Read Online Rise of the Darklings by Paul Crilley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Paul Crilley
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again, little girl,” she called.
Corrigan took her deeper into the crowd. As they walked, Emily noticed faeries hovering in the air above their heads, forming neat, stationary lines.
“They get paid to light the tunnel,” Corrigan said, catching the direction of Emily’s gaze. “Two beetles for every hour.”
“What do they do with the beetles?”
“What do you think? They eat them.”
They walked on through the crowds, Corrigan pausing every now and then for a brief exchange of words. Emily drew suspicious looks, but even so, she found the feycuriously unaffected by a human girl in their midst. She asked Corrigan about it.
He shrugged. “It’s not as rare as you might think. And besides, most people know me well enough to know I wouldn’t bring you here unless I had a good reason.”
They eventually stopped before a small, unassuming shop front. As Emily and Corrigan approached, a group of strange-looking creatures exited the shop. They had the bodies of horses but the heads of old men. They grinned and leered at Emily, showing large yellow teeth.
“Phookas,” said Corrigan. “Don’t speak to them. Pains in the backside, they are.”
Emily did as instructed and the phookas passed them by, grunting and neighing. A moment later, the door to the shop opened again, and three tall, sad-looking men came out. Emily wondered where they were all coming from. The shop didn’t look big enough to hold so many people.
Corrigan opened the door and led the way inside. Emily followed, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. What she saw left her feeling slightly puzzled. The only item in the shop was a large bed against the far wall. Snuggled beneath the covers, the blankets pulled right up to their necks, were a wizened old man and woman, both of them about the same size as Emily. They had a distinctly gnomish look about them, like Alfrig back at the tenement door.
“Close that door,” snapped the woman.
“It’s freezing in here,” said the man.
“Freezing,” agreed the woman.
Emily quickly pushed the door closed. She didn’t think it did much good, as she could still see the light outside the shop through gaps in the wooden slats.
The woman leaned forward and peered at the two of them. “Corrigan. That you?”
“Yes, Mrs. Stintle.”
“That you, Corrigan?” asked the old man.
“Yes, Mr. Stintle.”
The man turned to the woman. “It’s Corrigan, dear.”
“I can see that. You think I’m blind?”
“What do you want?” she asked Corrigan. “Did you bring us that blanket you promised? We’re freezing in here.”
“Ah … no. Sorry. Been away on business. Next time, I promise.”
“Hmpph
. We know what your promises are worth, don’t we, dear.” She nudged the old man hard in the ribs. He winced and glared at her.
“Ow. What was that for?”
“I was saying we know what his promises are worth. Don’t we?”
“Yes. But there’s no need to break my ribs, woman.”
“Who’s the girl?” The woman nodded in Emily’s direction.
“It doesn’t matter,” said Corrigan quickly, heading off Emily’s offended reply. “We need to get below.”
“Below?” said Mrs. Stintle.
“Below?” said Mr. Stintle.
“Below,” agreed Corrigan.
“Well, what are you waiting for? You know what to do.”
Corrigan jerked his head in the direction of the back wall. Emily followed him over.
“What
do
we do?” she asked curiously.
“We hold on,” he said. “Very tight.”
As soon as he had uttered these words, there was a lurch under Emily’s feet, then a horrendous screaming noise and an explosion of steam from beneath the floorboards. Emily saw the old man and woman pulling on some kind of lever. Then the floor shifted beneath her and they began to drop downward.
“Probably best to sit down,” said Corrigan. “You don’t want to fall off.”
Emily sat as the floor rose above her head. They were sinking straight down through a long tunnel that had been cut into
Corrigan took her deeper into the crowd. As they walked, Emily noticed faeries hovering in the air above their heads, forming neat, stationary lines.
“They get paid to light the tunnel,” Corrigan said, catching the direction of Emily’s gaze. “Two beetles for every hour.”
“What do they do with the beetles?”
“What do you think? They eat them.”
They walked on through the crowds, Corrigan pausing every now and then for a brief exchange of words. Emily drew suspicious looks, but even so, she found the feycuriously unaffected by a human girl in their midst. She asked Corrigan about it.
He shrugged. “It’s not as rare as you might think. And besides, most people know me well enough to know I wouldn’t bring you here unless I had a good reason.”
They eventually stopped before a small, unassuming shop front. As Emily and Corrigan approached, a group of strange-looking creatures exited the shop. They had the bodies of horses but the heads of old men. They grinned and leered at Emily, showing large yellow teeth.
“Phookas,” said Corrigan. “Don’t speak to them. Pains in the backside, they are.”
Emily did as instructed and the phookas passed them by, grunting and neighing. A moment later, the door to the shop opened again, and three tall, sad-looking men came out. Emily wondered where they were all coming from. The shop didn’t look big enough to hold so many people.
Corrigan opened the door and led the way inside. Emily followed, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. What she saw left her feeling slightly puzzled. The only item in the shop was a large bed against the far wall. Snuggled beneath the covers, the blankets pulled right up to their necks, were a wizened old man and woman, both of them about the same size as Emily. They had a distinctly gnomish look about them, like Alfrig back at the tenement door.
“Close that door,” snapped the woman.
“It’s freezing in here,” said the man.
“Freezing,” agreed the woman.
Emily quickly pushed the door closed. She didn’t think it did much good, as she could still see the light outside the shop through gaps in the wooden slats.
The woman leaned forward and peered at the two of them. “Corrigan. That you?”
“Yes, Mrs. Stintle.”
“That you, Corrigan?” asked the old man.
“Yes, Mr. Stintle.”
The man turned to the woman. “It’s Corrigan, dear.”
“I can see that. You think I’m blind?”
“What do you want?” she asked Corrigan. “Did you bring us that blanket you promised? We’re freezing in here.”
“Ah … no. Sorry. Been away on business. Next time, I promise.”
“Hmpph
. We know what your promises are worth, don’t we, dear.” She nudged the old man hard in the ribs. He winced and glared at her.
“Ow. What was that for?”
“I was saying we know what his promises are worth. Don’t we?”
“Yes. But there’s no need to break my ribs, woman.”
“Who’s the girl?” The woman nodded in Emily’s direction.
“It doesn’t matter,” said Corrigan quickly, heading off Emily’s offended reply. “We need to get below.”
“Below?” said Mrs. Stintle.
“Below?” said Mr. Stintle.
“Below,” agreed Corrigan.
“Well, what are you waiting for? You know what to do.”
Corrigan jerked his head in the direction of the back wall. Emily followed him over.
“What
do
we do?” she asked curiously.
“We hold on,” he said. “Very tight.”
As soon as he had uttered these words, there was a lurch under Emily’s feet, then a horrendous screaming noise and an explosion of steam from beneath the floorboards. Emily saw the old man and woman pulling on some kind of lever. Then the floor shifted beneath her and they began to drop downward.
“Probably best to sit down,” said Corrigan. “You don’t want to fall off.”
Emily sat as the floor rose above her head. They were sinking straight down through a long tunnel that had been cut into
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