A World Without Heroes - Brandon Mull [81]
“The Dangler?” the boy chuckled. “Somebody dare you to knock at his door?”
“Something like that,” Jason replied.
“Everyone knows where the Dangler lives,” the boy said. “Leastways everyone who’s ever set foot in the Fleabed. I’m not from the Fleabed myself, but I could find the Dangler’s door easy enough.”
“Two drooma?” Jason asked, taking the cue.
The boy brightened. “At your service.” Jason handed over two pellets, and the boy stared at them as if he held diamonds. When the boy awakened from his temporary trance, the pellets disappeared into a pocket. “Follow me.”
The nimble boy led Jason and Rachel away from the castle, toward the huge domed building. After traveling several blocks, they left the main avenue, soon veering to continue south beyond the enormous domed structure. They entered a maze of narrow, filthy streets and alleys. The buildings began to look like poorly stacked boxes. Furtive eyes peered through boarded windows, and lonely figures dressed in layers of worn clothing roamed the alleyways. Jason kept a wary eye on the people around them. Beneath his cloak one hand remained on his knife.
The boy led them around a battered lean-to in the mouth of an alley, where an old woman huddled behind a curtain of tattered rags. On one side of the alley a single solid building stood in contrast to the haphazardly overhanging levels on the opposite side. A gang of thin urchins scattered as Jason and Rachel followed the boy forward.
The boy stopped and pointed. “Up on the left is the Dangler’s door. Whether you knock is up to you. Will you need help finding your way out of here?”
“I think we’ve got it,” Jason said, unsure how long they might converse with Nicholas Dangler. He figured he could always hire another guide.
The boy looked up expectantly.
Jason fished out another drooma. “Thanks.”
The boy stashed the pellet away and dashed off without another word. Rachel stepped nearer to Jason. “Is this safe?” she murmured.
“Has anything been safe?” Jason replied, his eyes following the boy as he ran away. “It makes me sad to think of all the kids growing up here.”
“I can’t think about that,” Rachel said, her eyes misting up.
Jason sighed. “At least the Dangler’s door leads to a sturdy building.”
“There aren’t many in the neighborhood,” Rachel agreed. “I’m surprised this part of the city hasn’t collapsed into the alleys.”
“Let’s knock.” Jason approached the door and tapped it three times with his knuckles. The heaviness of the door dampened the sound. After waiting for several seconds, he knocked again, pounding this time.
“Maybe he’s not home,” Rachel said after a moment.
As Jason knocked a third time, locks disengaged, and the door whipped inward. A woman stood there, nearly his height, her shoulders broad, her dark hair tied back. She wore a sleeveless tunic, her bare arms plump with muscle. “What do you want?” the woman asked.
“We’re looking for Nicholas Dangler,” Jason said.
Her challenging eyes shifted from Jason to Rachel and back. “Nicholas is ill; he can’t abide visitors. If you want to commission work, I am running his enterprise. We could set up a consultation.”
“We specifically need to speak with Nicholas,” Rachel said.
“Then you should have visited years ago,” the woman responded.
“Please,” Jason persisted. “We’re strangers to this city. We really need his help. Galloran sent us.”
The woman sneered. “Your ridicule lacks invention.” She slammed the sturdy door.
“Should you have brought up Galloran?” Rachel asked.
“Jugard said that Nicholas used to work for Galloran,” Jason replied. “The problem is she thinks we’re kidding.” Slipping a hand into a pocket, he knocked again.
“Careful,” Rachel said. “She looked like she could beat you up.”
After a few bursts of knocking, Jason began to incessantly pound. When the door opened again, the woman held a sword. Behind her an older, smaller woman leveled a fancy crossbow at Jason.
“Walk away,” the broad-shouldered woman suggested. “Do not force us to use violence.”
Jason held up the ring Galloran