Emilie & the Hollow World - By Martha Wells Page 0,65
Emilie got a toehold in the side of the channel wall, and dragged herself up all the way onto the rim. Once there, she took Rani's arm, helping to pull her the rest of the way out. Some of the water dripping onto the stone was tinged with red. “Are you all right?” Emilie asked Rani, peering at her in new alarm. “I think you're bleeding.”
“I think I'm not as waterproof as I thought,” Rani admitted. She probed at her forehead, just at her hairline, and her fingers came away bloody. “And possibly hit my head on the bottom.”
“We were that far down?” Appalled, Emilie glanced back at the water. She couldn't see the bottom.
“Yes.” Rani staggered upright with Emilie's help, leaning on her. “This was perhaps not the best idea.”
“I don't know what else we could have done.” Emilie stumbled a little on the grass as they headed for the concealment of the trees. “The merpeople must be-”
She meant to say the merpeople must be guarding every entrance they knew about. But she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head, and gasped, “They're here!”
Some distance down the open pathway, several silvery gray shapes were emerging from the forest - merpeople.
Rani looked, and snarled a curse. She pulled away from Emilie, stumbling, and ripped the thong with the compass off her wrist. She pressed it into Emilie's hand, and said, “Run.”
Emilie darted a look at the merpeople. They pelted toward them over the mossy grass, carrying the short fishing spears they used as weapons. Rani gave her a push, her eyes on the merpeople, and shouted, “Run, I'll catch up with you!”
Emilie choked back a sob, and ran.
CHAPTER NINE
Emilie bolted through the forest, crashing through ferns, dodging past the slender green trunks. Instinct told her to run in a diagonal and not a straight line. Half-forgotten memories of hide-and-seek games with her brothers, back when they had been young enough to still want to play, came back to aid her. She stopped crashing through the brush, running more slowly but taking care not to make noise and leave obvious signs of her passage.
She made herself stop and listen, holding her breath and trying to hear past her pounding heart. Bodies smashed through the vegetation not far away, and she knew Rani would never have made that much noise. Grimacing, Emilie fled off to the right and ducked between the bushes. She had left her boots back in their supply bag, but the ground was covered with a spongy moss that was soft on her feet and made no sound when she stepped on it.
The forest was cloaked in deep green shadows, the air damp and thick with earthy scents. The soft birdcalls and the occasional darting insect seemed different from the dryer forest up on the island. This place is below the sea level, Emilie remembered. Maybe it was different, an artifact of the old Sealands Empire, like the flooded cities.
She stopped three more times, and the third time she couldn't hear any sound of pursuit. Breathing hard, she kept moving but slowed her pace to a walk. They must have captured Rani, she thought, sick. Because I abandoned her. They would have both been caught if she hadn't, but it still felt like cowardice. Smart cowardice, but still cowardice.
Emilie was sick of being compelled to abandon people. First Miss Marlende, then Rani. And your aunt and uncle, your brothers, and the rest of your family, a traitor voice whispered. That was different, she told herself desperately. That was a daring bid for freedom. But her family wouldn't see it that way, and now she might be trapped here and never able to send word to anyone. Her aunt and uncle would probably assume she had gone off to become a prostitute, but there were others - her oldest brother, Porcia and Mr. Herinbogel, Karthea, other friends - who would worry, who would think something terrible had happened to her.
And they might be right.
Emilie stopped, crouched down behind a tree, and gave way to tears. Once the first hard sobs were out, it was a relief, and she felt as if she could think more clearly. Still dripping tears, she licked her thumb and rubbed the surface of the compass. The arrow formed, pointing the way through the forest toward Dr. Marlende. If he was dead, would this still work, she wondered suddenly. Surely aether-navigators still worked, if the sorcerer who had made them