Emilie & the Hollow World - By Martha Wells Page 0,13
a dire fate wasn't as shocking as it ought to have been. She said, coolly, “I suppose you should throw me overboard, if you don't mind being a murderer. I prefer being shot to being drowned, if I'm given a choice.”
Silence fell as Lord Engal was rendered momentarily speechless. Leaning casually against the rail, Kenar said, “You're not killing a child.” There was a cold edge to his voice.
“Of course I'm not killing a child!” Lord Engal thundered. “We're not savages,” he added, glaring at Kenar.
“I'm glad to hear it,” Kenar said, his tone making it clear that as far as he was concerned, the matter was still up for debate. Emilie could have objected that she wasn't a child, but decided against it. Despite Lord Engal's bluster, she thought Kenar was by far the more dangerous individual. It was just lucky that he seemed to have high moral standards.
Lord Engal pressed his lips together, then transferred the glare to Emilie. “You're very confident, if you are what you say you are.”
“What else would I be?” Emilie asked. She was discovering how much she had learned about verbal sparring from arguing with Uncle Yeric and her older brother. And Lord Engal had more important things to deal with than Emilie: outside the ports, the flooded city drifted by, small waves from their passage lapping at the white towers and graceful arches. Captain Belden was standing by the wheel and had cleared his throat three times; obviously decisions were called for.
Miss Marlende said impatiently, “Do you really think she's working with Lord Ivers' men? That seems unreasonable to me, and I've been dealing with his machinations much longer than you have.”
“Who's Lord Ivers?” Emilie asked.
Everyone ignored the question. Lord Engal said, grimly, “So you'll agree to take responsibility for her, then?”
“Yes,” Miss Marlende said. Then she looked a little appalled at what she had just agreed to. Emilie was a little appalled, also. She didn't think Miss Marlende thought much of her except that she was a nosy foolish stowaway. That that assessment was probably accurate just made it worse.
“Then take her below,” Lord Engal snapped.
Miss Marlende set her jaw, unmovable. “I will, once I find out where we are and how far we have to go to find my father's airship.”
“Ah.” Lord Engal rubbed his chin, deflating as he apparently recalled that there were more important concerns at the moment. “Yes, we'd better ascertain that.”
Captain Belden looked relieved. He signaled for another officer to take the wheel and stepped into the chart room. “Here, My Lord. I've got the readings from the aether-navigator.”
Lord Engal strode after him. “Come along, Kenar, we need your map.”
With one brow lifted in ironic comment, Kenar pushed away from the rail and followed.
Miss Marlende took a deep breath, still flushed from the argument. She looked down at Emilie and said, “His bark is worse than his bite, you understand.”
Emilie nodded politely, if noncommittally. The expression was appropriate for dogs, who were without personal malice and whose job was, after all, to bark; she didn't think it applied to people.
As they stepped into the chart-room after the others, Kenar took a folded packet out of his inside coat pocket and spread it on the table, flattening the creases with the blunt dark claws on the tips of his fingers. It was a map drawn in dark ink on thin cloth instead of paper, stained by dirt and grease. There were shapes sketched in, the outline of a coast with a large collection of islands, with notations made in a language with blocky letters that Emilie couldn't read.
“Now, where's… Ah, here we are.” Engal took the chart the officer held and put it down next to Kenar's map. Emilie had never been fond of geography, but she recognized Menea's coastline, with Meneport next to the mouth of the Seren River, and Silk Harbor some distance below it, and the other coastal cities scattered here and there. “They're not supposed to match up, are they?” Emilie asked Miss Marlende, keeping her voice low to avoid attracting undue attention. Since Miss Marlende was now in charge of her, maybe she would answer questions.
“No.” Miss Marlende shook her head, absently tucking back a frizzy curl of blond hair. “According to the maps Kenar has brought us and his own observations, there's no correlation between land masses.”
Emilie nodded toward the port, looking out over the serene sea. Sunlight was glinting off the white facing of a fluted column, the top chipped