Island of Echoes (11 page)

We spent hours with the interactive dictionary. The King was right about one thing: Rémy was a natural student of the language. He was able to voice complete sentences in eloquent Anuprian. The phrases were introductory, of course, but he made my entire first month of German lessons in secondary school look completely unproductive by comparison. It was late into the night when we finally decided it was time for bed.

“I am so very excited about tomorrow,” Rémy informed me as we turned the light off and dimmed the glass wall.

“Me too,” I responded happily.

“But a great part of me is rather nervous too,” he admitted, “that this is all some dream, and that we will be thrown back into the reality of the world if we depart.”

“Your uncle certainly isn’t convinced of what the King told us, neither are the others, I don’t think.”

“Are you?” he asked me quietly. “I know you said you want to, as do I, but can you say for certain that we are on another world?”

“If not, then why the illusion?” I countered. “And how would we explain the technology?”

“I know, Phillip,” he agreed, “but can you say for certain that Capribo is what we have been told it is?”

“For certain? No, I can’t. But we will know definitively tomorrow.”

“Yes,” he said thoughtfully, “and that is why I am nervous.”

The return journey to Alexandria had everyone in good spirits the following morning, our fifth on the island of Capribo. The breakfast fruit tasted exceptionally ripe, the coffee was particularly smooth, and even the conversation around the dining table was lighthearted. Everyone was looking forward to the trip, albeit for different reasons.

Sarmia did not join us that morning, but she did send a message by attendant, written in block Latin, informing us that the King’s ship would be leaving shortly before dinner that afternoon. The hours leading up to our departure did not pass quickly. We hadn’t been granted free reign within the Tower of Marble, and I did not want to upset our hosts by drifting through its halls. I likewise had no intention of leaving the palace, for we were celebrated individuals on the island and I would surely be recognized. To make matters worse, Ella and I had no privacy within the chamber and we could not continue our brief exchange from the prior evening.

I instead passed the time writing and observing the locals from the large apartment windows. I spotted what I presumed to be the King’s ship approaching Aleria from the East. It was a much smaller vessel than I expected, hardly larger than our
Bigorneau
, but it embodied nothing of the latter’s bulky construction. The ship was smooth and reflective, like white ceramic. The bow and stern tapered up into delicate stems. Silver trumpets adorned their tips. No, not trumpets. Carved lotus blossoms.

Sarmia came to greet us shortly thereafter. We had gathered in the lounge, observing the vessel, save Ella who had not yet finished dressing.

“Dinner will be served aboard the King’s ship,” Sarmia informed us. “A number of other advisors will be in attendance including Etia Yawa, whom you already know.”

Daniel was about to respond when Ella entered the lounge and broke all our thoughts. Rémy and I had once again donned the Capribian garb, and our appearance had by this time become commonplace among our group. But it was an entirely different matter when Ella emerged likewise wearing the local attire.

She chose a closely fitting tunic of pink, with long white trousers beneath. Her sandals and belt were similar to mine, but of a slightly darker beeswax leather. Her hair was left to hang freely at her sides and I noticed for the first time the lovely ripple of curls within her brown locks.

“Ella!” her grandmother gasped. “What do you think you are doing?”

Ella held her head high. “I am following the example of Mr. Laurence and Mr. Durant,” she proclaimed defiantly.

“But what will happen when we reach Alexandria?” Lady Pearson piped. “People will think you’ve gone mad!”

“Why would that be?” the younger woman questioned.

Lady Pearson put a hand to her heart. “My dear,” she began slowly, attempting to keep her composure, “you are a Pearson and Egypt is under British occupation. You don’t believe you will be spotted and recognized?” She stared adamantly at her granddaughter. “It has happened before,” she added coldly.

“Grandmother,” Ella’s tone was firm but not unkind, “Egypt is not under British occupation because the Alexandria we are traveling to is not the same one which we left. As for my name and my place in society…” her eyes looked up and stared directly into mine, “neither are of any consequence here.” A small smile appeared on her lips and I could feel my heart leap up within my chest.

“Please inform Ella that she looks wonderful,” Sarmia requested approvingly. “The King will be so pleased to see her.”

I passed the message to Ella, who erupted in a full smile.

“Let us proceed to the ship,” the Etia suggested.

Our group was escorted down to the first floor of the tower and we waited in the large semi-circular entry chamber. The great bronze doors to the throne room opened after several minutes and King Eireas emerged. Every detail of his appearance faultlessly imitated the way he looked when we first saw him upon the throne three days prior. Clad in pure white, silver laurel wreath atop his head, he gave us an acknowledging nod and led two rows of purple sentries out of the palace. We followed the procession.

It was a beautiful day in Aleria. The warmth of the sun was perfectly balanced by the refreshing breeze from the sea. Three open carriages awaited us on the cobblestone road. The King and his sentries took the first, Sarmia, Etia Yawa, and three other advisors, all men of middle age whom we did not recognize, took the second, while my companions and I were pointed to the third.

We proceeded away from the tower, and away from the water, down the same path we had taken on our first approach to the city. The thelísta path eventually branched out to either side, leading straight into the dense wood which encircled the grassy lawn around the tower. The carriages turned down the right branch of the road. The temperature within the wood was noticeably cooler and the white stone buildings continued to remind me of some long-abandoned ruins within the Amazon or the Congo. Citizens stopped their daily activities to wave as we passed by. I could see that Eireas was particularly relaxed, appearing nothing like the stiff and distant royals of our own nations. The people called to him by name and he waved and nodded to each of them in turn. Our carriages made a wide arc around the Tower of Marble until our path left the city center and progressed straight through the gardens and out toward the sea.

The King’s ship was a marvel to behold at close range. The silver lotuses carved into the bow and stern were not its only embellishments. The deck was adorned with large tiles of blue stone. A dozen striking columns protruded up into the sky, like white stems emerging from a calm lake. They supported a curved sheet of glass overhead. There were no docks at the water’s edge. A single elevated walkway led us out over the water and onto the polished vessel. I looked down at the waves below me as we made our way across the extended path. The King and his retinue instantly disappeared below deck, though Sarmia remained behind to lead us to the dining hall. We were escorted down the staircase and into a comfortable chamber.

“Please make yourselves comfortable,” she requested.

The room stretched across the entire width of the ship and accommodated two crescent couches of dark leather atop a plush carpet of Tyrian purple. A half-circular table stood within each crescent. I was grateful to see that the couches faced the windows rather than each other. To further my delight, Ella immediately sat down beside Rémy and me. I could see the look of disapproval on her grandmother’s face as she took a seat with Daniel and the Captain on the other couch. The seat backs were tall and we could scarcely hear the elders’ conversation, much less see them. The ironic privacy of the little room was a most-welcome relief.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Sarmia continued, “I must go join his highness in the forward chamber. There is a reclining room through those doors,” she pointed in the opposite direction, “and the latrines are located at the far stern of the ship. I believe Rémy’s grasp of Anuprian is strong enough to ask for me should you require anything before our arrival in the capital.”

We thanked the Etia and she made her departure. The lights of the room dimmed a few minutes later and that odd soothing music, the likes of which I first heard in the King’s dining hall on our first night in the Tower of Marble, began to play throughout the chamber. I could only guess at the instruments which produced it, but the combination of mystical flutes, drums, and occasional choir produced an atmosphere of utter enchantment.

The ship withdrew from the shore and began to pick up speed on the open water. I was astonished by the stability of the interior given the rapidity with which we glided through the water. Although the familiar sway of sea travel was ever-present, the ship’s movement was neither jarring nor unsteady.

“I am pleased to see you in the local tunic, Lady Ella,” Rémy complimented.

“Thank you, Mr. Durant,” she said humbly. “The two of you have given me courage to try something new.”

“It becomes you,” I admitted sheepishly, and I was pleased to see the young woman look up to me with a smile rather than turn away with a blush.

The dinner was a feast of smoked fish, boiled yams, and an assortment of grilled vegetables. The wine, as always, was superb. Our conversation revolved around our excitement at seeing this new world at large, this sister Earth. The couch on which we settled happened to face starboard, and we were provided with a magnificent vista of the setting sun on the horizon. I stole several glances at Ella, her skin glowing in the golden hue, and admired the delicate features of her face. The curvature of her lips and the ornament of freckles on her cheeks complemented her already-captivating form.

“Well that was a satisfying meal,” Rémy stated at the conclusion of the last course. We heartily agreed. “But if you will excuse me,” he continued, “I should like to retire to the reclining room for a bit.”

“Of course,” Ella responded. “Thank you for the company.”

“The pleasure was mine,” he said as he stood from the table. He flashed me a boyish grin and gave me a wink before parting. I smiled and thanked him with a discrete nod.

The sun had already set but its distant glow remained visible at the edge of the sea. Ella and I continued to sip our wine and gaze out at the motley of brilliant colors sweeping the sky. The elders at the other table could scarcely be heard over the music and distant rumble of water rushing past the hull. I realized that I could speak freely.

“Ella, I know why you left Alexandria with such haste,” I confessed quietly. Of all the possible things she suspected I may say, her eyes told me that those words were not among them.

“But… how?” she pondered aloud.

I placed my hand over hers. “The important thing is that this world offers you a fresh start. Your past is not held against you here.”

“So you think I made the wrong decision?” she stiffened.

“I do not know the extent of the situation, but you no longer have to run here,” I reassured her.

She snickered sarcastically. “My run was cut short when my grandmother discovered me.”

“I have no doubt she was doing what she thought best,” I admitted. “The charges were a shock to be sure.”

“Charges?” Ella inquired. “What charges?”

I sighed. “Forgive me, but one of your books was misplaced with my own. I saw the court summons inside.”

She chuckled, her laugh genuine this time. “Court summons? I must admit I have no idea what you mean.”

“There was a court summons for theft nestled between the pages,” I informed her.

“Well I am proud to say that neither my flight to nor from Egypt had anything to do with theft,” she boasted, and took another sip of wine. “Goodness, Mr. Laurence, you must have thought me quite the scandal!”

I could only smile foolishly, grateful that she did not take insult in the assumption. I realized the document must have been an old relic. “Not at all. And please, call me Phillip.”

“Very well,” she looked up into my eyes, “Phillip. If you must know, I was not running when you met me. I had already been caught.”

I poured us more wine and waited for her to continue. “My grandmother,” she added more quietly, “discovered that I had fled England to escape my upcoming marriage.” I had no doubt she could see the dejection which had spread across my face. “He was a brute of a man, fifteen years my senior no less,” she added. “I could not understand why my parents were so intent on forcing my hand to his. I tried to make them see my point but they were adamant. And so I fled.”

“To Alexandria,” I stated.

She nodded. “Granny is very resourceful. I had scarcely arrived when I found her knocking on my hotel door.”

“She did not see your point of view either?” I asked.

“She claims she did,” Ella confessed, “but she said I went about the matter all wrong. She beseeched me to return and allow her assistance in swaying my parents. I had only just agreed that morning when she took us to the docks to secure the next ship to Europe.”

I smiled as I recalled first seeing her at the docks five days earlier. A bygone age, or so it felt.

Rémy excitedly re-entered the dining hall moments later. “The Etia says we are approaching the capital!” he burst. I stole a glance at my watch. The journey from Capribo had scarcely taken more than two hours.

Ella took my arm. “Well let’s go see, shall we?”

The ship slowed its approach as we made our way back up to the deck. King Eireas stood silently with his advisors at the bow of the vessel. I looked beyond them and tightened my grip around Ella’s arm. Alexandria stood proudly before us. Even in the dark, or maybe because of it, the enormity of the buildings stretching high into the heavens was enough to take one’s breath away.