The Fly Guild Read Online Free PDF Page B

would be possible to climb up to it and out before
Grubbs noticed he wasn’t with him, but even as the thoughts went through his
head, his body was already following the older man’s path out the doorway. It
was best to size up the situation first, maybe stock up on food then look for a
way out. Right not he had no idea where he was or if escape was even possible.
For all he knew, the guild might be in the middle of the swamp or on some
distant island. Yes, keep quiet for now, he thought. Study everything, and find
a way out later.
    He caught up to Grubbs in the
hallway. The floors were made of wide planks that groaned in protest with each
step and were pocked with chips and gouges. The hall was dark except for a
single candle that Grubbs now carried to light the way and a bit of light
spilling through a doorway further down. The walls were rough stone, with
mortar slopped between each individual rock. The air smelled of smoke and the
greasy smell the tallow candle left behind. Quinton carefully took stock of
every detail, searching for clues that would tell him where he was, assuming he
was still in the city at all. Grubbs went down a narrow spiral staircase made
of more rough-hewn wood. The stairs were so narrow the larger man barely fit
down them and used his hand to steady himself as he descended the passage.
    Quinton figured they had descended
the equivalent of about three floors when they came out in another hallway,
this one much darker than the one before. The air was damp and cool.
Underground, Quinton thought, but where? He followed Grubbs down the hallway
past many closed doors. He stopped at the last door and knocked sharply. A
muffled voice from the other side beckoned him in. Grubbs twisted the wrought
iron handle and pushed the door open, glancing back momentarily at Quinton
before entering.
    “Master Red eye?” Grubbs called
out. The room was completely black, the light from the single candle casting
long shadows across what looked like a few pieces of crude furniture near the
entry.
    “The candle is on the table,” came
a whispered voice. “Light it so that I may see.”
    Grubbs took another step in, found
the candle on the table and used his own to light it. The flame sputtered at
first as it leapt to the new wick, but it quickly grew in size and began to
cast an unnaturally bright light around the room, dwarfing the small light of
Grubbs’ candle.
    Quinton looked around. The candle
was on a table that had two mismatched chairs at either end. A few books and
what looked like maps were scattered on the table along with some small metal
instruments he didn’t recognize. A short bed with a straw-stuffed mattress was
along one wall, occupied by a man with a long, drawn face and wide eyes. Even
from here it was obvious to Quinton how the man got his name. The whites of his
eyes were severely bloodshot and made the man look sickly.
    “Master Grubbs,” the man whispered
in a strained tone. “So nice to see you.” He continued to lie on his bed,
staring blankly in their general direction. “What have you brought me today?”
    Grubbs nodded toward Quinton. “New
maggot. Sandy – Master Sands – brought him in.”
    The man quickly sat upright in the
bed, tilting his head slightly up and to the side, a look of surprise on his
face. “Master Sands?” He looked at the boy and his look changed to one of
acceptance, his head nodding slightly. “Surprising, is it not, Master Grubbs?”
Before the other could answer, he continued. “Master Sands doesn’t like
apprentices – maggots that is – but yet here we are?” Red eye looked to the
side of the room, lost in thought. “It just begs with possibilities, doesn’t
it?” He continued to stare off into space, ignoring the other two figures in
the room.
    “Master Sands said he has a lot of
potential, especially climbing,” said Grubbs. “He might prove useful if it’s
true.”
    Red eye, still staring off into
space contemplating some mysterious