Emilie & the Hollow World

by Martha Wells

  Kenar said, low-voiced, “It would have been better if they met with us on the docks. But I can see why they want a demonstration of trust.”

  “On our part and theirs,” Miss Marlende said.

  The launch turned down the channel, passing under the arch and between the high stone walls, the putter of its motor suddenly much louder. The walls were carved with tall figures of merpeople, fighting with some large tentacled creature. Very large, perhaps big enough to wrap around the Sovereign and pull it under. Emilie leaned forward to ask Kenar: “Is that like the creature that Dr. Marlende fought off?”

  He turned his head to tell her. “Very similar, but it seemed much bigger at the time.”

  Emilie sat back, impressed.

  They passed out from under the archway into the open again, the channel leading through a plaza surrounded by towers with balconies. A bridge arched above them, and they passed pillars with water pouring down the sides. Looking up at the bridge, Emilie caught sight of startled iridescent faces looking down at them.

  Then they were moving into another building, small but with a vaulted ceiling and an elaborate waterfall grotto to one side. Merpeople were gathered waiting, but they wore more jewelry than the people working in the harbor, polished shells and more silver chains woven through their head fins, and drapes of metallic fabric that caught the light in different colors. There was a short dock extending into the channel and Yesa was guiding her boat toward it.

  “I think we're in a palace,” Miss Marlende muttered to Emilie. “It certainly looks like the right spot to meet with a Queen.”

  The launch bumped the dock and Yesa's crew moved hurriedly to help the sailors tie it up. Stepping out of the launch down onto a stone surface level with the water was awkward for Emilie, mostly because she had shorter legs than the others. She found herself having to cling to Kenar's arm to manage it without falling. Miss Marlende and Lord Engal were more graceful.

  “This way, please,” Yesa said through the shell, leading them toward the grotto. Emilie walked beside Kenar, following Lord Engal and Miss Marlende, with Oswin and the two sailors bringing up the rear. The merpeople were all staring, murmuring to each other, and Emilie felt her face heat. The startled stares from the harbor people and those on the bridge hadn't bothered her; the curiosity had been mutual. But at close range, it was harder to ignore.

  As they got closer to the grotto, Emilie saw the rocks had been shaped by the water into formations like giant swaths of lace. The floor they were walking across was set with medallions that looked like mother-of-pearl. At the foot of the grotto, a woman was sitting in a carved stone chair, the water lapping at her feet. She wore a headdress of polished shell and pearl, more pearls draping her body, wound around a dark blue stole shot with metallic streaks.

  The Queen, Emilie thought, her heart pumping. It was hard to tell how old she was; unlike Yesa, there was a faint darkening of the smooth skin at the corners of her eyes and mouth. Other merpeople, men and women, sat in the water at her feet or stood behind her.

  Yesa said, “This is my lady, Queen Tath-Alare.” She bowed her head.

  One of the Queen's attendants lifted another translation shell, holding it up for the Queen. She said, “You are from the upper world.” Her voice was deeper than Yesa's, but still soft.

  Lord Engal gave her a formal half-bow. “Yes, Your Majesty. All but our friend Kenar, who is of the Cirathi, and has graciously agreed to guide us through your waters.”

  The Queen inclined her head. Emilie got the impression that she was pleased with Lord Engal's manner. It was probably handy to have someone with them who was used to speaking to royalty. Though speaking to the king of Menea must be vastly different from greeting the Queen of the Sealands. The Queen said, “Your world is a legend to us. I had never thought before that it might be real.”

  Lord Engal said, “This is what we thought of your own world, Your Majesty.” Emilie hadn't heard any of those legends; she suspected he was just being polite. “I am Lord Engal, and this is Miss Vale Marlende.” As he introduced the others, Emilie watched the Queen's face. Had she reacted to the name “Marlende?” It was hard to tell. He continued, “We came here to search for missing companions. Your emissary, Yesa, said that you wish to speak to us of this.”

  The Queen nodded, her eyes thoughtful. “I did. Your lost companions came in a ship that flew through the air. We have seen it.”

  “Where?” Lord Engal managed to look as though he was only politely interested in this information.

  “The ship was seen being carried on a barge, belonging to the Darkward Nomads, who also attacked your ship. They live in the outskirts of our empire, in the cities and other parts of the Sealands that have fallen to time and been abandoned.”

  Brow furrowed, Lord Engal said, “Why would they have taken the airship? And attacked us, without provocation?”

  “They take things,” the Queen said simply. “Small boats, cargos, fisherfolk who live on isolated shallows, ships, if they can get them.”

  Oh, that doesn't sound good, Emilie thought. Lord Engal said, “For what purpose?”

  The Queen made an open-handed gesture, as if the answer was obvious. “This is how they make their living, rather than fishing or farming. Perhaps they take the people as slaves, or perhaps there is a darker reason. We do not know.”

  There was an uneasy stirring from the assembled courtiers. Emilie felt uneasy herself. “A darker reason” suggested all sorts of terrible things.

  Miss Marlende cleared her throat, and said, “Your Majesty, has no one ever escaped the Nomads, to explain why they were taken?”

  “No, never… that we have heard of,” the Queen replied. She said to Engal, “You wish to secure the return of your people and property?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” He was watching her carefully. “You have a suggestion?”

  “We are planning a raid, to drive the nomads away from our borders, to protect the fisherfolk who ply those waters.” The Queen tilted her head. “You could join us, add your might to ours, and we would help you search for your people.”

  Emilie was standing a little behind Kenar, so she saw the reptilian folds of skin at the back of his neck twitch. He exchanged a look with Miss Marlende, whose expression was close to horrified. The Queen just asked us to go to war with her, against people of her own country, Emilie thought, feeling a wary sickness in the pit of her stomach. It happened all the time in books about explorers venturing in far countries. And it never ends well.

  Lord Engal gave the Queen a polite half-bow. “If we could have a moment to speak of this in private, Your Majesty?”

  The room they were taken to was above the grotto, with one wall open to the outside. A balcony extended out from it, looking down on a little submerged courtyard filled with richly flowering water plants. Lord Engal had sent one of the sailors back to check in with Captain Belden and tell him that all was well so far.

  “We're not here to fight a war,” Miss Marlende said, as soon as they had privacy.

  With some impatience, Lord Engal said, “I agree completely, but that may be our only way to free our people.”

  Miss Marlende lowered her voice. “If we believe her.” She looked at Kenar. “What do you think?”

  He folded his arms, and Emilie thought he looked deeply troubled. “I don't know. It isn't...” He shook his head, frustrated. “It's possible, but our appearance here seems very convenient for the Queen.”

  “You believe the woman has constructed some sort of plot to deceive us?” Lord Engal sounded almost amused.

  Looking down into the courtyard, Emilie recognized the superior tone in his voice and rolled her eyes.

  “You don't think it's possible?” Miss Marlende challenged. “Because she's too naive and simple, perhaps?” She waved a hand toward the city. “Look at this place! It's the capital for a fallen empire that must be hundreds of years old; their monarchy must go back for generations. If there's anyone who could engage in intrigue a
nd deception, it's her.”

  Emilie watched them worriedly, thinking of the decadent nation of Simyahi from the Lord Rohiro novels. She suspected Miss Marlende was right. There was no reason to discount the merpeople's intelligence or their desire to pursue their own motives. We haven't helped them, saved lives, like Dr. Marlende did for the Cirathi. We haven't become their friends, she thought. The merpeople had no reason to be kindly disposed toward them.

  “I will take it under advisement,” Lord Engal said, which caused Miss Marlende to flush with fury, “but I don't see that they have any reason to lie to us-”

  “Unless they want to use us as cannon fodder against these nomads-” Miss Marlende supplied.

  “Do you have any other suggestion as to how we're to find your father and the others?” Lord Engal said. “Because I'd like to hear it.”

  That gave Miss Marlende pause. She pushed her hair back in frustration. “No. I wish I did.”

  “These marshy islands seem to go on forever,” Kenar pointed out. He didn't look happy, either. “Unless we have some idea of where these nomads camp, we'll have no way to find them.”

  Miss Marlende said wearily, “Yes, I see the problem. I just wish there was another solution.”

  Lord Engal eyed her, apparently unsatisfied with that admission. “I'd like you to stay here while I continue our conference with the Queen.”

  Miss Marlende frowned at him. “So I don't interrupt you with valid objections? Yesa did request my presence.”

  “Exactly. And if she asks for you to return, I'll send for you.” He set his jaw. “Or would you prefer to wait on the ship?”

  Miss Marlende smiled thinly. “I'll wait here.”

  Lord Engal walked out, collecting Oswin and the sailor on the way. Kenar touched Miss Marlende's shoulder and said, resigned, “At least he knows that this might be a trap.”

  As Kenar followed the others, she muttered, “Does he? I'm not so sure.”

  “He's awfully stubborn, and he likes to be right,” Emilie said. Everybody liked to be right, of course, but some people were so invested in it that it blinded them to common sense. Though she was mostly thinking of Uncle Yeric and her brothers; she didn't think Lord Engal was quite as bad as they were.

  Miss Marlende jumped, as if she had forgotten Emilie was there. She sighed and came to stand beside her. “If it was just his ego at stake...”

  Emilie frowned, considering. “Do you think it would help if we took a look around? Maybe, if it was these merpeople who took the airship and the Cirathi, and not the nomads, we could see some sign of it.” She didn't really think they would be that lucky, or the merpeople so careless, but maybe they could see something that would help make their decision easier.

  Miss Marlende stared at her. “Surely the merpeople would object... They wouldn't want us to wander their city unescorted.”

  “Yes, but we could be ignorant people who don't know any better,” Emilie said. Even her vigilant aunt had fallen for that one a time or two. It was how Emilie had gotten to see the Explorer's Society exhibit at Starling Hall in Meneport one year, by wandering off from a shopping trip in apparent innocence. Of course, it had probably just been more fodder for her aunt's belief that Emilie was actively looking for opportunities to disgrace herself in some disgusting way, but she hadn't known that at the time. “No one said specifically that we had to stay here. I mean, Lord Engal did, but really, he meant you weren't to come with him-”

  Miss Marlende was already heading for the door. She stopped just inside, looking out to the gallery that overhung the grotto room. She came back to Emilie. “I don't know that we can slip out that way. There are some merpeople standing by the stairs.”

  Emilie stepped out to the balcony. There was no railing, just a low curb around the edge, barely a foot high. The drop wasn't far, and they could jump down into the water filling the court below, but that was bound to be noticed. And the water was thick with reeds and flowering plants, and the big blue-green pads of something similar to water lilies; it would be hard to explain how they had thought jumping off the balcony into a garden was a sensible thing to do.

  But the wall of the palace had heavy carving; wide ridges of it, curved out like a narrow steep stairway. It led down the wall to a little platform even with the surface of the water.

  Emilie braced a hand on the wall to steady herself and leaned out. She thought it was a stairway, but meant for people who normally went barefoot, with no large clunky shoes or boots. The platform below it had bigger stairs leading down into the water, but it also led to a colonnaded walkway, stretching along the side of the building. “If we go down this way, we can get to that walkway. It has to go somewhere.”

  Miss Marlende stepped past Emilie, craning her neck to see down. She said, “Yes, that waterfall inside the audience room was against this wall, so there aren't any windows down there where they could see us.” She gripped a piece of the carving, and carefully stepped out onto the first narrow step.

  Emilie followed her carefully, one hand on the gritty stone wall to steady herself. She reached the platform, which was a colonnade running along the side of the building. Miss Marlende led the way down it. The paving was set with shells, and vines growing up out of the water twined around the columns, and small brilliantly-colored fish darted among the floating pads.

  They came to the corner of the court, and Emilie was relieved to see an arch leading through a small passageway, with a smooth stone stairway. They climbed up to a roof terrace, the upper galleries of the palace looking down on it. The terrace faced toward the city, with a beautiful view of the bridges, tiled rooftops, and towers surrounding a big open plaza. But the terrace wasn't unoccupied. There was a big square pool in the center, with several merwomen seated in it talking. They had seen Emilie and Miss Marlende and were staring curiously.

  “Uh oh,” Emilie said under her breath. She knew they would be spotted, but she didn't think they would be spotted so soon. Someone was bound to ask about them and carry the word back to the audience room. “Sorry,” she told Miss Marlende. “I thought it would work better than this.”

  “It's all right,” Miss Marlende told her. She walked to the edge of the terrace, where it looked out over the city. Emilie followed her, standing at the low balustrade. The plaza below was filled with water, but there was a blue and green mosaic set into it, and merpeople swimming past. Miss Marlende added, “It was a long shot, at best.”

  The sun sparkled off the clear water and the breeze was cool and fresh. Merpeople moved along the bridge at the far side of the plaza, and small boats plied the waters of the canals beyond. “I'm glad we did it, anyway,” Emilie said. She wouldn't have missed this view for anything.

  Miss Marlende turned back to face the palace, muttering, “This place is larger than I thought. They could have the airship anywhere, even outside the city. If they have it at all. What we need is a small portable aether-navigator.”

  “Do those exist?” Emilie asked. All the aether-navigators she had read about were fairly large and cumbersome.

  “Unfortunately not.” Miss Marlende turned and started for the far side of the terrace. “Let's try to see as much as we can before we're stopped.”

  They made it almost to the steps leading up to a short bridge, before Yesa came hurrying out of the lower gallery. Obviously startled to see them, she fumbled for the shell around her neck to ask, “What are you doing here?”

  Miss Marlende smiled as if she had been hoping to see Yesa all along. “We wanted to see more of your beautiful city. I hope that's all right.”

  Yesa hesitated, taken aback. Emilie kept the smile on her face, imitating Miss Marlende, but she felt all the weight of her presumption. Being rude to possibly innocent strangers was much worse than being rude to relatives. Yesa said, “Oh, I see. I will come with you.”

  “We would be honored,” Miss Marlende said. As Yesa turned to lead the way, Miss Marlende gave Emilie a frustrated look. Emilie agreed. Yesa was hardly likely
to lead them on a tour of the city's secrets. And they had to hope that whoever had alerted Yesa to their excursion hadn't passed word along to the Queen and Lord Engal.

  Yesa looked out over the terrace thoughtfully, deciding where to take them. Then she turned toward the steps, leading them up toward the bridge. Emilie felt depressed; if Yesa was willing to take them there, then there couldn't be anything that shocking to see.

  The bridge led them over more courts filled with flowers, to a gallery that provided another view of the city. Miss Marlende let Yesa give them the tourist's tour for a time, making polite interested comments as Yesa pointed out views, public buildings, the major waterways. Emilie didn't have to pretend to polite interest; everything was new, strange, and fascinating.

  Then, as they were walking over a bridge, Miss Marlende said thoughtfully, “The Queen told us about the problems with the nomads. How long has that been going on?”

  “As long as I can remember,” Yesa said. “We are told that they were from one of the outer kingdoms, to the darkward side of the Empire. That when the old wars started and the Empire fell, the central Sealands lost touch with many of the far flung territories. When embassies were sent many years later, they found only empty cities, abandoned.”

  Miss Marlende said, “We saw one of those, to the...antidarkward, where we entered this world.”

  Yesa nodded. “Just so. We think the nomads are the survivors of those cities, forced to leave to find better fishing grounds.”

  “Did they find them?” Emilie asked, shading her eyes to look out over the view. There was a plaza just visible that seemed to be a market, with all the goods displayed in the vendors' boats.

  “Yes. It was only fishing grounds around the cities that had begun to fail, which is one of the things that caused the wars. There were plenty of others among the archipelagos, and islands to farm.”

  “So why do they steal, then?” Emilie turned back to Yesa. “If they like moving around, they should have more food than they know what to do with.”