Emilie & the Hollow World - By Martha Wells Page 0,7
it now. If it rushed in on the ship, how long would it take for her and the others to swim to the surface? It had to be far longer than she could hold her breath.
Knowing that if she kept thinking about it the sense of pressure would just get worse, she deliberately turned away and looked around the cabin. Dr. Barshion sat on a couch against the far wall, and from his expression he was almost as sour about being confined here as Kenar. And there was a woman standing beside a drinks cabinet, wearing a tweed jacket and a divided skirt. She was Northern Menaen like Barshion, tall and slender, with her blond hair confined in a bun. She turned to Kenar furiously and demanded, “How did those men get on board?”
He folded his arms, but didn't seem to think her fury was directed at him. “They were on the launch. Hickran and his men must have been attacked while they were picking up the last supplies.”
The light here allowed Emilie to see his face better. His straight nose and high cheekbones belonged to a handsome man, though they were coated with tiny black scales instead of skin. His brows were feathery fur, and his hair was dark and plush, almost a mane, that didn't quite conceal the extra folds of reptilian skin at the back of his neck. The greatcoat, the dark brown shirt, trousers, and boots he was wearing concealed most of the rest of him, but his hands had scaly skin too, with mats of dark fur across the back. That, combined with the gold eyes and the pointed teeth, should have made the whole effect horrific. Maybe the shock of the pirate attack and the steamship plunging underwater in a protective bubble of spells had softened the impact, but... He doesn't look monstrous, Emilie thought. He looks like this is how he's supposed to look. And there was something about his voice that was reassuring.
Barshion frowned at Kenar and asked, “How did you get out of your cabin?”
Kenar lifted one shoulder in a shrug. He said, “Someone left the door unlocked.”
“He fought the pirates and threw some of them off the boat,” Emilie said. She wasn't certain why she was defending him, except that apparently someone had to.
Possibly it was ill considered. The others turned to stare at her in blank surprise. The woman said, “Who are you?”
“I'm Emilie.” Emilie had no intention of giving her last name, even if she was on a magic underwater steamship. After everything else, she didn't want news of her exploits getting back to her family, not until she was safe in Silk Harbor. She prompted politely, “And you are...?”
The woman blinked, compelled by courtesy to reply, “Oh, sorry. I'm Vale Marlende.”
Marlende. She must be related to the Dr. Marlende that Lord Engal had spoken of rescuing. “I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Marlende.” Emilie took a deep breath and plunged in, feeling it was better to admit the worst and get it over with. Not that it had ever worked out that way at home. “I'm here because I'm a stowaway. But I didn't mean to stowaway on this ship. I was aiming for the Merry Bell. I'm going to Silk Harbor to live with my cousin at her school for girls and I didn't have the money for the passage ticket.”
“A stowaway?” Barshion said, astonished. He regarded Kenar with suspicion. “What was she doing with you?”
Kenar was looking at Emilie, his scaled brow quirked in surprise. “I found her on deck. I thought she was one of Engal's daughters.”
Barshion said, “Even Engal wouldn't be mad enough to bring his daughters on this voyage.”
Hah, Emilie thought. Lord Engal was Southern Menaen too; she thought the resemblance ended there, but no one would have been looking closely at her during a pirate attack. It explained the crew's reaction to her, surprised but not alarmed. It was too bad she hadn't known that while there had still been a chance to get off this ship.
“You swam over from the dock, I suppose, which explains why your clothes are wet.” Miss Marlende frowned at her. “Couldn't your cousin have wired you funds for your trip?” she asked.
Emilie set her jaw, sensing an implication that she had somehow failed to think of this sensible alternative. It stung more, since she hadn't thought of it. But she hadn't known she didn't have enough money until she had gotten to the