by Martha Wells
“I don't think so, either,” Emilie offered. “Lord Engal isn't subtle. He seems more the shouting-at-you-in-person type.”
Miss Marlende gave her a quizzical expression. “An astute observation.”
Emilie wasn't sure if she was being teased. She said, a little stiffly, “I'm used to dealing with people who shout.”
“Who shouts at you?” Kenar asked.
“Oh, you know, my uncle.” She made what she hoped was an offhand gesture, sorry she had brought it up.
“Is that why you ran away?” Miss Marlende asked, frowning a little.
“Mostly, yes.” Emilie made the answer abrupt, hoping they wouldn't ask any more. “And my oldest brother Erin ran away to join the merchant navy and he did very well, so I was just following his example. Without the navy.” He had been obsessed with going to sea and exploration, and used to make their other two brothers play his crew. Emilie had always been his second in command. Uncle Yeric had told Erin all his life that he meant him to stay at home and go into business with their cousins who lived in another town, and had never paid much attention to Erin's own aspirations. But in this new world, with all these new people, washed by a cool breeze on the deck of a ship sailing an alien sea, she didn't want to talk about her family. She asked Kenar, “Did our world seem very strange to you?”
“Yes.” He smiled, the points of his teeth showing. “The cold weather was rather unpleasant.”
“I'm afraid the whole thing was very unpleasant,” Miss Marlende said, rubbing her forehead. “Lord Engal didn't trust Kenar's word. I'm not sure why. It's rather a large amount of trouble to go to for an elaborate hoax. And you know, Kenar's not human, and it's rather easy to prove his appearance isn't a sorcerous illusion or trick. We had to be very careful to conceal his appearance when we were in Meneport. You'd think that would have substantiated our story all by itself.”
“It did.” Kenar snorted amusement. “He thinks I'm luring you down here to kill you and take his engine.”
Emilie pointed out, “If you had Dr. Marlende down here already, then you'd have his engine. Why would you need Lord Engal's too?”
“There's that,” Kenar said dryly. “I don't want any engines.”
“Logic didn't seem to enter into it.” Miss Marlende sounded as if she was more than fed up with Lord Engal. “Every time I thought we had convinced him, he seemed to change his mind again.”
Dr. Barshion, Emilie thought. He had been suspicious of Kenar, pressing Lord Engal about it even as the expedition prepared to leave. She debated mentioning it, but she didn't want to be seen as making trouble. And probably they already know Dr. Barshion doesn't trust Kenar. Yes, of course they did. Barshion had as much as said so when they were all waiting in the lounge together.
Miss Marlende was saying, “Lord Engal kept having Kenar locked in his cabin, if you'll believe it.”
“Thank you for letting me out,” Kenar told her.
She shrugged. “It was the least I could do.”
After a time, Kenar and Miss Marlende went back inside, but Emilie spent the next couple of hours sitting in a chair on the glassed-in promenade, just watching the flooded city go by. She tried to stay awake, not wanting to miss anything, but found herself napping occasionally, drifting off in the mild sunlight and fresh air.
The towers and columns had been growing fewer, with more distance between them, for the last hour or so. Emilie thought it might be because there were smaller structures in this area, only a single story tall, covered completely by the flood. But even standing on a chair and craning her neck, she hadn't been able to see any sign of it below the clear water. She had caught glimpses of mosaics, blue and green and flecks of other colors, set in plazas between the towers.
Then a shrill whistle from the bow startled her. She heard footsteps pounding along the upper deck, and rushed to follow. She ducked inside, went up to the top deck, and ran around to the bow, to the open observation area just below the wheelhouse. A few crewmen were already there, and Emilie saw immediately what had caused the lookout to call the alarm.
Some distance ahead, just visible over the top of a half-sunken colonnade, was a ship's mast. “What is it?” Emilie said. From what she understood, they were still a long distance from where Dr. Marlende's airship waited, and this looked like a sailing vessel. “A Cirathi ship?” Maybe Kenar's people had come this way looking for help.
One of the crewmen gave her an odd look. “Don't know, Miss. It looks like a wreck.”
Kenar and Miss Marlende arrived a moment later, with Lord Engal striding up behind them. Miss Marlende was asking Kenar, “Is it your ship?”
He went to the rail, staring hard toward the mast. The crewmen moved away from him a little uneasily. As the Sovereign drew closer, two more masts were visible, but the ship seemed to be sitting at an odd angle. He said, “No, it isn't the Lathi. I don't recognize...”
The Sovereign was moving past the colonnade that had blocked their view, and now they could see the hull of the ship. It was a wreck, lodged half atop one side of the pitched roof of a half-submerged structure. It was a long hull, longer than the Sovereign or even the Merry Bell, but the steam-driven paddlewheel on its listing port side was smaller, as was the smoke stack in the stern. Sails still clung in withered shards to the ruined mast, planking along the deck had rotted, and the metal hull was scraped and discolored by rust. “It's from our world,” Miss Marlende said. “But how-”
“It's the Scarlet Star, by God,” Lord Engal said, lowering his spyglass. “You can still make out the name on the bow.” He turned, waving up at the wheelhouse. He strode away, back toward the hatch that led inside.
“What's the Scarlet Star?” Miss Marlende asked, before Emilie could.
One of the older crewmen said, “She was a cargo steamer, heading toward Meneport, when she went missing in a freak storm. This was about ten years ago. There was always something thought funny about it. There was no sighting from the Southern Light, no wreckage washed up anywhere ashore.” He looked toward the battered wreck again, brow furrowed. “I guess this explains it.”
“How is that possible?” Emilie asked. She hadn't heard the story of the Scarlet Star before, but it had happened a long time ago. “It wouldn't have had an aetheric engine, would it?”
Everyone must have been wondering the same thing, because all the men were looking to Miss Marlende for the answer. Frowning, she said, “No, it couldn't have. But there is a theory that violent electrical storms do cause aetheric currents to act in very odd ways.”
Kenar said slowly, “Very odd, meaning...snatch a ship from the surface world and bring it through the rift in the ocean floor and deposit it here?”
“But it wouldn't have the spell bubble, like we did,” one of the crewmen protested. “It would be crushed when it was dragged under, wouldn't it?” It was the young man who had been helping Abendle with the aetheric engine. He looked as if he had been working all night, his curly hair flat with sweat and his uniform rumpled.
“It wasn't crushed, and it got here somehow,” Emilie pointed out.
“Yes, but Seaman Ricard is right,” Miss Marlende said, leaning on the rail and studying the wreck thoughtfully. “There must have been some protection for it. Perhaps the storm caused a pocket of air to form, and that was what was pulled through the rift, with the ship brought along as part of the pocket.”
Ricard looked at the wreck again. “So there could have been survivors?”
Kenar sound grim. “For a time, maybe. There's no help out here, no fresh water, no food.”
Emilie saw what he meant. This city must have been empty for decades, perhaps even before it flooded. And there was no land in sight. It would be a rather bleak spot, if you were stuck without a ship or other means of transport.
An officer called from the upper deck, and the crewmen ran to obey. Emilie felt the engines change pitch as the ship began to slow. She said, “We're going to stop and search the wreck.” She was torn between excite
ment at seeing a real ship wreck and feeling sorry for the crew. They must be dead, whatever had happened to them, whether they had drowned when the ship had been dragged into the aetheric current or died of hunger and thirst after being deposited here. She wasn't sure which was a better fate; both sounded painful and frightening.
“We're wasting valuable time.” Miss Marlende gripped the rail, sounding as if she was struggling to control her temper.
“No,” Kenar said. “It might tell us something about what we're to face in these waters.” He added, “And we can use all the help we can get.”
But the wreck provided no help at all.
The Sovereign slowed to a halt a little distance from it, and the launch was dispatched to investigate. Aboard were Kenar, Captain Belden's first officer Oswin, and six armed crewmen. Emilie and Miss Marlende waited on the deck with Lord Engal and Dr. Barshion, who was taking a brief respite from working on the aetheric engine and had come out for some air. They watched tensely, but after a short time of climbing over the wreck, the boarding party returned with little news.
“Nothing there, My Lord,” Oswin reported to Lord Engal after they climbed back aboard the Sovereign. “I found the cover of the log book but water had washed into the bridge and the pages had rotted away. There was no sign of the crew, alive or dead. I think they must have perished before the ship entered the rift.”
“There was no sign of anything,” Kenar added. “No supplies at all, in the hold or the cabins, no crates or casks, no blankets on the beds, no clothing, no pots in the cooking area. As if the ship was stripped.”
“Yes, but it's been there ten years,” Oswin said, before Lord Engal could reply. Emilie felt they had been arguing about this during the entire exploration of the wreck. “Everything that wasn't nailed down would have washed away.”
“Not everything,” Kenar said stubbornly.
“That aside,” Lord Engal put in firmly. “If there's nothing more to learn here, we'll continue. At least we can reveal the solution to the mystery of the Scarlet Star's disappearance when we return.”
He went back up the stairs toward the wheelhouse, and the crew dispersed back to their duties. Miss Marlende lifted a brow at Dr. Barshion and said, “When we return?”
His mouth set in a grim line, he said, “We're working on it.”
CHAPTER FOUR
When night fell, the sun didn't sink toward the horizon; the shape of the Dark Wanderer moved across it, causing an eclipse.
Emilie had seen an eclipse of the moon before, but never the sun. While it was impossible to look directly at even the Hollow World's smaller sun without going blind, they could see the eclipse coming by the line of darkness sweeping slowly across the sea toward the ship.
Once the sun was completely obscured, it was as dark as the most cloud-covered moonless night, with only the ship's running lights to guide them across the water. The Sovereign dropped its speed by half, chugging cautiously along, with lookouts in the bow to spot obstacles. Kenar said the darkness should last about eight hours by the ship's clock.
Except for the crewmen on watch, and the group still working on the aetheric engine, most people were going to take the opportunity to sleep. Miss Marlende offered Emilie the extra bed in her cabin, possibly in order to keep an eye on her. At the moment Emilie didn't care; she hadn't done anything but briefly nap for nearly two days, and was tired enough that she was ready to lie down on the deck to sleep.
The cabin was on the second deck above the hull, an interior one with no portholes. It was nicely appointed with two beds, roomy cabinets, a tap and small ceramic hand basin, mirror, and a door leading to a small private water closet. Emilie was expecting to be given instructions to wash and change and attend to her hair, but Miss Marlende just sat down heavily on her bed to unlace her boots, and waved a vague hand toward the clothes cabinet and the basin. “There's water and things over there. Use whatever you need.” Then she lay down on the bed fully clothed and was asleep in moments.
Emilie stared, bemused. It underscored the fact that Miss Marlende was an adventuress; not the romantic kind who got into trouble, but the intrepid kind who explored unknown territories and made discoveries and visited all sorts of strange places. She thought of her friend Porcia, who had been training herself for adventures since Emilie could remember, and had already announced her intention of never marrying, and of traveling the world with several doughty female companions. One of the benefits that she and Porcia hadn't considered was that one could do what one liked and worry about comfort more than appearance. It made a nice change from Emilie's aunt, for whom appearance and what the neighbors thought was everything.
It was nice to be treated as an adult who could make her own decision about whether she should wash or not. Her aunt had never considered her capable of it, seeing her as the same tomboy who had always come in covered with dirt and muck from the garden. Well, that's what you assumed, anyway, she thought. Emilie looked at herself in the mirror, the memory of that last argument with her uncle making her cheeks heat with anger. It seemed obvious now that Aunt Helena had thought Emilie a great deal worse than just a tomboy. All because she had asked to go to cousin Karthea's school.
She realized that the saltwater swim in the harbor hadn't done her hair any favors, and that her clothes were itchy in the most uncomfortable places. She sighed. It would be stupid to forego washing just to spite her aunt, who, since Emilie had run away, was sure to be pretty well spited already. She ended up washing in the hand basin and rinsing out her underthings, taming her hair somewhat, and borrowing a thick cotton nightgown out of the cabinet to sleep in. Leaving one light on near the door, she tucked herself in and fell asleep almost as fast as Miss Marlende had.
She was jolted awake what felt like moments later by the ship's whistle. Miss Marlende sat bolt upright, gasping, “What the hell is that?”
“Ship's alarm!” Emilie realized the ship was slowing down even further, the low thrum of the engines changing in pitch. She struggled out of bed, squinting at the clock. They had been asleep about four hours; from what Kenar had said, the end of the eclipse was still some time away. She heard boots pounding out in the corridor and hurried to dress, scrambling into her still-damp underwear, bloomers, and one of Miss Marlende's shirts. Miss Marlende, older and slower to come to full consciousness, managed to struggle out of bed and get her boots back on. She reached the door only a moment ahead of Emilie.
Not bothering with her own boots, Emilie ran barefoot down the carpeted corridor after Miss Marlende. As they reached the hatch, Miss Marlende flung out an arm to stop her. “Careful,” she said, low-voiced. “If there's something out there-”
“Right,” Emilie said, making a mental note not to plunge headlong out of hatches at night while in strange worlds.
Miss Marlende peered through the glass window of the hatch, then twisted the handle and pushed it open. She stepped out, still cautious, and Emilie stood on tiptoes to see over her shoulder.
The night was lit only by the lamps along the deck, but someone up by the wheelhouse was shining the ship's spotlight down on the water ahead. “What is that?” Miss Marlende muttered.
“It looks like...seaweed?” Emilie followed her, trying to see in the uncertain light. The water was clotted with some sort of plant. The searchlight picked up vines growing thickly over the surface, with large lumps floating among them. It looked distressingly like a Sargasso Sea, which had featured in frightening detail in one of the Lord Rohiro novels.
Miss Marlende moved to the railing. “Emilie, you should go back to the cabin.”
“Why? What is it?” Emilie still couldn't see anything in the searchlight beam but thick weeds. On the main deck below, sailors were moving around with lights, but it was too dark to see what they were doing.
“I don't know what it is,” Miss Marlende replied with some annoyance. “That's why I think you should go back to the cabin.” She gave Emilie a stern look. “Now go.”
Fine, Emili
e thought, annoyed herself. “I'm going,” she said, with dignity. Moving as slowly as possible away from the rail, she heard voices raised in agitation and caught a glimpse of Kenar standing on the deck below with a lamp. He was talking to someone; she thought it might be the first officer Oswin.
“Kenar!” Miss Marlende called softly. “Do we know what it is?”
Kenar and Oswin turned, looking up, and Oswin said, “It looks like-”
Something flipped up out of the water, a long narrow shape, as if one of the vines had suddenly stood straight up. Emilie pointed and gasped an incoherent warning. Old wood-cut pictures of sea monsters flashed through her head; she thought she was looking at a giant tentacle. It swung toward the ship, slamming into the rail a bare three steps away from Emilie and Miss Marlende. Then something leapt off it, landing on the deck.
Miss Marlende yelled in alarm and Emilie jerked backward. The thing had two arms, two legs, and a slender body - for an instant Emilie thought it was a person, albeit a naked person with green skin. Then she got a better look at its head. It was eyeless, noseless, earless, its face a blank except for a wide slit for the mouth.
Miss Marlende lifted her hands, palm out, saying quickly, “We mean you no harm. If we came near your...your territory, it was an accident, we're only passing by-”
It hissed, opening its mouth to show a shockingly large rictus of fanged teeth. Then it lunged forward and grabbed for Miss Marlende.
Miss Marlende swung at it, hit it in the face with her fist, but it caught her arm and dragged her toward the railing. Emilie shrieked for help at the top of her lungs, then grabbed for Miss Marlende and wrapped her arms around the other woman's waist.
It dragged them inexorably to the rail, far stronger than a human of that size would be. But as they hit the rail Miss Marlende dropped to the deck, throwing the creature off-balance, then used the moment of distraction to wrap her legs around the lower strut of the rail. Yes! Emilie thought, letting go of Miss Marlende with one arm and wrapping it around the post below the strut. The creature pried at them, hissing, and the metal ground painfully into Emilie's arm. She wrapped a leg around the post and held on with grim determination.