The spider crawled across Flynn's butt and then onto his thumb. Slowly, Flynn drew his hand around so he could see it. His fears were right.
It was a white wolf spider, its legs as long as Flynn's thumb. He flung it away convulsively and rubbed his fingers, making sure he hadn't been bitten.
He reached for the splintered branch holding his tunic and broke it off. The sound was magnified in the sudden silence above.
Flynn couldn't see anyone through the gaps. A few feet away, something was dripping from the boards into a puddle. It was too dark to see what it was, but it didn't take much imagination to guess.
The silence was eerie. If any of the men walked across the floor, groaning boards and flexing bamboo would have announced it. The entire fight had lasted maybe twenty seconds, and Flynn was sure no one had left the tavern.
Had they all killed each other?
He was chilled, and not just from the water. Death was no stranger in the Lowdys, but Flynn had never seen so many people die so fast and so easily.
Even taking extra care to look out for the spider, in a few minutes, Flynn had gathered six coppers. If he were braver, he would have looted the bodies in the tavern, but Flynn couldn't believe Ryan Smith was dead. Maybe he was a demon like the other guild rats said.
Maybe he was standing outside, waiting to kill Flynn for spying on him.
Chest tight with fear, Flynn turned and scooted toward his hole. Six coppers were good. Dues were only four, so he could buy bread tomorrow to share with Nathan
and Toy girl.
He was a foot from the opening when something bright flashed in front of his nose. It was so close, it took a moment to come into focus.
It was Ryan Smith's huge sword, and it was stuck through the floor into the mud, barring Flynn's escape.
Just above Flynn on the other side of the floor, Ryan Smith whispered, " Never speak of this. Understand? I've done worse than kill children."
The sword disappeared, and Flynn scrambled out into the night. He didn't stop running for miles.
Four coppers! Four! This isn't four." Rat's countenance was so rage-red his pimples just revealed as a dispersion of white dots. He yanked Nathan's threadbare tunic and hoisted him off the ground. Flynn squatted his head.
He couldn't watch.
" This is four!" Rat yelled, spit scurrying.
As his hand whacked across Nathan's face, Flynn understood it was a performance. Not the beating—Rat was hitting Nathan—but he was whacking him with an open hand. It was audible that way.
Rat wasn't paying attention to Nathan. He was staring at the rest of the guild, relishing their anxiety.
" Who's next?" Rat inquired, lowering Nathan.
Flynn strode forth promptly so Rat wouldn't hit his friend. At sixteen, Rat was already as huge as a man and he had fat, which made him special among the slaveborn.
Flynn held out his four coppers.
"Eight, puke," Rat mumbled, taking the four from Flynn's hand.
"Eight? "
"You gotta pay for Toy girl, too."
Flynn looked around for aid. Some of the bigs drifted and glanced at each other, but no one asserted a word.
"She's extremely young," Flynn said.
"Littles don't pay dues till they're eight."
The attention switched to Toy girl, who was crouching in the dirty aisle. She noticed the gazes and faded, dwindling into herself. Toy girl was thin, with large sights, but beneath the dirt, her characteristics were as nice and perfect as her namesake's.
"I say she's eight unless she asserts different." Rat leered.
"Say it, Toy girl, say it or I'll beat up your boyfriend."
Toy girl's large sights got larger and Rat giggled.
Flynn didn't revolt, didn't point out that Toy girl was mute.
Rat realized.
Everyone realized.
But Rat was the Fist. He simply answered Marlian, and Marlian wasn't here.
Rat snatched Flynn close and lessened his vocalist. " Why don't you join my pretty boys, Flynn? You'll never pay dues again."
Flynn attempted to enunciate, but his throat was so tight that he simply creaked. Rat cackled again and everyone joined him, some relishing Flynn's humiliation, some just wishing to lay Rat in a decent mood before their turn came. Black
hatred jabbed through him. Flynn disliked Rat, despised the gang, and detested himself.
He cleared his throat to attempt again. Rat caught his eye and sneered. Rat was huge, but he wasn't stupid. He understood how far he was shoving Flynn.
He comprehended Flynn would crinkle, scared, simply like everyone else.
Flynn spat a chunk of phlegm onto Rat's countenance. " Go bugger yourself, Ratty Fatty."
There was a moment of shocked silence. A golden moment of triumph. Flynn guessed he could hear jaws dropping. Senses were just beginning to reassert themselves when Rat's fist caught him on the ear.
Black scars smudged out the world as he slam the ground. He blinked up at Rat, whose black fur glinted like a halo as it obstructed the noon sun, and realized he was getting on to perish.
"Rat! Rat, I need you."
Flynn rolled over and saw Marlian ensuing from the guild's edifice. His pale membrane was beaded with sweat though the day wasn't hot.
He puffed unhealthily. "Rat! I said now."
Rat dried his face, and glimpsing his anger cool so abruptly was practically more startling than glimpsing its sudden heat.
His countenance cleared, and he smirked at Flynn. Only smirked.
"Hey-ho, Jay-Oh," Flynn mumbled.
"Hey-ho, Flynn," Nathan asserted, attaining to join Flynn and Toy girl.
"You know, you're about as clever as a box of fur. They'll be dubbing him Ratty Fatty behind his back for years."
"He needed me to be one of his girls," Flynn explained.
They were braced against an embankment several blocks away, sharing the stale loaf Flynn had purchased. The scents of baking, however less severe this late in the day, coated at least some of the odours of sewage, decaying trash stacked on the banks of the river, and the awful bite of the urine and brains of the tanneries.