Emilie & the Hollow World - By Martha Wells Page 0,42
her arms and muttered something grim about stiff-necked blowhards.
But when the launch was lowered into the water, and the landing party started to climb aboard, Yesa's boat returned to hail them again. Using the shell, she said, “I apologize, I should have told you, our Queen will wish to meet your female leaders, also. This is our custom.”
Lord Engal, one foot in the launch, stopped and said, “Oh, is it?” He was clearly scrambling for a polite way to decline. “Ah, our custom is not quite so-”
Yesa pointed up at Miss Marlende and Emilie, standing at the rail. “Perhaps they would accompany you?”
Miss Marlende said immediately, “I would be happy to go, but Emilie is rather young-”
Lord Engal stared up at them, disconcerted. “Miss Marlende, yes, I suppose, but I don't think the girl can possibly want-”
Emilie bit her lip, trying to control herself. Jumping up and down like a little girl and begging Please! I want to see the Queen of the merpeople too! was hardly likely to engender confidence. She knew it could be dangerous, that they had been attacked once already, that human people could be violent for no sensible reason at all and there was nothing to say that these merpeople weren't the same. But that didn't matter. She said, a little too loudly, “I'll go. I don't mind. I mean, I'd love to.”
Miss Marlende frowned at her. She had one hand on the ladder, clearly torn between establishing herself in the launch before anybody raised more objections and a need to dissuade Emilie. Keeping her voice low, she said, “Emilie, I don't think it's wise. It is a risk; after the past few days you have to realize how big a risk it might be.”
From the platform, Lord Engal said, “Yes, I'd better ask Mrs. Verian to accompany you instead.” He waved to one of the sailors up on deck. “Send someone to find her.”
Seeing her chance slip away, Emilie hastily whispered to Miss Marlende, “It's pretty risky to be on this ship at all, with a sorcerer who can't make his aetheric engine work. We might have to live here.”
“Emilie!” Miss Marlende glanced around to make certain no one had heard. “I thought the crew was gloomy, but you're the biggest pessimist on this ship.”
Emilie didn't think it was pessimism, just the result of having her expectations continually stamped on while growing up. She said, “Are you really going to let him ask Mrs. Verian to go? She won't want to at all, and Mr. Verian won't want her to go either, but they'll think they don't have any choice, since they work for Lord Engal. I've got a choice, I'm a volunteer.”
From Miss Marlende's expression, the point about Mrs. Verian must have hit home. She said, reluctantly, “You're right. If we drag the poor woman along against her will... But if… when we get back home, don't let any word of this get back to your uncle. I don't want him trying to have me taken in charge, or dragged into court for God knows what.”
Just in time, Emilie reminded herself not to jump up and down. “Thank you,” she breathed.
Miss Marlende called to Lord Engal, “It's not necessary to send for Mrs. Verian. Emilie can accompany us.” She started down the ladder, Emilie right behind her.
Lord Engal frowned at Emilie, but he glanced at Yesa, still waiting in her boat well within earshot, her translator shell held up to listen. He appeared to swallow a more forceful objection and only asked Miss Marlende, “Is this wise?”
“I think so,” Miss Marlende said. Kenar gave her a hand to steady her as she stepped into the launch. “If it's safe enough for you, it's safe enough for her.”
“I hope you're right,” Lord Engal said, and helped Emilie into the boat himself.
The sailors cast off from the platform, and started the launch's small engine. Yesa waved for them to follow, her boat leading them between the piers toward the big open structure fronting the harbor. Merpeople in other boats and working along the piers stopped to stare at them; Emilie resisted the urge to wave, feeling it might not be entirely appropriate. Miss Marlende, leaning out to look down over the side, tapped her arm. Emilie looked too, and saw slender iridescent shapes flickering in the water below them: merpeople swimming along the harbor's shallow sandy floor.
The big structure was made of white stone, and stood three tall stories above the harbor. Broad pillared galleries