should be some way to detect the traces of aether left behind...” He snapped his fingers. “The aether navigator!” He jumped to his feet, forgetting he still had a sandwich plate in his lap. He caught it agilely before it fell onto anyone's head, and handed it off to Captain Belden. “It should detect the presence of aether, any aether, even a small fragment in the air!”
Lord Engal dashed off down the corridor to the stairwell, apparently intending to test this immediately. Everyone set plates and cups aside as they hurried to follow.
In the wheelhouse, Dr. Engal, with Dr. Barshion and Captain Belden, poked at the aetheric navigator, making minute adjustments to its silver wheel, and turning it this way and that. Miss Marlende stood nearby, managing to look over the shorter Dr. Barshion's shoulder, but Kenar stood back at the port, looking toward the abandoned ship.
Emilie angled around, trying to get a good view without getting in the way or juggling anybody's arm. She finally found a spot where she could look under Lord Engal's elbow.
Emilie had read descriptions of aether navigators in her favorite sea adventures, but never seen one in person. The aether navigator had a flat silver plate, etched around with the symbols and degrees of the compass directions. Two silver rings could be rotated around it, apparently to help figure longitude and latitude, though Emilie couldn't quite follow how. On the plate itself, in a shallow dish, there was a silvery substance that looked like mercury, but was actually drops of clarified, stable aether. It would roll around as the plate was turned and rotated, pointing the way toward aether currents in the air and water.
Then Dr. Barshion said quietly, “Wait, wait. I think that's it.”
“Yes, it's reacting to a concentration of aether somewhere nearby.” Captain Belden carefully marked a spot on the outer ring. “But could it be traces from the airship's earlier movements, when it first arrived at the island?”
Tilting the navigator's wheel slightly, Dr. Barshion muttered, “I don't think it would remain that long...aether outside a current dissipates relatively quickly. And we know they were here for some time, preparing the balloon to make the attempt to get help from the surface...” The base plate tilted, sending the stable aether skittering around its shallow bowl. He stepped back, shaking his head, grimacing. “I'm sorry, I've pushed it out of alignment.”
“No, no.” Lord Engal frowned, catching the plate, his big hands unexpectedly gentle as he turned and angled it slightly. “Look at this; it's picking up something on the lower strata. Belden, you know more about surface aether navigation, is that what it looks like...?”
Belden leaned forward, reading the marks. “Faint traces in the water. Yes, My Lord. It's definitely there. That's going toward the east...” He glanced up at Miss Marlende. “Could the airship float?”
“Float?” She glanced at Kenar, brows lifted. “I suppose the main cabin might be somewhat buoyant, but I can't imagine that they would try to turn it into a boat. If they had all needed to leave by water, surely they would have taken the Cirathi ship.”
Kenar came forward, his scaly brow furrowed. “No, there was no plan for that... Perhaps another ship arrived, placed the airship on board, and carried it away.”
“It would have to be a large ship.” Miss Marlende paced away, shaking her head as she thought it over. “But it would be possible.”
“Did your people encounter anything like that in this area?” Belden asked Kenar, apparently forgetting how much he disliked him under the excitement of the mystery. “A vessel large enough to transport the airship? Or a settlement capable of building one?”
“No. In fact, we thought this area was mostly uninhabited.” Kenar pulled the folded square of map out of a pocket inside his shirt and moved over to the chart table to spread it out.
Oswin put in, “That empty city we passed, whoever built that must have had a fleet of ships.”
Lord Engal followed Kenar to the chart table. “Yes, of course, but it must have been abandoned for a century or more, long enough for the sea to shift.”
“Unless it was built in the sea originally,” Emilie said. If there were creatures here as strange as the Sargasso people, she didn't think mermen who lived half underwater and half above it were too far beyond the realm of possibility.
The others hadn't heard, but Miss Marlende stopped and stared at her for a moment. Long enough for Emilie to realize she had possibly said something very stupid. But Miss Marlende just pointed at her and said, “Keep that in mind.”
Tracing routes on the map, Kenar was saying, “One of the reasons we wanted to explore in this region is because so little was known about it. We know a great deal about far-flung areas of our world because of traders passing along maps and information. But no maps exist of this place, as far as we know. Except this one, which we were drawing up as we went along.”
“You hadn't explored in this direction?” Lord Engal tapped a spot on the map.
“Due east from this island? Not yet. Dr. Marlende hadn't ventured that way either. But we did see signs of ancient occupation, the remnants of very old buildings, similar to the flooded city we surfaced near. That was here, here, and here.” Kenar marked the points on the map. “Nothing we saw was anywhere near as large or as extensive as that city. But if these people once spread throughout this area, there may still be remnants of them living now.”
Lord Engal nodded thoughtfully. “The question is: why would Dr. Marlende accompany these people? Could they have promised him help with the airship? Their old city was nearly right atop an aetheric fissure; they may have had their own knowledge of aetheric engines.”
“That might be true,” Miss Marlende said. “If the Cirathi weren't missing. There might have been a reason for my father to leave with these hypothetical people, but not the Cirathi.”
“Yes.” Kenar frowned down at the map, still lost in thought. “My people wouldn't have abandoned their ship. Not unless it was a choice between that and death.”
Which really, Emilie thought, is what we all thought as soon as we saw the empty island. She just hoped they were all still alive, wherever they were.
After some discussion, they decided to tow the Cirathi ship behind them. Rigging this up took some time, but the sailing ship was light compared to the Sovereign's bulk, and it didn't seem to slow their pace. Emilie thought it seemed optimistic, too, implying that they were going to find the missing crews. They also topped off the Sovereign's water supply from the freshwater spring on the island, refilled the casks aboard the Cirathi ship, and replenished the food stores with some fruit and wild melons that Kenar said were good to eat.
The Sovereign turned east, following the tiny traces of aether. They had to go slowly, to give Captain Belden and Lord Engal time to adjust the navigator.
Steaming down a wide channel between scattered islands, they had come some distance by the time the Dark Wanderer started to move over the sun. These islands were different from the others, flat and low, with wide beaches, green reeds growing thickly out into the water, and shorter brushier trees. Up on the second deck, Miss Marlende lowered her spyglass and said to Kenar and Emilie, “Does this channel look man-made to you?”
Emilie nodded. From up here, she could see how the shape of the islands lining the channel seemed oddly regular. They might have been naturally sculpted by the water to look that way, but still, it was strange. “It does. It looks like a big canal, like someone chopped out whatever was in the middle and left the edges.” The light wind moved the reeds, and the air smelled of sun and sand and a little like the jasmine toilet water her aunt had been sent as a gift from relatives in Coress. Except this wasn't cloying, it was clean and fresh.
“I agree.” Kenar leaned on the rail. “Which implies that this channel leads somewhere.” He seemed outwardly relaxed, but Emilie looked at his hands, so tight on the railing it was stretching the scaly skin over his knuckles.
“We'll find them,” Emilie told him impulsively, though she was well aware that she was in no position to make promises. “All of them.”
“I know. I won't give up hope until we-” Kenar broke it off, shook his head, and smiled down at her, though the smile was a little wry. “When you get back to your own world, will you really be content to sit meekly in a school after all this?”
Miss Marlende, engrossed with her spyglass again, snorted. “Whatever she does, I doubt she'll do it meekly.”
“I don't know,” Emilie said, looking out over the sun-drenched islands. Though inwardly she was a little pleased by Miss Marlende's comment, she wasn't sure how she felt about all this yet. As if all her life she had thought her world was one thing: closed-in and solid with carefully defined boundaries; so much so that running away to a relative with a respectable girls’ school in Silk Harbor was almost unimaginably daring. Now the boundaries had fallen away, leave a broad vista that was stranger than anything she had read in a gothic novel.
Going back behind the walls would be very hard.
As the eclipse's line of darkness swept across the sea and the sandbars and islands, more crewmen were posted outside on the decks and the ship's lamps were lit. Emilie wanted to see how things were going in the wheelhouse without being labeled a snoop, so she managed to be on the spot when Mrs. Verian needed to send a tray of tea mugs and buns up to the men working there. Emilie hurried to volunteer herself.
She carried it up to the wheelhouse, where a young crewman directed her to set the tray on the chart table. As the other crewmen stationed there helped themselves, she lingered to watch Captain Belden and Lord Engal making minute adjustments to the navigator, and hastily scribbling notes on pads of paper. Sometimes they told the crewman manning the wheel to adjust their course slightly.
It surprised her to see that Lord Engal was so adept at this. She knew he wasn't one of those very rich men who did nothing with his time but hunt and buy horses. Emilie had read about lords who were members of the Philosophers' Society and spent all their time and money hiring philosophers and sorcerers to discover things and form theories and write books, and she knew Lord Engal must be one of them. But she hadn't expected him to be someone who could do some of the work himself.
Captain Belden yawned, quickly covering his mouth with his sleeve. “Excuse me, My Lord.”
“You're excused,” Lord Engal said absently. “Do you think we should travel through the night, again? We survived our previous experience, but I'd hate to run out of luck.”
Belden glanced out of the big window, thinking it over. The line of darkness was nearly upon them, coming at an angle toward the long narrow island on their port side. “I'd rather not run up on whatever it was that took the airship, without some sort of warning. But I'm not sure we can afford to lose a full eight hours.”
Lord Engal turned the navigator's wheel and made another note. “I'm not either. Finding Dr. Marlende has become less an act of charity and more of a necessity, since we need him to repair our aetheric engine.” Captain Belden snorted, startled and amused. Lord Engal cocked an eyebrow at Emilie and added, “You didn't hear me say that, young lady.”
“No, sir. My Lord.” Emilie was startled, both because she hadn't thought he had noticed she was here, and because she hadn't thought anyone else was worried by the lack of progress in repairing the engine. That was probably silly; they must have all noticed it, all been worried by it, even if they weren't speaking of it. They aren't speaking of it where you can hear, she amended. She would bet the crew had some choice words about it. She blurted, “Mr. Abendle thinks Miss Marlende should look at the numbers. Not the numbers, the figures. Something like that, to do with trying to fix the motile.”
Lord Engal, caught making a minute adjustment to the ring, didn't look up, but she could tell he was listening. Captain Belden stared at her, frowning slowly. “What's this?”
Emilie took a deep breath. It was a little late to reconsider now. “I overheard Mr. Abendle ask Dr. Barshion to show something, some calculations, to Miss Marlende, to get her opinion, but Dr. Barshion didn't want to. He didn't think it would help.”
Lord Engal finished the adjustment and cocked his head at her. “When was this?”
“A bit after breakfast, yesterday.”
Captain Belden seemed concerned. “Perhaps you should have a look at these calculations, My Lord.”
Lord Engal looked thoughtful, tapping his pencil on the pad of paper. “Perhaps I shall.”
Captain Belden nodded to Emilie, a clear dismissal, and she walked out of the wheelhouse, taking the stairs back down. She wasn't sure if he was going to listen to her or not. If he does, she realized a little bitterly, it would be a first for me. She just wasn't used to having things she said be taken seriously, especially by men.
But an hour or so later, when the complete darkness of the eclipse surrounded them and the ship had to slow to half-speed a message went around through the ship's speaking tube, calling everyone to the passenger lounge. Emilie wasn't called, but she went anyway.
Miss Marlende, Kenar, and Oswin came to the lounge, and even Dr. Barshion and Abendle appeared. Both men looked even more exhausted. Dr. Barshion was in his shirtsleeves, his hair mussed, his face lined with lack of sleep.
Lord Engal walked in and said without preamble, “We have a problem. We've lost the trail of aetheric traces.”
Kenar looked away, his shoulders slumping. Miss Marlende sank down on the couch, disappointed. “We were too late?” she asked. “The traces have faded?”
Engal shook his head. “No, it's that we're too close to the Aerinterre aether-current. It's so powerful it overshadows any other aetheric traces in the air, and the navigator points only toward it.”
“What now?” Kenar asked. Emilie stared at him, struck by a sudden realization: if they didn't find Kenar's crew, he had nowhere to go. Not only had he lost his friends, but he couldn't sail the big Cirathi ship by himself. He would have no way to get back home.
Engal said, “We'll keep our present course. We know the airship at least went in this direction. We can only hope we can see some evidence of it, some sign to point us toward it.” He scratched his beard absently, and added, “And in the meantime, Miss Marlende, I'd like you to give your assistance to Dr. Barshion and Mr. Abendle. Perhaps your familiarity with your father's work can aid them.”
Abendle brightened, and Dr. Barshion looked startled. “Oh yes,” he said, as if he hadn't heard of the idea before. “Her assistance would be welcome.”
Emilie tried to sleep, but managed only a brief nap in Miss Marlende's cabin. She was tired, but whenever she lay down, all she could think about was Kenar, and Dr. Marlende, and all the other lost people. And the fact that if Barshion didn't fix the aetheric engine, the Sovereign might join them. This place is lovely and strange and exciting, she thought, but I'm not keen to live here forever.
She got up, washed and dressed, and went up on the second deck above the bow, where Kenar was keeping watch. The night was cool, but not uncomfortably so, and the ship's spotlight swept back and forth over the dark water, catching glimpses of the high stands of reeds and the white sand beaches of the nearest island. She saw Kenar standing at the railing with another dark shape. It wasn't until it spoke that she realized it was Oswin. He was saying, “Yes, we've spoken about it, though no one's mentioned it to Lord Engal.”
As Emilie approached, Oswin said, “I'd better get back to my duties,” and walked back up the deck, giving her a nod as he passed.
She leaned on the railing next to Kenar. He was watching the lights of the launch a hundred yards or so ahead of them. It was taking soundings to make sure the Sovereign didn't run aground. She said, “What was that about?” She thought Oswin had left the conversation because he didn't want to frighten her.
Kenar had a better opinion of her nerves. He said, “They're worried about the coal and oil store. This ship carries enough for long ocean voyages, but they were also planning on staying in the aether current for a longer period of time. I pointed out that if they wanted to remain longer, we could find a safe spot to anchor this ship, leave men to guard it, and continue the search with the Lathi.” He added wryly, “I'd have to teach most of them to sail first, of course.”
“That makes sense.” Emilie propped her chin on her folded arms. “It would give us more time to search.” She thought about asking Kenar what he would do if Lord Engal decided to call off the search and leave. But then we can't leave until they fix the aetheric engine, Emilie thought, so right now we're all in the same boat. Literally. So there was no point in asking painful questions yet.
“What's this?” Kenar said suddenly.
Emilie looked up. She could see the launch's running lights on the bow and stern. It had stopped and turned sideways. That was odd. “Is it coming back?” she said. “Maybe it's too shallow up ahead.” If it was too shallow for the Sovereign and the Lathi, it had surely been too shallow for the vessel which had carried away the airship. I hope we haven't taken a wrong turn already, she thought.
“Perhaps, but...” Suddenly gunshots rang out over the water. “It's under attack!” Kenar pushed away from the rail and ran back toward the stairs to the lower deck.
Emilie leaned forward over the rail, as if that would help her see better. The ship's spotlight swung around, illuminating the water just past the launch, and she gasped. There were suddenly other boats in the water, low flat rafts, as if they had popped up out of nowhere. She caught glimpses of slim figures, tossing ropes at the launch as if trying to catch it and pull it in. And they were throwing things, which reflected silver in the light - Emilie jerked back as a short javelin bounced off the railing just below her. “Uh oh,” she gasped, and bolted for the hatch.
She ducked inside and took the first set of stairs down. Coming out on the main deck cross-corridor, she dodged a sailor with a rifle running for the outer starboard hatch. She fell in behind him.
As they neared the hatch Emilie heard yells and a series of thunks. They're boarding us, she thought in alarm. The sailor burst out of the hatch ahead of her, then staggered back, dropping his rifle. He turned toward her, his eyes wide with shock; a narrow metal bolt was sticking out of his shoulder.
Emilie lunged forward and grabbed his other arm, supporting him. He sagged against her, and she stumbled, took a breath to shout for help. Then over his shoulder she saw three silvery forms climbing over the railing.
They looked like people, but their skin was iridescent, glinting in the ship's lamps. And they were carrying short spears. Oh no. Panic gave Emilie strength and she pulled the wounded man back through the hatch, half dragging him over the rim.
She couldn't run with him, and there was no one else in the corridor. She shoved him against the nearest wall, and turned back to the hatch. The three men, creatures, whatever they were had seen the open doorway and started toward her. Emilie grabbed the handle and swung it closed, just as they reached it. She slammed the bolt home, feeling a violent tug from the other side that told her she was just in time.
Emilie caught a glimpse of a smooth, silvery face peering through the porthole, and stumbled back. She shook her head, looking down at the wounded sailor. He was slumped against the wall, his face ashy with shock, blood staining his uniform around the bolt. She leaned over him, but he gasped, “The other hatch, check the-”
“Oh hell!” Emilie shoved to her feet and ran down the outer corridor. There was another hatch barely thirty feet down the length of the ship, she could see it standing open, the light from the nearest sconce falling through it out onto the deck. The intruders would surely notice it.
Almost to the door, a silvery form stepped through, spear first. Emilie slid to an abrupt halt. Oh, oh, no. It stared at her and she stared at it. Its face was smooth and oddly textured, but more human than the Sargasso creatures, with dark eyes, a small nose, and a thin-lipped mouth. She looked around wildly, but the corridor was horribly bare of potential weapons. There wasn't even a vase to throw.
Then gunshots sounded from the deck, close enough to make Emilie's ears ring, and the intruder jerked back out of the hatch.
Emilie gasped, realizing she had been holding her breath. She went to the hatch, reaching it in time to see Kenar, Miss Marlende, and several sailors running up the deck. The sailors were armed with rifles and Miss Marlende had her pistol.
Kenar flung up a hand, shouting for them to stop. As they halted, Emilie looked down the deck to see there were now perhaps ten of the silvery intruders ranged down near the other hatch. They had the spears, and long tubes that might be projectile weapons. Emilie thought of closing and locking the hatch, but if Kenar and Miss Marlende and the others had to take cover, it was the closest way to reach safety.
Kenar called something to them in a language Emilie didn't understand; whatever it was, it sounded angry. They didn't answer. Miss Marlende said, “Tell them we'll fire unless they get off the ship.”
“I don't think they can understand me,” Kenar told her. “Try firing over their heads-”
He was interrupted by a strange, loud sound, like someone trying to blow a badly damaged horn, coming from somewhere out in the water. Abruptly, the intruders bolted for the railing, leapt it, and landed with huge splashes below.
“What?” Emilie said aloud. She didn't see any reason for the sudden retreat. Kenar, Miss Marlende, and the sailors cautiously approached the railing, but it didn't appear to be a trick.
Emilie shut the hatch and went back down the corridor, worried about the wounded sailor, but Mrs. Verian and another crewman had already found him. They had stretched him out on the corridor floor, and Mrs. Verian was pressing a towel around the base of the bolt still sticking out of his shoulder. Blood soaked the towel and stained her hands, and the man's eyes were tightly shut, his face taut with pain. Emilie steadied herself on the wall, suddenly light-headed, with an odd heavy darkness trying to creep in around the edges of her vision. She looked away hastily, taking deep breaths. That's right, people faint at blood, she thought. She had never fainted at blood before, but then she had never seen anyone lose what looked like a bucket of it at one time. She couldn't faint; Mrs. Verian certainly didn't have time to deal with her, and the crewmen would think she was a weak ninny. “Will he be all right?” she asked thickly.
“I don't think it hit anything vital, lucky man,” Mrs. Verian said, distracted. “Can you find Miss Marlende?”
Relieved to have a reason to escape, Emilie took a quick look out the porthole to make sure the deck was still clear, then opened the hatch. The others were at the railing, looking out into the dark as the spotlight swept the water. The cool air cleared her head, and she called out, “Miss Marlende? There's a wounded man!”
“Is there? Thank you, Emilie.” Miss Marlende hurried past her through the hatch.
Emilie went to the railing to stand beside Kenar. The slight breeze smelled of gunpowder. She saw the faint flickers of light as the small skiffs fled. “They all left?” she asked hopefully.
“Something drove them off, and it wasn't us,” Kenar said, staring into the darkness. “There's another ship out there, a big one.”
“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.”