chapter SEVEN
Trapped in the sack, Emilie fought in a panic, struggling furiously, until her lungs ached from lack of air. She sagged limply and tried to breathe through the rough material.
“She's out,” one of them said, his voice muffled by the blood pounding in her ears, and the other grunted an acknowledgment.
They thought she had fainted. That...isn't a bad idea, Emilie thought. She would rather like to faint and not experience this, but as a long term solution it was impractical at best. Solution, think of a solution. They hadn't strangled her or drowned her immediately, and they seemed to be taking her somewhere in a very purposeful way. She could try to question them about where they were going, or keep pretending to be unconscious. The pretend-unconsciousness seemed to offer the best chance of escape; if they put her down to rest, she might be able to wriggle away before they noticed. She admitted that that was probably not likely, but at least it gave her something to think about besides being strangled or drowned or shot.
They carried Emilie for some distance, hauling her like a sack of potatoes. She concentrated on breathing and trying to listen for any indication of where they were going. She heard water lapping and the occasional distant voices of merpeople. Sometimes the men spoke to each other: gruff instructions to turn right or left or go that way; it didn't tell her anything except that there were at least two of them. And she couldn't hear any hint that Miss Marlende was anywhere nearby. Though I bet they meant to capture her all along, Emilie realized suddenly. That's why Yesa came back and asked for us to come with the others to speak to the Queen. Someone had perhaps passed along a description of Miss Marlende, but what was obvious to another Menaen wasn't obvious to Yesa, and she had asked for both of them as the only two women in view.
Sometimes they walked outside and sometimes through buildings; she could tell by the light working its way through the sackcloth and the feel of the sun on her legs. It seemed to take a long time, but the sack was hot and her arms ached from where the men had grabbed her, and she suspected discomfort was making the trip seem much longer.
Finally they went into a cool shadow that meant they were inside a building, and started to go upstairs, up a lot of stairs. Emilie tensed, her heart pounding again, knowing they must be nearly at their destination. Whatever that was. Maybe she would find herself facing Lord Ivers himself. An evil nobleman, she thought. It was just like something out of one of her favorite adventure novels. Only very real, very uncomfortable, and very frightening.
The men reached a landing and started down a corridor. Ahead she heard keys rattle and what sounded like a heavy metal door creak open. There was some shuffling around, a gruff voice said, “Don't move, or I'll blow your head off.”
Emilie caught her breath, wondering if he was talking to her. Then she was dumped on a cool stone floor. She lay like an unstrung puppet, keeping her breathing even, listening to footsteps walk away, and the metal door shutting. They hadn't deposited a second person, so Miss Marlende wasn't with her. She waited a moment, and then was glad she had; there was something else alive in the room. She could hear breathing, a scrape against the floor as something moved.
“You can get up now, I know you're awake. Though don't misunderstand me; it's very convincing.”
The voice had a thick accent Emilie thought she recognized. She dragged the sack off her head, taking a deep breath of the cool damp air. She was in a small bare stone room, light coming in from a little round window high in the wall. The only furnishing was a couple of wooden buckets, and a blanket. The door was made out of silver metal, showing streaks of rust in the damp. She sat up, twisting around to stare at the other person.
He - she - sat back in the corner, watching Emilie with a quizzical smile. It was a Cirathi.
Her face was fuller than Kenar's, though it was coated with the same tiny black scales instead of soft skin. Her dark eyes were wide-set under brows of feathery fur, her lips full. Her dark hair was braided with strings of beads, hanging down over the folds of reptilian skin at the back of her neck. She wore dark leather trousers tucked into low boots, armbands and bracelets and rings of gold metal, and a stretchy blue camisole that made it easy to see she was female. Emilie didn't know whether to be shocked or admiring; on her the skimpy clothing was somehow more obvious than on the merpeople, maybe because the Cirathi seemed so much closer to human. “Who are you?” Emilie demanded.
She smiled. “I asked you first.”
“You did not,” Emilie pointed out. “But I think I know who you are. Are you from the ship Lathi?”
“Yes.” She cocked her head, still smiling, but with a trace of skepticism. “But you would know that.”
“If I was one of Lord Ivers' crew?” Emilie saw the difficulty: the woman thought she was a spy. “But does Lord Ivers know Kenar, and how he and Jerom went into the aether-current to bring help for Dr. Marlende's airship?” Of course, if the Cirathi woman was a spy, Emilie was giving the game away, but she thought that was so unlikely as to be worth the risk.
The woman eyed her sharply, all the teasing forgotten. “You know of Kenar?”
“Yes. Do you know Rani? She's his...friend.” Emilie wasn't quite sure what to call their relationship and didn't want to make a hideous social gaffe.
“I am Rani.” She sat bolt upright, new delighted energy in her face, her voice. “Kenar brought you here? He's alive?”
“Yes, he is! He's here in the city, with Lord Engal, who brought us here in his ship, with Miss Marlende, Dr. Marlende's daughter. But then they caught us - Lord Ivers' men, Miss Marlende and I - so I don't know if the others are still free or not.” It sounded very confusing put that way, but the Cirathi woman seemed to be following it. “I'm Emilie.”
“I am very happy to see you, Emilie.” Rani pushed to her feet, reaching to give Emilie a hand. Emilie took it, finding the blunt claws and the calloused palm of Rani's hand a strange contrast with the softness of the fur on her knuckles. Rani pulled Emilie to her feet, so energetically that Emilie bounced. “I haven't been able to reach that window by myself, but if you stand on my shoulders I think you might.”
“Yes, I think so,” Emilie said, and sat down to quickly take off her boots and stockings. Facing the wall with the window, Rani crouched down and Emilie clambered onto her shoulders, being familiar with this process from rampaging around the village with the neighboring children.
Rani straightened up slowly, and Emilie held her clawed hands to help her balance as she put first one foot, and then the other, on Rani's strong shoulders. Emilie pushed herself upright, let go of Rani's hands to lean against the wall and guide herself the rest of the way up. They did it as smoothly as a pair of acrobats at a fete, and Emilie was rather proud of them. She gripped the smooth edge of the window to steady herself, though there wasn't much purchase. By stretching and craning her neck, she could just see out.
The view was of a huge open court surrounded by sizable buildings. Floating in it was the curve of a large dull gray-white object, almost filling the big space. There was some sort of netting over it, perhaps to hold it down... “It's an airship!” Emilie said, startled. “Is it Dr. Marlende's?”
“No, that one isn't here. At least I hope not. That belongs to our meddlesome Lord Ivers.” Rani lifted her a little higher. “Can you see anything else?”
“No, it's a bad angle.” Emilie peered down at her. She thought Rani was quite strong, as strong as a real acrobat. “Can I stand on your hands?”
Emilie almost fell once, but after a moment they managed it, and Rani was able to lift her so Emilie's head was level with the top of the window.
Now she could see the rest of the airship, and more of the court. They were about four stories up. The balloon wasn't round, as she had been half-expecting, but long and bullet-shaped, coming to nearly a point in the front, stretched over a rigid framework. Below the huge swell of it and running nearly half the length, there was a long cabin with curving wooden walls and big round windows. It looked large enough to have at least two decks, which surprised Emilie. She had thought it would be smaller, more like the hot air balloons that sometimes came to holiday fairs. The buildings lining the court had the open galleries that were usual for the city, but she didn't see any sign of life on them. And the walls and pillars looked dingy compared to the buildings around the palace, as if these structures weren't much occupied or cared for. She said, “These buildings look empty. I wonder how many merpeople know Lord Ivers is here. Is Dr. Marlende's airship that large?”
A little breathless, Rani said, “Less sight-seeing, more cogent information.”
“Sorry!” Emilie reached through the window and grabbed the outer edge, chinning herself on it. Now she could see the platform dock just below the airship's cabin. The airship itself was floating over the water filling the court, but it was tethered to the stone pillars of the lowest level with thick cables. A gangplank had been stretched over the water, between the open cabin hatch and the dock. She saw three men dressed in dark blue uniforms carrying supplies aboard, small metal casks, boxes. “They're loading it. They might be getting ready to leave. I don't see anyone who might be Lord Ivers.”
“Oof, all right, come down.” Rani lowered her part way, until Emilie could jump down.
They faced each other. “What happened?” Emilie asked. “We found the island where you were supposed to be, and your ship.”
“These people, the same sort of sea people who live in this city, arrived one night, slipped past our watchmen, and captured us. Then they threatened us, and forced Marlende and his men to surrender.” Rani made an elegant gesture. “It was not our finest moment as a crew of intrepid explorers.”
“Were these the nomads? The Queen of the merpeople told us you and Dr. Marlende's crew had been captured by nomads,” Emilie said, and had a moment to wonder at what an odd turn her life had taken that it made sense for her to say something like that.
“Yes, they took the airship, and accused Marlende of being in league with this Queen to destroy them. He was trying to persuade them otherwise, but without much luck. We still hoped help would come to the island, so on the third night of our journey, the others contrived a distraction, and I slipped over the side of the nomads' ship. Then I returned to the island, hoping Kenar and Jerom would show up soon.”
Emilie nodded. “How did you get back? Did you steal a boat?”
Rani said, “I swam, from island to island.” Emilie stared, and Rani added, “I didn't say it was easy.” She continued, “But I had only been there a day or so, when another airship arrived.”
Emilie suddenly saw what had happened in disheartening detail. “Oh. Lord Ivers. But you thought it was us.”
“Yes, another of those not-finest-moments,” Rani said, her voice dry. “Marlende had not made clear that he had enemies who would follow him here.”
“I don't think he knew. Miss Marlende knew he had rivals, but I think it was a surprise to everyone just how...” Emilie waved her hands. “…Big a rivalry it was. Lord Ivers' men boarded our ship and shot at us while we were leaving the port, but I don't think Lord Engal knew that Lord Ivers had already come down here.”
“I see.” Frustrated, Rani turned to pace the cell, like a big cat in a cage. She tugged on the door handle, apparently just to see if their captors had forgotten to lock it, but it didn't budge. “Now which one is Lord Engal?”
“He's the one Miss Marlende asked to come down here to help her father. Well, not asked, but bribed him with her father's work. He's here with his ship, but he and the others don't know Lord Ivers is here too. The Queen told them the nomads had captured you, but she didn't say anything about the rest. Do you know what Lord Ivers is planning?”
“He has not been forthcoming on that point,” Rani said with considerable irony. “But I think it is the Queen who has the plan. The nomads were convinced she meant to destroy them with the help of some foreign weapon.”
“Lord Ivers' airship,” Emilie said, feeling a sinking sensation. But Lord Ivers shouldn't want to get into a war, particularly a war in the Hollow World. He was an explorer, a scientist like Lord Engal, if more violent and ruthless. If he helped the Queen fight the nomads, he would just waste time... Oh, that has to be it, she realised. “It was a trade!”
Rani stopped, startled. “What was a trade?”
“Lord Ivers wants to get back home before Dr. Marlende and Lord Engal, so he can take the credit for the discovery. He must have got mixed up with the Queen somehow, and promised her he would help her fight the nomads. Somehow the nomads learned about it, maybe they have spies in the city, and that's why they went after Dr. Marlende's airship. But Lord Ivers doesn't want to keep his promise, so he's gotten the Queen to get Lord Engal to take his place.” Emilie turned to look up at the window, frowning. “I bet they are leaving. They're getting ready to go back up the aether-current to home.”
Rani stared, appalled. “That is what this is all about? Who claims credit?”
“Yes.” Emilie admitted, “It's stupid.”
“That is one word for it.” Rani shook her head, her beaded braids flying. “I don't want my crew mixed up in a war. No good can come of it.”
She was right about that. “Lord Engal will know something is wrong. He'll want to know what happened to Miss Marlende and me.”
“The Queen can hold you hostage, force him to do as she says.” Rani looked down at Emilie, her brow furrowed in consternation. “Would he do that?”
“I think he might.” Emilie looked up at the round window again. It looked small from this angle, but when she had pulled herself up into it, it had been an inch or so wider than her shoulders. “I can climb out that window.”
“What?” Rani looked from Emilie to the window. “And then what, fly?”
“I can climb down. Then I could warn Lord Engal.” Emilie felt the need to swallow in a suddenly very dry throat. This was much higher than the balcony over the water garden. But she had to be the one to do it. Rani, who was at least as big and strong as Kenar, would never fit through the narrow space, let alone the fact that Emilie could never lift her high enough to reach it. “I saw on the opposite wall, there's an open gallery on the level just below this one. If this side matches it-”
“That's a lot to place on an 'if.'“ Rani eyed her worriedly. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Emilie made her voice firm. Rani lifted a skeptical brow and Emilie amended, “Mostly. We've got to try something.”
“That we do.” Rani looked at the window and winced. “But I hate to throw you out a window on such short acquaintance.” She crouched down for Emilie to climb on her back again.
It wasn't any easier than it looked. Once Emilie got up to the window, she made sure there was still no sign of anyone on the galleries opposite, and that the men below, loading supplies onto the airship, didn't seem inclined to look up. Then she pulled herself halfway through the little opening, with Rani hanging onto her ankles to keep her from falling. That way, Emilie was able to lean out and look straight down the wall.
Dangling, the cool breeze in her hair, she could see the low balustrade of a gallery on the floor just below this one. The wall was rough and ridged, but instead of water below, there was a stone platform with a pretty shell pattern, extending out from the lowest level. So if Emilie fell, there would be no chance of survival. Or not pleasant survival, anyway. “All right, I think I can do this,” Emilie muttered.
“Be certain,” Rani said from below.
“I'm certain.” Emilie gritted her teeth. I am certain, she told herself. I can do this. She edged around until she was braced across the windowsill on her back. Gripping the ridge just above the opening, she wriggled forward out over empty space.
The moment when Rani had to let go of her ankles was not an easy one, and Emilie had to take a deep breath. She hadn't known how reassuring the feeling of having someone very strong hold onto you was until it had suddenly gone. Rani whispered, “Careful, little one. Go straight to your Lord Engal.”
“I will.” Emilie eased one leg out, straddling the window and finding purchase on the ridge below it, then did the same with the other leg. Still gripping the window opening, she took one glance down to make sure Lord Ivers' men hadn't looked up. It made her dizzy, and she decided that all the dramatic adventure stories she had read were right: it was better not to look down.
Feeling for hand and toe-holds in the ridges, she started to climb down. It went well enough, until her right foot reached for a toe-hold in empty space. Her stomach lurched, her head swam, and she nearly lost her grip. Deep breaths, deep breaths, Emilie chanted to herself, fighting down the fear. She lifted her foot again, found purchase, and started to edge sideways. After about a foot, she gingerly tried again. Still nothing. Keep going, she thought.
On the fourth try she found purchase, the rough surface of a column. A little fumbling and her foot found a decorative finial on it. Carefully, she eased herself down, one ridge at a time.
Finally she could wrap her legs around the column and edge down it, until she could swing over onto the gallery floor. As soon as her feet touched the firm stone surface, her legs gave out and she sank down into a huddle. Shaking in relief, she realized: If I'd known it was going to be that hard, I'd never have tried. Her hands and feet were scraped, her fingers sore, her arms trembling from the effort. So it was a good thing I didn't know, she thought. She couldn't believe she had actually done it. The idea of getting caught after that effort was horrific.
If you can do that, a voice in her head whispered, you can do anything. Anything she had to do to get herself and Rani and Miss Marlende out of here. Huddled trembling on the stone, she suddenly felt a hundred times stronger.
Now get on with it, Emilie told herself, and eased forward to take a careful peek between the balusters. The men had stopped loading the airship, and were standing on the platform, talking to a man dressed in ordinary clothes rather than a uniform. He was in his shirtsleeves, no coat. Lord Ivers, maybe, or someone else of high rank in the crew. He was tall and slim, with the blond hair and light skin of someone of Northern Menaen descent. That would be a good clue, if she had ever heard a description or seen a photograph of Lord Ivers, which she hadn't. She couldn't hear what they were saying either, just snatches of words carried on the breeze.
She crawled back from the edge and stood, padding barefoot toward the nearest door, the tiles cool under her feet. It was an open arch, leading in to a big empty room with a blue and green mosaic floor. It had a lonely air of long disuse, and there was even a patch of mold on one wall. She slipped through it and two other similar empty chambers, and found an open door out to a corridor. It was empty and shadowy too, no lamps in the niches, the figures of merpeople painted on the walls faded and blotched. She couldn't hear any voices or movement. As Emilie stepped out into it, she spotted a large curving stair at the end.
She knew what she should do; she should run immediately back toward the harbor and swim out to the Sovereign. The problem was, she had no idea where she was or how to get to the harbor from here. She didn't know the language or have a translator shell to ask for directions, and she had no way to tell which merpeople were involved in the plot or which were innocent bystanders, so she couldn't risk approaching anyone for help. And if she did somehow make it to the Sovereign, the Queen could still hold Miss Marlende and Rani hostage against Lord Engal's cooperation. If he and Kenar aren't hostages now, too, to force Captain Belden to attack the nomads, she thought.
The obvious conclusion was to rescue Miss Marlende and Rani before proceeding. Rani first, since Emilie knew where she was.
Emilie started toward the stairs. Just as she reached the stairwell, she heard voices echoing up from below, and she froze like a startled rabbit. It was Miss Marlende, and a male voice with a Menaen accent, that she didn't recognize.
Miss Marlende was saying, “I think you must be mad.”
The man laughed, not sounding offended. “No more mad than your father or Engal.”
Lord Ivers, Emilie thought. Funny, he didn't sound evil.
Fury in her voice, Miss Marlende said, “My father and Lord Engal aren't causing a war simply for their own gain!”
“I'm not causing this war, young lady. The Queen would still be fighting the nomads even if none of us had found our way down to this world. She's considerably more cunning and more determined than she looks, believe me.” With a laugh, he added, “Those were her men who attacked the Sovereign during the last eclipse, not the nomads. Didn't you think the arrival of Yesa and her warship was excessively fortuitous?”
Miss Marlende said, startled, “She didn't-” After a moment, sounding more thoughtful, she said, “Of course, I see.”
Emilie shook her head, but it did make sense. She remembered what Miss Marlende had said about the size and age of the city, as a relic of a disintegrating empire, and what the rulers of such a place must be like. Miss Marlende must have remembered it too. Sounding less certain, she said, “Why is she so determined to fight the nomads, then?”
“Because they are the future,” Lord Ivers said, as if he was giving a lecture. “If what she and the others have told me is true, the Sealands have been changing for generations. The weather has grown warmer, and it's affecting the water depth, the way the fish run, how the plants grow, the way the islands form. These shallow seas can no longer sustain cities this size, the way they could in the Empire's golden age. Now the fishers and gleaners and growers have to go further and further afield to bring in enough food for the rest of the population.” Lord Ivers' voice warmed with his enthusiasm for the subject, and Emilie leaned on the stone banister, listening intently. The footsteps she could hear sounded as if they were made by more than two people, so Lord Ivers must have one or more of his men with him. “The nomads' ancestors saw the writing on the wall a long time ago, and changed their way of living and their way of governing themselves. They left the cities, broke up into smaller groups, and now travel to different fishing and farming grounds throughout the year, giving the sea and the land time to replenish itself. They've succeeded marvelously. So marvelously, the outlying farmers and fishers of this city, the greatest and possibly last outpost of the old Empire, often desert their posts to join them.”
Ah, Emilie thought. The merpeople aren't being stolen away. They're deserting to the other side. No wonder the Queen was angry.
Miss Marlende must have come to the same conclusion. In a different tone, she said, “I see.”
“Of course you do. There's nothing I could do to stop this,” Lord Ivers concluded. “There's no place for the Queen or her nobles or their way of life in this new style of living. If the Queen was a forward thinker, she would form her people into their own tribes of nomads and send them off to look for new fishing grounds. She isn't, and she won't. She's determined to preserve her control over this dying city for the rest of her generation.”
“But you're using her for your own purposes-” Miss Marlende protested loudly. Then Emilie realized her voice wasn't getting louder, it was getting closer - Lord Ivers and Miss Marlende were coming up the stairs to this floor.
Oh, hell. Emilie bolted up the stairs, trying to keep her steps quiet. She reached the upper floor, where the stairwell foyer had two arched doorways opening into corridors, one to the left and one to the right. The room Emilie and Rani had been locked into should be on the right, facing out into the court. And Emilie didn't think it would be unguarded. Mindful that Lord Ivers would be here in a moment, she stepped silently to the righthand archway and took a cautious peek.
The hall was lined with doorways, all with heavy metal doors, and midway down it there was a man in a blue uniform, sitting on a camp stool. The door nearest him had a big padlock through the metal handles. Emilie drew back, thinking: damn, I was afraid of that. She had no idea how she was going to get Rani out of there.
Movement and voices moving up the stairs made her dart across the foyer and through the archway on the left. Fortunately, that corridor was empty, leading out to a long room of open galleries. She crouched behind a pillar, trying to make herself small, and hoped they went the other way.
She heard them reach the landing and turn down the righthand corridor. There was a scrape and shuffle as the guard got hastily to his feet and greeted Lord Ivers respectfully. Then Lord Ivers said, “Open the door, Cavin.”
Uh oh, Emilie thought. She heard the jingle of keys, clicks as the man fumbled with the padlock, then the door creaking open. Rani said, “Finally. I was wondering if you had planned to settle here permanently, perhaps take up reed farming or some other useful occupation.”
There was a moment of fraught silence, then Lord Ivers demanded, “Where is the girl?”
“What girl?” Rani said, sounding completely unperturbed. Emilie wondered where Rani had hidden her boots and the sack, the only evidence that she had really been in the cell.
Lord Ivers must have looked at Cavin for confirmation, because the man said, a little desperately, “Semeuls, Rail, and I put her in there, My Lord. They can vouch for it.”
Rani said, complacently, “He is lying. You should hire better henchmen.”
“Perhaps you're right.” Lord Ivers' voice was tight with fury. “Let's go.”
More footsteps. Emilie risked a peek around the pillar and caught a glimpse of Miss Marlende, Rani, Lord Ivers, and three uniformed men with rifles, two of whom must have come up the stairs with Lord Ivers and one the unfortunate Cavin.
“And where are we going?” Miss Marlende asked.
“Back to the surface.” Lord Ivers' voice sounded more distant as he started down the stairs. “I've persuaded the Queen to accept Lord Engal's help instead of mine, and I have no reason now to linger.”
“Ah, you will be dropping me off on the way, then?” Rani said, still sounding as calm as if she was having this conversation at a garden party, or the Cirathi equivalent.
“No, you'll be coming with me,” Lord Ivers said. “You'll provide incontrovertible evidence of my achievement.”
Emilie gasped in outrage. Rani's reply was drowned out by Miss Marlende's angry protests as the group continued down the stairs. I can't let them get on the airship, she thought. Emilie stood and ran to the archway, then to the top of the stairs. The group was about two floors down. She needed a weapon. She didn't even have anything to throw.
She went to the archway to the other corridor and looked down it just to see if there was anything helpful left behind. The metal camp stool still sat beside the wall. It was better than nothing. Emilie hurriedly retrieved it, then started down the stairs, her bare feet noiseless on the smooth steps.
She reached the third floor landing, and looked over the open banister to see Lord Ivers and the others on the second, just turning down the stairs. The bottom level of the structure was an open area two floors high, with no floor, just narrow walkways level with the water and big pillars supporting the upper structure. One more stairway down and they would be out on the platform next to the airship, with the rest of Lord Ivers' men. Miss Marlende was still protesting loudly with occasional profanities, and one of the men had her arm, dragging her along. Rani's shoulders looked tense, and the other two guards watched her warily.
Emilie went to the top of the stairs, aimed at the man on Rani's right, and slung the camp stool at the back of his head. “Rani! Run!” she yelled.
The stool hit the man right between the shoulders and sent him jolting forward to tumble down the last set of stairs. It was poor Cavin, Emilie noted. Lord Ivers was knocked into the banister, and Miss Marlende shoved against the man who held her, knocking him off balance. Rani moved like lightning. She grabbed the rifle of the man on her left, slammed the barrel into his face, twisted it away and vaulted the railing to land with a splash in the water below.
Struggling with her guard, Miss Marlende yelled frantically, “Run, Emilie, run!” and Emilie realized she really should be running. Lord Ivers turned toward her and Miss Marlende's guard tried to get his arms free to shoot at her. She turned and bolted back along the corridor, hoping there was another way down. It's a big building, she told herself, panting more from fear than exertion, surely there's more than one stair!
There wasn't, at least not off this corridor. The guards shouted behind her and a bullet rang off the stone wall. Emilie yelped and ducked into the room at the far end, praying that there would be a window. There was - a big one, which looked out over an open waterway at the far end of the building. She scrambled up onto the sill, glanced back to see a guard just behind her, and as he lunged for her she jumped.
By pure luck she missed the stone dock platform and plunged into the water. She floundered to the surface, coughing and gasping, heard someone yelling about shooting at her, and flailed away, swimming frantically.
She managed to get headed down the waterway, away from the window, but another gunshot rang out behind her. Then something grabbed her ankle and jerked her under water.
Emilie struggled wildly, until she realized whatever had a hold of her was both furry and scaly. It had to be Rani. She hoped very hard that it was Rani. They passed through a dark section of water and she thought they were going under a solid object. Right at the point where Emilie thought her lungs would burst, they surfaced abruptly.
Emilie coughed and spat out water as Rani pulled her up onto wet stone. Emilie sputtered and managed to get a full breath. “You all right?” Rani asked.
Emilie nodded weakly. They were inside a building, perhaps next door to the one the airship was docked in. The ceiling was low and arched, cracked and stained with mold. There was more floor space between the pools of water.
“I had to stuff your boots and the sack they brought you in into the slop bucket,” Rani said. “Sorry. I saved these.” She pulled Emilie's dripping stockings out of the front of her shirt.
“That's all right.” Emilie took the stockings, though she wasn't sure what good they would do her at the moment. “I don't think Miss Marlende got away.” She coughed again.
“No, but she was very helpful, your friend. I would not have gotten away without her. And you,” Rani added, giving Emilie a friendly nudge to the shoulder that almost pushed her over. “You are one brave little person.”
“Thank you.” Emilie was too worried to be flustered by the compliment. “We have to rescue Miss Marlende.”
“That we do.” Rani got to her feet, giving Emilie a hand up. “This way.”
They made their way through the long building. It was quiet except for the water lapping in the pools, and Emilie saw cracks in the pillars and more splotches of mold; it had clearly been abandoned for some time. She wondered how many empty structures there were in this section of the city. Probably many, since the Queen had chosen this area to dock Lord Ivers' airship. This city was not as prosperous as it had looked at first, more evidence that what Lord Ivers had said was the truth.
They came to a doorway on the far end, opening out to a narrow canal, with steps and platforms for merpeople to enter the water. It was lined with three- and four-story buildings, with large windows and balcony platforms. There was no sign of life or movement. Rani turned back toward the airship building, and Emilie kept close to the wall. Being shot at was not an experience she wanted to repeat. We need to steal a gun, she thought. The rifle Rani had jerked out of the guard's hands had fallen into the water, and Emilie wondered if they could retrieve it, if it would still work. She rather thought it wouldn't.
They reached a doorway leading into the airship building, and Rani stopped abruptly, holding up a hand. Emilie froze, and realized she could hear a low metallic buzz. “You hear that?” Rani whispered, then she said something in Cirathi that was probably a very bad word, adding: “The engine!”
Rani ducked through the doorway and Emilie hurried after her. They went through a wide shadowy passage with a shallow stream of water running down the center, toward an archway that opened into daylight. That must be the courtyard, she thought. Emilie's heart was pounding. If they had already started the airship's engine...
Rani stopped at the edge of the archway, taking a cautious peek through it. She cursed again and said, “We are too late, Emilie.”
Emilie looked, in time to see the cabin of the airship clearing the top floor of the building, the enormous balloon throwing a huge shadow over the water court. Damn it, no! Desperate for it not to be true, she said, “Maybe they left her behind.”
Rani ruffled Emilie's hair sympathetically, but said, “We'll search.”
Cautiously, they looked through the lower floor, then worked their way back up, all the way to the cell level. There was no sign of Miss Marlende, but they could see the place had been occupied. In one room they found fruit rinds and crumbs, and bits of food trash that had clearly come from Menea: a couple of brown bottles that had probably held beer, and a wrapper for a cracker packet. There were some bits of crumpled paper and a blue uniform cap someone had dropped.
Emilie rescued her boots from the slop bucket in their cell, and admitted bleakly, “They didn't leave her behind.”
Rani turned back toward the stairs, asking, “Do you know what they will do with her?”
“I don't know.” Emilie hadn't thought Lord Ivers had seemed like the type to murder people, until his men started shooting at her. “If he just takes her back to the surface, to Menea... If he doesn't hurt her, when Lord Engal gets back he can tell the magistrates what happened. They'll arrest Lord Ivers if he doesn't let her go.” Lord Engal must have just as much influence as Lord Ivers, and the magistrates would have to believe him and take action. If Lord Engal can get back to Menea, she thought. If we can all get back. “What do we do now? Try to get to the harbor and find Lord Engal and the others?” If he wasn't a hostage too.
“Yes, I think it must be your Lord Engal, for now,” Rani said, thinking it over. “If he has no solutions, we'll have to think of one for ourselves. And I wish to retrieve Kenar as soon as possible.” She paused on the landing to confide to Emilie, “Men are not good left on their own, you know. They pine.”
Emilie had never heard that before and the thought kept her occupied all the way down the stairs.
Getting to the harbor was just as difficult as Emilie had suspected it might be, even with Rani's help.
Rani knew what direction they had to go in, but when they came to the edge of the empty area, there were too many merpeople between them and the waters of the harbor. Merpeople swimming in the waterways, towing little rafts piled with bundled goods, merpeople walking along the bridges and the galleries. The light was starting to get that edged quality that meant the Dark Wanderer was bringing the night eclipse, and Emilie thought this might be the rush to get home before dark, or to get the last things done for the end of the working day.
She was glad she had decided to try to rescue Rani and Miss Marlende, and hadn't fled alone toward the harbor for help; not only would Lord Ivers have been able to leave with both of them in his airship, but Emilie would have become hopelessly lost and recaptured by the merpeople.
Rani left Emilie to hide in an enclosed passage in the last empty building, and made several forays to check on different possible routes. Emilie sat on the cool smooth floor, washed her boots off in a little pool, and worried. Her stomach was also starting to growl; it had been a long time since breakfast. She had also had time to feel her bruises from being manhandled into the sack; her arms looked like she had put them into a vice.
Rani returned finally, surfacing in the pool suddenly and giving Emilie a start. “It's not good news,” Rani reported, and slung herself out of the water to sit on the platform. “The harbor area must be the most crowded part of the city. I think we must wait until dark before we try to make it to the docks.”
“That's not long, though, is it?” Emilie asked, trying not to sound as weary and anxious as she actually was. “Maybe another hour?”
“Not long.” Rani absently wrung out her long braids. “Your Lord Engal's ship would not travel at night, would it?”
“Um, yes. It has spotlights. We've been traveling at night all along, because we wanted to find Dr. Marlende and you all as quickly as possible.” Emilie bit her lip. “You think the Queen might have made them leave already?”
“Ah.” Rani frowned, preoccupied, but she said reassuringly, “We'll see. Perhaps we'll be lucky.”
Emilie thought Rani was probably an optimist.
About an hour later, the complete darkness of the eclipse settled in, and they crept out of hiding. Lamps, burning oil that smelled vaguely fishy, had been lit along some of the waterways and bridges, but most of the byways were dark. Rani moved silently over the walkways, giving wide berth to the lighted areas, leading them toward the docks.
Emilie was relieved to be moving. The wait for darkness had worn on her nerves, though at least the anxiety had kept her awake. It had been a long time since her last good night's sleep, as well as a long time since breakfast. At one point Rani had demanded, “What is that noise? Is that you?”
“It's my stomach,” Emilie had replied defensively. She had noticed that Rani didn't speak Menaen as readily as Kenar; she thought that was because Kenar had been with Miss Marlende, probably talking himself hoarse to help her convince Lord Engal of what had to be done to come to Dr. Marlende's rescue, while Rani had been locked up with not much of anyone to speak with. “Doesn't your stomach grumble when you're hungry?”
“Yes, but not that loud. No one's stomach is that loud.”
Now Emilie was almost willing to believe she was right, and hoped her stomach didn't alert any merpeople swimming through the dark water below them. She had kept her boots off in case they had to swim, tying them together and looping them around her neck, and the smooth stone was cool underfoot.
They came down a narrow walkway above a deep canal, and out onto the docks, under the shelter of the lower level of the big gallery. It was quiet except for the breeze on the water, and this part of the gallery smelled of the bundles of wet reeds stacked and piled everywhere. There were more lamps lit here, illuminating the piers that ran out into the water. Rani drew Emilie forward, using the reed bundles as cover, to where they could look out over the ships.
Emilie's heart sank immediately, but she still squinted, studying the piers, the place she was sure the Sovereign had been anchored. But the Sovereign would have been the most obvious thing in the crowded harbor, with all its running lights lit. “Not there?” Rani asked quietly.
Emilie shook her head, unexpectedly and stupidly feeling tears well up. They had known this was a possibility. She swallowed hard and managed to say, “No, it's gone.”
“Hmm. Then we go with the other plan. Wait here.” Rani ghosted away down the gallery before Emilie could say, “What other plan?”
Emilie crouched on the cool stone, waiting. She heard merpeople talking somewhere nearby and flinched, but after a moment it was obvious they were on the gallery a level or two above, and walking away. She realized she was trying not to bite her nails, recalled that her aunt was not here to remonstrate with her about it, and that she could bite them as much as she liked. It was a relief to her abused nerves.
Rani finally returned with a net bag slung over her shoulder. “This way,” she whispered, and they went the other way down the gallery, away from the lighted piers. Emilie wanted to ask where they were going, but was afraid their voices might carry over the water. If one of the merpeople in the gallery heard a conversation of more than a few words, they might realize they were hearing a strange language and give the alarm.
They left the shelter of the gallery and were heading toward the far side of the harbor. It was so dark, Emilie couldn't make out much, but when she tripped over a coil of rope and stumbled on a ramp, she realized they were passing the taller piers where the big barges had been docked. Had been docked. Now that she looked, she could see the empty water glinting faintly between the dark shapes of the piers. She tapped Rani on the back, and whispered as softly as possible, “The barges are gone.”
Rani stopped, leaned back to cup her hand around Emilie's ear and say softly, “They've gone with your ship, after the nomads.”
Oh, no, Emilie thought. They must have left when the Sovereign was forced to go, sometime this afternoon. When Rani started to pull away, she caught her arm and whispered, “Where are we going?”
“After them,” Rani replied.
Oh. Startled, Emilie followed Rani through the dark. Good, she thought.