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Emilie and the Sky World

Page 25

by Martha Wells


  Miss Marlende came back in and spoke to Dr Marlende for a moment, then to the professor. They both stood and started out of the room. Miss Marlende beckoned to Emilie to follow. She hurried after them, hoping it wasn’t bad news about Lord Engal.

  She followed them into a room that must be someone’s study. The walls were lined with shelves of books and bound notebooks. There were overstuffed chairs, a big table to lay out the maps that were rolled up in various stands, and a desk piled with papers and books.

  Miss Marlende turned to Emilie and said, “Your Uncle Yeric and Efrain are here, Emilie.”

  Emilie froze for an instant. “Why? Is he going to try to make me leave with him? I won’t. I can go out over the garden wall if–”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Dr Marlende said firmly. “He didn’t seem at all unreasonable last night, but perhaps that was because a journalist managed to hang on to the back of our carriage and follow us there.”

  Professor Abindon sighed. “They are relentless. That’s one good thing about Engal; he keeps them in check without resorting to violence.”

  Miss Marlende put her hands on Emilie’s shoulders and said, “Your uncle isn’t your guardian. Even though your older brother isn’t available, I don’t see how he can legally force you to go with him.” She looked thoughtful. “Do you think your older brother, once you do contact him, would have any serious objection to you remaining here with us, in our employment?”

  Emilie thought about her conversations with Efrain, the reflection she had done on Erin’s behavior. “I would be surprised if he did,” she admitted. Erin had undoubtedly had his own reasons for leaving the way he had, though he had never mentioned them in the few letters he had written to her. But Emilie had to face the fact that it meant she would never be able to count on him. Accepting that didn’t feel nearly as bleak as she had thought it might. Mainly because she felt that now, if she needed him, she would be able to count on Efrain. And he could count on her.

  Miss Marlende nodded. “I can summon a solicitor, then. I know Lord Engal has a number of them lying in wait all over the city.”

  “First, let me just talk to the man,” Dr Marlende said. “We’ve managed to get along with beings from different aetheric planes; we should be able to settle this.”

  Dr Marlende left the study, and Miss Marlende said, “I’d better get back to the others. Just wait here, Emilie. And remember that if you don’t want to see him, you won’t have to.”

  Miss Marlende went back to the dining room, but the professor lingered a moment. She said, “I have a great deal of experience leaving people behind in anger. If you would like to talk about it later, I might be able to offer some perspective.”

  Emilie smiled up at her. “Thank you.”

  The professor nodded and went out. Emilie paced for a bit, too nervous to sit down. Then there was a tap on the door and Efrain peeked in. He saw her and walked in. “Dr Marlende said I should wait here.”

  Emilie nodded, trying not to look anxious. “How was it going?”

  Efrain told her, “I think it’ll be all right. When the airship lifted off, Uncle Yeric complained to the man who was there from the Philosophical Society, Mr Elathorn, and I think Mr Elathorn explained how important the Marlendes are and how Lord Engal is working with them and how important Lord Engal is. And then when Dr Marlende brought me back to the hotel, two journalists followed us and I guess they thought Uncle Yeric was an important person too, because Dr Marlende went to see him as soon as he got back, and I think that’s what they’re going to put in the newspaper.”

  “Uncle Yeric is going to be in the newspaper?” Emilie boggled. She wondered how the village would react. It would be almost a shame not to see it. Almost.

  “Yes, it’s going to be a big shock,” Efrain agreed.

  They were still talking about it when Dr Marlende came in and said Emilie should talk to her Uncle Yeric, that he was of the opinion it would be all right.

  Emilie walked into the downstairs parlor, her heart pounding. This had clearly been the room meant for greeting and entertaining formal guests at some point, but it was now filled with bookcases too, and some of the side tables had papers and writing materials left behind on them, as if some students had been hastily cleared out earlier.

  Uncle Yeric was standing, clearly still uncomfortable. He said, “Ah, Emilie. Efrain tells me you wish to remain here.”

  “Yes.” Emilie folded her hands and tried not to shift nervously. She could hear everyone upstairs in the dining room talking, which was somewhat reassuring.

  Apparently pretending their earlier conversation at the airship yard had never taken place, Uncle Yeric said, “I suspect your aunt will not approve.”

  “My brother Erin is my guardian–”

  “Your brother Erin left his family without a word, with only a letter inadequately explaining his actions.” Uncle Yeric controlled himself with difficulty, and said in a more even tone, “I fear what would happen if you ever found yourself in a position where you had to depend on him.”

  Emilie stared at him, struck all at once by a shocking revelation. Uncle Yeric was just as upset about Erin leaving as Efrain was, as she had been. And he had taken it out on her, just like Efrain and Emery had. Uncle Yeric and her aunt had blamed the fact that Emilie’s mother was an actress and somehow must have passed her feckless ways on to her children, causing Erin, who had been the oldest, the most favored, the child they had known best and liked best, to leave them without a glance backward. As the only girl, and the next oldest, Emilie had shouldered all the blame, a substitute for her mother and Erin. It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right, but at least she knew now. She said, slowly, “I wouldn’t want to depend on him, either. But if I have to leave the Marlendes’ employ, I can go to my cousin Karthea at Silk Harbor and help her with her school. She’s already said I can, if I want to.”

  Uncle Yeric cleared his throat. “Ah, well. Your cousin has always been a very respectable young lady, despite her insistence on going to university.” He continued. “Dr Marlende assures me you will be staying under this roof, in the company of his daughter. You must write to your aunt, to let her know what your direction is. And write to her every fortnight, to let her know how you’re getting along.”

  It seemed a small price to pay. Emilie said, “I will. I’ll write to her today.”

  Uncle Yeric took his leave from Dr Marlende, and Emilie said goodbye to Efrain in the front parlor. He told her, “Write to me too and tell me all your adventures.”

  “I will,” Emilie told him. From the stoop of the house, she watched Uncle Yeric and Efrain climb into a coach and drive away.

  She walked back to the study to sit alone in the relative quiet for a moment, feeling very strange and a little at sea. Relieved to have the whole situation with Uncle Yeric settled, and able to start her new life without worrying about him. Guilty to realize she had abandoned Efrain and Emery just as Erin had, though like her, he had probably had reasons he felt were equally compelling. But at least she was aware of it, and now she was free to visit her brothers when she wished. And she was rather looking forward to when Efrain would be able to visit her.

  Emilie realized she badly needed to write to Karthea and let her know she was all right, and to her friend Porcia Herinbogel to tell her everything that had happened. Thinking about how she would explain the whole situation to Porcia helped her sort it out more in her own mind. Emilie knew she didn’t forgive either Uncle Yeric or her aunt, but understanding their feelings did help somewhat. For one thing, it was going to make it easier to cope if they got angry with her again. Uncle Yeric wasn’t going to apologize to her, and the way he and her aunt had treated her would always hurt, even if he didn’t seem to believe what he had said anymore. If he ever had.

  She was looking around for writing paper when Miss Marlende put her head in the doorway and said, “Oh, there you are, Emilie. Lord Engal is evidently feeling better and has sent a message demanding that ever
yone come round to his townhouse and continue the meeting there. Would you like to come along?”

  “Yes, Miss, I think I would,” Emilie said, and followed her out.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Martha Wells is the author of several fantasy novels that have been published by Tor and HarperCollins, including Death of a Necromancer, which was a 1999 Nebula Nominee.

  Publishers Weekly has said of her work: “Wells continues to demonstrate an impressive gift for creating finely detailed fantasy worlds rife with many-layered intrigues and immensely personable characters.” And she has been lauded by authors such as Anne McCaffrey and Robin Hobb.

  Her books have been published in eight languages, including French, Spanish, German, Russian, and Dutch.

  www.marthawells.com

  twitter.com/marthawells1

  STRANGE CHEMISTRY

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  54-56 High Pavement,

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  www.strangechemistrybooks.com

  Strange Chemistry #26

  A Strange Chemistry paperback original 2014

  1

  Copyright © Martha Wells 2014

  Martha Wells asserts the moral right to be

  identified as the author of this work.

  A catalogue record for this book is available

  from the British Library.

  UK ISBN: 978 1 90884 451 4

  US ISBN: 978 1 90884 452 1

  Ebook ISBN: 978 1 90884 453 8

  Set in Meridien and Dirty Headline by Argh! Oxford

  Printed and bound by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon, CR0 4YY

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,

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  otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by

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  otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in

  any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is

  published and without a similar condition including this

  condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and

  incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination.

  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or

  localities is entirely coincidental.

 

 

 


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