The Fly Guild (19 page)

Big Shot chimed in before Huck could
answer. “Do you have any idea what you are talking about? Any idea at all?” His
tone was angry and Quinton was starting to get the feeling it was permanently
like that. “There are two ways out of the city, that way,” he pointed toward
the docks and the ocean, “and that way,” he pointed toward the swamp, jabbing
his finger into the night air. “Unless you are a fish, you ain’t going out on
the water. Every sailor knows that Fist pays good money for any fugitives from
the guild, and they wouldn’t want you on their ship anyway. With no sailin’
skills, you’d just be in the way. So that leaves the swamp. A hundred miles of
filthy, stinkin’ swamp filled with snakes, scorpions and creatures big enough
to eat you and smart enough to try. Rows of razor-sharp teeth and claws the
size of your hand. There’s one road through the swamp, and it’s full of
bandits. Don’t you see the caravans that come in here? They’re like small
armies, because that’s the only way to get through. If it wasn’t for the swamp
weed people are so fond of, they wouldn’t even bother with this place.” Quinton
thought he was done, but he was just taking a deep breath to continue his
diatribe. “And just for sake of example, let’s say you made it through the
swamp. Then what? There are plains that stretch on forever. Far to the north,
farther than you’d ever make it, is a elven city somewhere in the giant woods.
But you wouldn’t be welcome there. To the West is Sugar Mountain, but dwarves
and worse things live there and wouldn’t like you, either. East and along the
river are some human settlements, but they’re all pirate kingdoms, run by
terrible people. Lord Wren would look kind compared to them. If they found you,
instant slave to some boy-humping thug. No thanks. So if you want to leave, go
ahead.”

Quinton thought through what Big Shot had
told him. If he was right, what would his options be if he left? Assuming he
could even gather enough food to make any sort of trip, it would only last a
few days, then what? He would wander the swamps looking for something to eat,
dodging bandits and giant man-eating lizards. The whole idea was sounding
crazy. He looked over at Huck, who was blankly staring off into the night, no
longer interested in what was left of the food across the wall.

“What are you thinking about?” Quinton
said.

There was a long pause before Huck’s eyes
focused again. “Aw, nothing. I was just imagining what it would be like living
on the outside, living on the run. One thing Big Mouth over there forgot was
that, if you left, Fist, or someone working for him, would come looking for ya.
Nobody leaves the guild, maggot, nobody.”

“Why would Fist care if a maggot left?”

“It’s a matter of principle,” said Big
Shot. “If he lets one go, someone might get the idea that it’s okay to leave.
Next thing you know, no one is left. Fist wouldn’t like that.” Big Shot pushed
past them to get to the door. “I used to live on those plains, which is where I
learned to shoot. If you don’t know what you are doing, you wouldn’t last a day
out there. I know what I’m doing and I wouldn’t even think about attempting
it.” He turned and disappeared through the door and down the stairs. The
smaller boys followed.

“What do you think, Huck, would it be
possible?”

Huck didn’t say anything for a moment,
but his eyes narrowed as he mulled it over. “With the right preparations and
the right plan, it might be possible.” He thought some more, but didn’t say
anything.

“Are you working on a plan?”

“Me, uh, no. Too dangerous. I’m doing
okay right here.” He glanced around, then slapped Quinton on the shoulder.
“Come on, we have to get to work.”

***

Quinton spent most of the night doing his
usual rounds of pickpocketing and petty theft. He had a pretty good haul by
early morning and was taking a break near the Pink Lady when he saw Kate come
out the side door. He immediately jumped up and trotted over to her.

“Hey, maggot,” she said in that slow
voice. She looked really tired and unkempt tonight. “What’s wrong?”

Quinton smiled. “Nothing, I was just
worried about you.”

A thin smile crept onto her face. “That’s
sweet, but why are you worried about me?”

He wasn’t sure how to answer. “No reason,
I just hadn’t seen you in awhile, that’s all.” He loved the way her red hair
curled around her face.

“From what I hear, you should be worried
about yourself.”

“What do you mean?” Quinton was half
afraid she was telling him that they knew it was he who had stabbed Wren’s son.

“Word is that Wren is planning something
big. There’s some outsider coming in to help him clean up. The Fly Guild is
going to be stamped out.”

Quinton wondered how much Fist knew of
any of this, but then he remembered something. “But you’re part of the guild,
too.”

She laughed. “But we’re no threat,” she
said, gesturing to the half-dressed girls inside the door. “Whoever takes over
will just absorb us into their little empire. Fly Guild today, Wren’s wenches
tomorrow. And probably someone else’s the next day.” The smile was gone from
her face.

“I’m thinking of leaving the city,” he
said without thinking. Just saying that was enough to get him killed.

She took a long, slow look at him. “Where
would you go?” The question was more of a probe for information that a
challenge to his idea.

“I’m not entirely sure yet. North to
start, trying to make my way through the swamp. Once clear of that, who knows.”

She nodded and stared at him for a
moment. “How would you survive?” Again, a probe for information, not a
challenge to the idea.

“I figure take a few days’ worth of food,
then try to live off the land. Berries and such. I know there’s some out there,
I’ve seen them.”

“You’ve been outside the walls?”

“A few times. All on official business
though.”

Quinton had never seen her like this
before. The easy-going girl had been replaced with some sort of schemer. Did
she want to go with him?

“Did you ever see the witch?”

This caught Quinton by surprise. Witch?
“Uh, what witch?”

“Travelers say there’s a witch that lives
off the main road many days out. She’s kind to some, deadly to others. Someone
said they call her the Witch of Red Pond because all the water around her turns
blood red.”

“Who is she kind to?”

The look on her face said she knew the
answer, but her lips said, “I don’t know.”

He was curious. Why would she not tell
him? Then it dawned on him. “If I go, do you want to go with me?”

She studied him for so long, Quinton
thought she had not heard his question.

“Maybe, but you’ll need a better plan to
survive. If you start bringing me extra food, I’ve got a hiding place inside
where I can keep it until we are ready. Think about how we would get through
the swamp. Without a plan, we won’t make it.”

“Yeah, that’s what someone else told me.”

“How many people are you telling?” she
snapped.  

“No one, just you. I was talking to
someone about the outside and they mentioned you have to be well prepared to
make it through any travels there, that’s all.”

She squinted her eyes at him, and he knew
she was looking for signs of a lie. He didn’t think he did a very good job of
covering it up. A woman called out to her from inside.

“Kate, someone is asking for you, so get
in here.”

She frowned, then stepped forward and
kissed him on the lips. “Start saving food and bring it to me. I think we’ll
need to be leaving sooner rather than later.” She smiled, then disappeared into
the doorway and the door slammed shut behind her.

For a few moments, he couldn’t get his
legs to move. What a night. First she all but agreed to go with him, then she
kissed him. The beautiful Kate, kissing him and ready to brave the wilds. He
needed to start stealing extra food immediately.

Chapter 7

Quinton felt a nudge and a pain in his
back.

“Get up,” came a voice from the dark. He
opened his eyes but couldn’t see anything. “I said get up.” He was in the pit
and Red eye was nudging him with his foot.

“I’m up, master,” he muttered as he
groggily rose to his feet. He figured he couldn’t have been asleep for more
than a few hours.

“Come with me.”

Quinton knew better than to ask why or
where they were going. Maggots were to do what they were told without question.
Red eye led him upstairs and through the hallways. There was very little
movement, so Quinton suspected it was early. As they made their way through the
building, Quinton got a sinking feeling about where they were headed. It was
too early to deal with Fist.

Sure enough, Red eye led him to the door
Quinton knew all too well and knocked twice.

“Enter,” boomed Fist.

Red eye opened the door, nodded to Fist,
then shoved Quinton through the doorway before closing the door behind him.
Sands was standing to one side looking slightly concerned while Fist and his
massive girth peered out the window. Quinton took his place beside and slightly
behind Sands and waited for Fist to speak.

When Fist turned around, he looked
directly at Quinton, which almost made his knees shake. “You’re going on a
mission, maggot.” His voice was flat and his eyes became somewhat distant.
There were dark circles under his eyes and he didn’t have quite the same angry
energy he usually exhibited. He sat down at his desk and nodded to Sands, who
then told him the rest of the story.

“Your elf friend is now in the city, but
we still aren’t sure what he’s up to. There appears to be some deal that’s
about to be signed with Wren, and we think it bodes very poorly for the guild.
We need to know what the deal is for. Is it troops, weapons, magic, what? We
can defend ourselves better against Wren’s onslaught if we know what tricks he
is working on. Thanks to a well-placed source, we know that the papers for the
deal are with the elf in his room inside the wall. The meeting is to take place
at a formal ceremony tomorrow morning.”

“The crappin’ elves love their
ceremonies,” Fist said with disgust. Quinton didn’t think Fist cared for any
type of ceremony very much.

Sands continued. “So what needs to happen
is we need to get those documents to find out what they are up to. We don’t
really care if they find out we know or not, so this is a straight-forward grab
and run operation.”

Quinton nodded. So far, it didn’t sound
all that hard. There would probably be some sort of diversion created while he
dashed in and grabbed the papers before the elf could return.

“While the objective is simple,
accomplishing it won’t be. First, the building the elf is in is heavily
guarded. Most of them are Wren’s clinkers -- clinkers are the guards in armor,
the obvious ones -- but there are a few streeters -- those are men dressed like
citizens -- who belong to the elf. We can get rid of the clinkers pretty easily
with a diversion, but from what I’ve seen of the streeters, they are real pros
and won’t be easily fooled.”

Quinton wasn’t liking the sound of this
mission anymore.

“The other challenge is the building
isn’t easy to get in to. Its walls are coated with plaster, so are very smooth.
Only an expert climber could scale it.”

“That would be you,” Fist offered as he
plopped his feet up on his desk. Quinton didn’t really need the clarification
on that point.

“You’re probably wondering why we’re
sending a maggot,” Sands said.

“Because we don’t care a rat’s nipple
whether you get caught or not,” Fist added.

Quinton was somewhat surprised that Sands
was even offering an explanation and even more surprised that Fist added to it.

“So here’s the deal,” said Sands. “We’ll
create a diversion and you’ll enter the elf’s room. Find the papers and bring
them back to us.”

Something in Sands’ voice was odd. This
entire operation was odd. Why were they sending him if this were so important?
Why not send Sands, who was as good a climber anyway?

“You’ll go tonight,” said Fist. “It will
be our only chance. Meet Sands at the Pink Lady at midnight.”

With that, Quinton knew he was dismissed.
He nodded to both masters, then backed out of the room. He headed through the
hallways, their walls worn and in disrepair with paint peeling off like tears
running down a face. Something was bothering him. Neither man seemed to have
been acting normal, but he couldn’t quite figure out what was up. He was a
maggot and they told him what to do whether he liked it or not, so there was no
need to be deceptive. He passed through the doorway, turned to head down the
street and bumped into Teli. The boy immediately looked down and muttered an
apology.

“Teli, where are you going this early?” Quinton
asked, noticing how thin the boy looked.

Teli looked as though Quinton were about
to strike him.

“I’m just asking; you aren’t in trouble,”
Quinton reassured him.

The younger boy looked at him warily for
a few moments before answering in a half-whispered voice. “I was going to go
beg for some food.”

“Beg? Why don’t you just steal it?”

“I don’t like to steal,” he said so
quietly that Quinton had to lean forward to hear him.

“No wonder you are so thin. Look at you,
you’re mostly bones.” Teli didn’t respond, he just looked at Quinton with his
sunken brown eyes.

“I don’t like to steal,” he repeated.
Quinton sighed. Trying to take the moral high road in the guild was a death
sentence for sure, one way or another.

“Come on, you can share some of my take.”

“But you’ll steal to get it,” he said.

“But it won’t be you stealing it, so
that’s not really the same, is it?” Quinton said it more as a statement than a
question.

Teli thought for a moment, mulling over
the morality of the situation. “Okay,” he said with a slight smile.

Quinton led him through the streets to a
section of town with several bakeries and lots of people coming and going. He
put Teli in an alleyway and told him to stay put while he fetched some food. He
would rather be stealing extra food for him and Kate, but Teli looked like he
could use some help. Within a matter of minutes, Quinton had snagged a round
loaf of bread from an old woman and disappeared into the crowd before she knew
what happened. 

“Here,” Quinton tore off a big piece of
the sour-tasting bread and handed it to Teli. “Good, huh?”

Teli didn’t answer, he just devoured the
bread. Quinton tore off a small chunk for himself and gave the rest to Teli,
then sat down to rest. He was still tired, but he didn’t want to go back to the
guild.

“Teli, does your master ever say things
to you that aren’t true?”

The boy didn’t stop eating, but the look
he gave him conveyed the answer.

“What I mean is, did he ever tell you
something that was blatantly untrue or try to get you to do something ... ”
Quinton trailed off. He wasn’t making any sense. Masters lied all the time, but
not usually to maggots, because there was no need. He still wasn’t sure what it
was that he was trying to say.

Teli swallowed the large piece of bread
that had been in his mouth. “Do you mean did she ever try to set me up?”

“She?”

“Glitter is my master, or mistress or
whatever. She tells me what to do.”

“Glitter?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Glitter?”

“I said yes.” Teli took another bite of
bread. The entire loaf was almost gone now, the majority of which Teli ate.

Quinton didn’t even know Glitter had an
apprentice and figured anyone apprenticed to her wouldn’t last long.

“She tried to set me up once.”

Quinton was confused, then remembered the
original question. “What do you mean?”

“She made up some story about needing to
me to go somewhere, but all she was really doing was seeing if there was
anybody watching or not. But I got away.” He happily went back to eating his
bread.

“Now we’re getting to some
possibilities,” Quinton replied to no one in particular. “That would make sense
based on how they were behaving, but why would they set me up to take the elf’s
stuff?”

“Elf?” Teli asked with a mouthful of
bread.

“Oh, there’s an elf in town with some
important papers I’m supposed to steal tonight. Fist wants to know what the
papers say.”

“Fist can read?” Teli asked, a piece of
bread falling out of his mouth and hitting the ground. He quickly picked it
back up and pushed it into his mouth with the rest.

“Uh, I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe someone
reads it for him. But why would they set me up?”

“Red eye?” he whispered, his eyes darting
around for signs of the man.

“What? Why would Red eye set me up?”

“No. Maybe Red eye reads to Fist.”

Quinton sighed. “I don’t know who reads
to Fist. I’m talking about why Fist is setting me up.”

“I wish I could read,” said Teli, his
voice flat and his eyes staring far off. Quinton knew that look; it was the
same look every maggot got when he was either visiting the past in his mind or
dreaming of a brighter future.

“Look, Teli, enjoy the rest of the bread.
I have to go. And I suggest you get over your fear of stealing.”

“I’m not a thief,” he whispered as
Quinton turned to go. “I’m not a thief.”

Quinton just shook his head and started
making his way toward the Pink Lady.

***

Quinton found a nice shady spot on the
roof of an old building. The upper story had long since collapsed, but there
was still a high wall that blocked the sun after mid morning. He curled up next
to the wall in the cool shade and slept for most of the day. When he awoke, he
had plenty of time to steal another meal, plus pick up a few extra items to add
to the growing food supply that Kate was hoarding. Whenever he approached the
side door to the Pink Lady, one of the girls would let Kate know he was there.
As discretely as possible, he would give her the extra food. He hoped she
hadn’t told anyone else, but there were risks galore with this plot. He hoped
that if anyone actually saw him giving food to her that they would assume it
was for some carnal favor. 

Kate only had time to take the food and
disappear back into the building with hardly a word for him tonight. He half
wondered if she was in on the setup, too, but then chased away any such
thoughts. She wanted out as badly as he did, and he was the ticket out of the
city. She would hide the food and he would guide her out. Besides, she really
liked him.

Shortly before midnight, Sands came
slowly down the dark street. Quinton spotted Sands just before Sands spotted him
and was proud of himself for beating his master at the task. With so many
disappearances, his attention to detail had gotten a lot better.

“Come,” said Sands. He didn’t even slow
down as he walked past him. His voice was tense and he kept rubbing his thumb
and forefinger together on his right hand. He led them down along the wall,
past the church where he had watched the feast and deeper into the darkness.
After several minutes, they came to the corner of a tower.

“We cross here. The guard has been paid
off and will not be on the wall. We move as quickly as possible.”

Quinton didn’t even have a chance to
acknowledge because Sands was already scaling the wall. The boy grabbed a
handhold and started after him. In a matter of minutes, they were on top of the
wall and scaling down the other side. Sands waited only long enough until
Quinton’s feet hit the ground, then strode off at a rapid pace.

“Stay close to me,” he said. “Dangerous
territory.”

The night was particularly dark. There
was no moonlight and the sky was mostly clouded over. The perfect night for a
break-in. They took a few alleyways and side streets, and avoided any sign of
activity. At one point, they had to make a quick dash into an alley as about a
dozen of Wren’s guards stomped past, but they were going somewhere with a
purpose and probably wouldn’t have noticed them even if they had been standing
in plain sight. After a few tense moments, Sands led them further into the
walled city; Wren’s lair. At the intersection of a particularly wide street,
Sands pulled him into a small alcove next to a closed candlemaker’s shop.

“Take this street this way,” he said
pointing to his left. “You’ll see a white plastered house on the corner. It’s
the only one like it. Climb the wall, enter the room on the top floor to the
left. Take whatever papers you can find. Most agreements will be on some sort
of scroll or in a leather tube.” He paused, looking at Quinton in the dark.
“Good luck, boy.” He patted him on the shoulder.

“What about the diversion, master?”

Sands hesitated. “Oh, the diversion. It
will happen as soon as you start for the wall.” There was a long silence.
Quinton was expecting a little better plan than this. “The security men will
not be a problem. And by the way, if you make it into the room, don’t be
surprised by the elf. I hear they sleep with their eyes open. They are sound
asleep but don’t look it.” A cat meowed in the distance. Sands stopped talking
and pushed Quinton into the street. “It’s time. Move fast.”

Quinton started down the street. This
wasn’t right. Sands said “if” he got into the room. If there was a diversion
and this was so important, why was there any doubt? He mulled it over as he
covered the first block. He knew the fancy house couldn’t be far.

He stopped dead in his tracks. “I’m the
diversion,” he said aloud. He looked around to make sure no one was there to
hear him. They would send him in, draw all the attention of the security people
and someone else would make a play while he was attracting all the attention.
Because he was a boy, they wouldn’t see him as much of a threat and would be
unlikely to sound the general alarm.