Emilie & the Hollow World

by Martha Wells

  Kenar continued, “The island we chose turned out to be a trap. A giant creature, bigger than this ship, lived on the sea floor beneath it, feeding on the fish and birds that came within range. When Rani, Beinar, and Sanith beached their boat on the sandbar, the creature raised folds of skin out of the water, swallowing the sandbar entirely, trapping them. We couldn't reach them, and we knew if we didn't, they would be eaten alive. But Dr. Marlende had seen our ship and been heading toward us already, meaning to try to speak to us. He saw what had happened and took his airship down low over the island, and fired weapons at the creature. When that didn't work, some of his men let themselves down with ropes and hacked at it with axes and burned it with fire. Finally it opened, and he dropped a ladder, and Rani and the others were able to escape with only minor injuries.” He let out his breath, as if putting aside the frightening memory, and smiled down at Emilie. “We sailed together for a while, learning about each other, helping each other as we explored this territory. When his engine became damaged later, we felt it was our chance to repay the favor he had done us. And we're explorers. I couldn't let the opportunity to travel to the legendary outer world pass by.” He gave her a thoughtful look. “You didn't explain why you left your home.”

  “Didn't I? Oh.” Emilie realized uneasily that she had been asking him a lot of questions, and that he had perhaps noticed that she had been avoiding his inquiries. “I left home because when my mother was only two years older than me, she left home.” Kenar frowned, not understanding. Emilie added, “She became an actress. She could have come to a bad end.” Kenar still didn't appear to understand. “It was very shocking,” she said. “Some people think actresses are, you know...” He probably didn't know, and she found herself extremely reluctant to tell him that some people thought actresses were whores. She was afraid he would ask her what a whore was. Kenar, after all, had learned Menaen from Dr. Marlende, and there were probably a lot of words that just hadn't ever come up in conversation. “That they're almost like criminals.”

  “I'll take your word for it,” he assured her gravely. “I still don't see what this has to do with you.”

  “Because I'm her daughter, my uncle and aunt always felt that I'd do the same. Only perhaps I wouldn't be lucky, and meet a man like my father, who would marry me anyway.” Emilie tried to sound matter-of-fact, though it wasn't easy, and she could hear the anger that made her throat tight creep into her voice. She had been told over and over again, for what seemed like years on end, that she was destined to come to a bad end, even before she had had any idea what a bad end was. But deep down, she hadn't really thought that they believed it. Especially when she knew she wasn't really the sort of person inclined to bad ends.

  Emilie liked to read, liked to take off her shoes and stockings and wade in the creek, to explore the fields and copses around the village farms. She had only been interested in the local boys while they were all young enough to play at being pirates and highway robbers together; as she had gotten older, it was only the adventurous heroes in books who had caught her attention. She was certain she was the least likely girl in the village to come to a bad end.

  But you still could have, she thought. You could have gotten yourself murdered in an alley, crossing through Meneport, no matter how careful you thought you were being. Uncle Yeric's prophecy might have become a self-fulfilling one on Emilie's part.

  “Do you want to become an actress?” Kenar said, still puzzled by the whole situation.

  “No. It sounds rather difficult, and I can't sing well, and I'm not a good dancer.” She tightened her hands on the railing. She had never had any specific ambition, except that she had wanted to travel, wanted to visit places that were just names in books in the lending library or on the maps in the village school's atlas. But that took money, and she had none of her own; she had known she needed a more realistic goal, if she didn't want to be stuck as her aunt's companion for the next twenty years. “I didn't really know what I wanted to do. But my friend Porcia Herinbogel was going off to school, to Shipands Academy.” It was a real school, that taught things like mathematics, history, languages, agriculture, and even mechanics, and it was admitting young ladies for the first time. Porcia had been mad to go; she hadn't inherited her father's magical talent, but she was terribly clever, and wanted to take the courses necessary to be considered for a medical academy in Meneport that allowed women students. Emilie was certain that her uncle would not agree to pay for anything like that, but it had given her an idea. “I asked my aunt and uncle if I could go to my cousin Karthea's school, in Silk Harbor. She's my father's sister's daughter, and that side of the family isn't as...as my mother's side. I thought I could help with the work, look after the younger girls, maybe, while she took the classes. It's a lot of work, running a school, Karthea talks about it in her letters. I know she needs help.” She and Porcia had talked it all over, and her father had offered to bring Emilie along when he took Porcia to Shipands. They would be going through Silk Harbor anyway and could drop Emilie off on their way. It had seemed a modest goal and a perfectly respectable occupation. It had not seemed like much to ask.

  Kenar still looked as if he wasn't certain he understood. “You ran away because your uncle and aunt forbade you to go?”

  “Yes, partly. It was the way they did it.” Porcia, Mr. Herinbogel, and two of her aunt's friends, Mrs. Rymple and Mrs. Fennan, had been invited for tea, and Emilie had chosen that moment to broach the subject. But Uncle Yeric had refused to listen and forbade her to even mention it again. Emilie had lost her temper and shouted. The argument had escalated to the point where her aunt had burst into angry tears and her uncle had accused her of using the school as a ruse to get out from under their watchful eye, where she could become a whore like her mother.

  The memory of being shocked senseless with humiliation, sitting on the couch in the familiar parlor while the embarrassed visitors hastily took their leave, still made her cheeks burn. It had gotten worse once they were alone. That was when her uncle had added that he thought she meant to use the trip as a ruse to fix her interest with Mr. Herinbogel, a widower old enough to be Emilie's father.

  Thinking about it still filled her with fury, made her pulse pound. She had known then that whatever she did, she would never see her aunt and uncle again, not if she had to run to the ends of the earth. And she really didn't want to tell any of this to Kenar. It was hard enough thinking about it, but she had to finish the story. “They thought I was lying about helping with the school. They thought I wanted to use it as an excuse to get away from home. They said if I persisted, they would send me away to a place to be locked up.” She wasn't certain if Uncle Yeric had meant an asylum, or a prison. She had known that if he told the magistrates that she was a disobedient girl who wanted to run off and become a whore, they would believe him and not her.

  Kenar shook his head slowly. Emilie thought he was rather appalled, even at this mild version of the story. “Your mother is not here to...shield you from the rest of her family?”

  “No. She and my father died, when I was very young. My oldest brother hasn't come home since he ran away to join the merchant navy, and my other two brothers like my uncle and agree to whatever he says.” They had agreed about her, too. She supposed she should have expected it, but it had been just one more shameful blow on top of all the others. She had been close to them once, but when they had been sent off to boarding school, and no longer saw her every day, it was as if the real her had been replaced in their minds by her uncle's version of her. And when their older brother had run away, it had perhaps been worse for them than Emilie. He had confided in Emilie more, so she had been more prepared when he left, though it had still hurt her. To them it had been a bigger shock, and maybe they had turned to her uncle for reassurance, and it made them more susceptible to being swayed by his opinions. It had occurred to her later that she might have been more helpful to them at the time, but she had been so upset and so resentful herself that she hadn't b
een thinking about anyone else's feelings.

  Kenar said, “I see. You could not join your older brother?”

  “No. He's on a ship, now.” She added, in case Kenar didn't realize, “They don't let women join the navy in Menea.”

  “That seems an odd thing to forbid. You would make a good sailor.”

  “Thank you.” Emilie felt a huge relief at leaving the subject. She took a deep breath, and felt the breeze cool her flushed face. “If I was a Cirathi, I could be a sailor?”

  “Of course. My partner, Rani, is captain of our ship.”

  Emilie lifted her brows, intrigued. “Really?” She wanted to ask more, but Oswin came to tell Kenar that Lord Engal wanted to speak to him, and he went up to the wheelhouse. She stood on the deck for a long time after that, though, thinking about being the captain of a ship, and mentally rewriting the Lord Rohiro novels with someone like Miss Marlende as the main character.

  It was late in the day when the ship's alarm sounded and someone shouted, “There it is!”

  Emilie ran out to the rail, where Miss Marlende, Kenar, Lord Engal, and some of the crew were gathered. They were approaching a sizable island, ringed by cliffs like the others. At the base, anchored next to a narrow stretch of beach, was a large wooden sailing ship. It had three masts, with faded purple sails furled around the lower spars. Cabins with round windows were built all along the main deck, and they were painted various bright colors, now faded by sun and weather. Flowering vines were painted below the railings on the hull. “It's such a lovely ship,” Emilie said, before she realized what was wrong, why everyone was so silent.

  The sailing ship's deck was empty. There was no sign of life aboard, no one coming out to investigate the chugging sound that signaled the Sovereign's approach. Emilie looked at Kenar, stricken.

  His expression was closed, opaque. But she felt it was hiding a good deal of fear.

  Miss Marlende said, “Perhaps they had to retreat into the interior of the island for some reason.” Emilie looked at the cliffs above the beach, but there was no sign of life or movement there, either.

  Miss Marlende lifted the spyglass, studying the trees. “Perhaps they're at the airship, with-”

  “We should be able to see your father's airship from here,” Kenar interrupted, an edge to his voice. “It's gone.”

  She turned to stare at him, startled. “Are you certain?”

  At her expression, he shook his head, avoiding her eyes. “Maybe they had to move it.”

  Lord Engal looked from one to the other, frowning. Emilie thought he might say something to make it worse, but instead he just said briskly, “Now then, you can't expect them all to be standing out here waiting for us. They've probably been quite busy in our absence.” He turned to Oswin. “Make ready to lower the launch. We'll soon get to the bottom of this.”

  Kenar and Miss Marlende boarded the launch with Lord Engal, Oswin, and six armed crewmen. Emilie slid into a seat next to Miss Marlende, and no one objected.

  Emilie had managed to add herself to the landing party simply by staying close to Miss Marlende and Kenar, who were too distracted to notice her. If they had noticed her, each probably assumed the other had asked her to come along. She was sure Lord Engal, Oswin, and the other sailors noticed her, but they must have assumed that Miss Marlende had given her permission. Emilie thought Lord Engal must be making sure to be more polite to Miss Marlende, after their earlier disagreements, and the fact that...

  That they might find her father, his crew, and all of Kenar's crew dead on the island somewhere.

  The launch puttered across to the island, its engine sounding very loud in the silence of calm wind and water. The strip of beach was narrow, the rocky bluff above it draped with flowering vines. Two crewmen climbed out to help push the boat up onto the beach, and they all clambered out, splashing in the shallow water. Leaving a crewman to watch the boat, they approached the Cirathi ship cautiously.

  Kenar went first, the others following, Emilie bringing up the rear. The soft sand crumbled underfoot, the scent of green plants and sweet flowers was heavy in the air. It would have been a lovely place, except for the silent ship. Kenar headed for the bow, and the crewmen spread out to search along the bluff. The wooden hull was covered with tar, or whatever the Hollow World equivalent was, and from this angle only the decorative painting made it different from a Menaen ship.

  They circled around to the port side, the side facing the island that they hadn't been able to see from the Sovereign. A rope ladder hung over the rail there, dangling down to the sand. “Was that here before?” Miss Marlende asked tensely.

  “Yes.” Kenar started to climb.

  “No sign of tracks on this sand, but wind or water may have worn them away,” Lord Engal said, mostly to himself.

  One of the crewmen called out, “There's a way up the bluff, here, My Lord. Steps cut into the dirt.”

  “We did that, to get up to the airship,” Kenar said, already vanishing over the rail.

  Lord Engal turned to follow him, telling the crewmen, “Two of you climb up there, look for signs of the airship. Stay within shouting distance.”

  Oswin picked out two more men to remain on guard on the beach, then followed Lord Engal up the ladder with the others. Emilie followed them. She looked back to see Miss Marlende hesitating, torn between the ship and joining the search for the airship atop the bluff. Then she turned to follow them up the ladder.

  Emilie climbed awkwardly over the solid rail onto the deck. She had been afraid to see the place strewn with bodies, but there was no sign of that. Yet, she thought, a little sick.

  Kenar did a quick circuit of the deck, which to Emilie's untutored eye seemed undisturbed. There was nothing broken, no loose lines in the rigging, the casks and barrels of supplies - as gaily painted with vines and flowers as the rest of the ship - were still lashed into place. Kenar opened the door into the long series of cabins along the deck, moving quickly through.

  Emilie followed behind Lord Engal and Oswin. The windows were all shuttered, but the slats were tilted to allow in light and air but deflect rain. They moved quickly along, and she got only fast glimpses of bunks and seats built into the walls with brightly-colored cushions, blue and gold pottery jars, a cabinet stacked with scrolls of paper. One scroll had been left unrolled on a stool, and Emilie stopped to look at it. It wasn't a map, as she had thought at first - she remembered the map Kenar had carried had been drawn on a square of fabric - but a long list of notes hand-written in an oddly square script. She wondered if it was a chronicle of the voyage. Maybe someone left a log entry, a note about where they went, what happened to the airship, she thought. And why they didn't take their ship, even though it doesn't look like there's anything wrong with it. She suspected she was being optimistic again.

  She hurried to catch up with the others, who were just going down the open hatch into the hold. It was warm down there, and crowded with supplies, mostly casks and more of the pottery containers, so Emilie stayed on deck with Miss Marlende. There was another separate cabin back here, and Emilie stepped inside to see it was a small galley. There was no place to eat inside, but there was a small squat metal stove with a flat cook top, and pots and jars were stored on shelves against the walls, with rope webbing to hold them in place against the ship's motion. The room smelled of herbs and wilted greens. There was a pot beside the stove, still half-full of stale water, a wooden spoon with a carved flower handle standing in it. Emilie took the spoon out, so it wouldn't be ruined by soaking too long in the water, and hung it on an empty wall hook.

  Miss Marlende was shielding her eyes, looking toward the bluff. From here there was a better view of the top, and Emilie could see the two crewmen moving through tall grass, in a big clearing half-surrounded by the tall palm trees. They were scuffing at the ground with their boots, poking through the ferny bushes. It didn't look as if they were finding anything. Not anything terrible, anyway. Emilie said, “Maybe they fixed the airship's aetheric engin
e.” It was a stupid thing to say, but she was finding it hard to just stand here silently, as if they were at a funeral. She could hear wood creak as the men below searched through the holds, but she bet they weren't finding anything, either.

  Miss Marlende bit her lip. “The Cirathi would leave someone behind to guard their ship. Unless something attacked them and they all had to escape.”

  The ladder creaked as Lord Engal climbed back up, followed by Kenar, Oswin, and the other crewmen. Kenar moved away immediately to the railing, knotting his fists on it and looking across at the island. Lord Engal cleared his throat. He was sweating in the damp air, and had pulled his shirt collar open. He said, “There's no sign of violence, but there's no sign they took any of the supplies they would need to leave the ship for any length of time.” He frowned at the island, the men still searching the top of the bluff. “Hmm. A closer look at the airship's landing site may tell us more.” He focused on Miss Marlende and said, “We'll find them. Obviously they had a compelling reason to leave this spot, even if it isn't obvious to us.”

  Miss Marlende nodded tightly. “We took too long to get here.”

  Lord Engal's brows lowered, but he kept a hold on his temper. He said, “I apologize for the delay, but I assure you-”

  “No, not you.” Her voice was thick with the effort to control her emotion. “I should have acted more quickly. As soon as Kenar arrived with the news of what had happened, I should have...had plans already in place, I should have...” She shook her head, and turned away.

  Emilie unobtrusively pressed her sleeve to her eyes. It was obviously taking a great deal for Miss Marlende not to give way, and she didn't want to add to the burden by succumbing to sympathetic and completely useless tears herself. She wasn't sure if Miss Marlende wanted to be comforted, or how to go about it, or if the attempt would just make things worse. Kenar, still standing at the rail and lost in his own grim thoughts, clearly wanted to be left alone.