Emilie & the Hollow World - By Martha Wells Page 0,12
in the engine rooms. In the center was a waist-high cabinet of polished wood, the top formed out of a heavy glass hexagon. Beneath the glass, something was glowing with a faint silver light. Engal stepped to it and carefully lifted off the top. Emilie edged closer, and saw that there were metal plates inside, rings and wheels, something like an astrolabe. He made a minute adjustment, and Emilie felt a sudden push upward, as if the deck was moving up under her feet. She stumbled, sudden vertigo making her head swim.
Kenar and Miss Marlende went to the railing at the front of the wheelhouse. In the chartroom the captain was frantically giving orders to secure the hatches, batten down this and that.
The water was growing lighter, and Emilie made out the shapes of rock, like a cliff face, a short distance off their bow. She gasped, suddenly realizing just how fast they were moving. Faster than the fastest train, as fast as falling down a cliff, only in reverse. It was the most exhilarating sensation, like how she had imagined flying.
Then the rock fell away and the light was turning blue-green, coloring everything inside the wheelhouse. The ship was moving up through something that looked like an underwater forest, tall stalks of frilly seaweed bending away from their bow and the bubble of magic protecting it. Emilie moved along the port, fascinated, watching the quicksilver flashes as fish raced away from the intrusion.
She could tell the ship was slowing down; bubbles rushed up past the ports as they left the seaweed forest behind. Emilie felt the deck push at her feet again, as if the ship had been lifted on a wave. Her heart pounding, she stepped forward to grab the rail.
A bell rang somewhere in the depths of the ship and Captain Belden took the speaking tube, saying, “All hands, brace for surfacing.”
And then the ship rolled over onto its side. Some people staggered, but no one fell. Emilie held onto the rail, gritting her teeth against the urge to scream. Water rushed past outside, the whole ship bobbed upright like a wooden toy in a pond, and Emilie wished she hadn't eaten that sausage roll back at the tap house. But then the motion gentled, and they were floating on fairly low waves. Emilie stared out the port, but couldn't see anything past the golden bubble.
“We did it,” Miss Marlende said, awe in her voice.
Kenar let out his breath in a hiss, then leaned on the railing. His shoulders slumped in relief.
Miss Marlende turned to Lord Engal. Sounding a little breathless, she asked, “Should we lower the spell bubble?”
Lord Engal looked down at the device inside the plinth. “From what Barshion said, I don't think we'll have to. It was about to shatter at any-”
Past the port, the golden light of the bubble dissolved, and they were looking out over a sea.
There is a sky, was the first thing Emilie thought. It was a crystal blue, bright and pure, streaked with the white of clouds. And the water under the ship was clear as glass. She could see a school of blue and yellow fish, flickering some distance below the surface.
“What is this place?” someone whispered in astonishment.
Emilie turned to look out the other side of the port, and drew in a breath of pure wonder. They were floating past a flooded city.
She moved to the railing, staring in amazement. It was spread out all across the starboard side, all made of gray-white mottled stone. The tops of square pylons, columned walkways, and towers with odd spiral curves gleamed above the expanse of clear water. Tall feathery trees stood in the sea, waves lapping against their trunks, their soft emerald green foliage vivid against the sky.
Emilie looked up at Lord Engal, standing next to her, and said, “It's beautiful.”
He glanced down at her, smiling, then took a second startled look. His brows drawing together, he said, “Who the hell are you?”
CHAPTER THREE
The next several minutes were problematic, at least for Emilie. She had thought Lord Engal looked like a shouter, and he proved her right, railing on about spies and stowaways and wasn't anybody guarding the ship, as Miss Marlende repeated Emilie's story. To her credit, Miss Marlende continued doggedly, despite the noise and interruptions. At the end, Lord Engal turned to Emilie and demanded loudly, “Why shouldn't I throw you overboard?”
Emilie folded her arms, skeptical. After all the shouting and turmoil at home, being threatened with