by Eric Ugland
“Maybe.”
“That’d be a first.”
“I maybe found my own place.”
“Did you now?” she asked with a wry smile. “With this one?” Lila pointed at me, her knobby finger ending in a half-eaten nail.
“This is my friend Clyde.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said.
“Surely the pleasure is all on this side of the table,” Lila said with another cackle-laugh. “He’s into the beasts as well?”
“I mean,” I said, “if you can remove the sexual overtones and add an academic theme, then yes. I might say I am.”
“He’s a smart-one,” Lila said, her rheumy eyes sort of twinkling at Nadya. “The one you told me about?”
And right there, on the day I’d seen so many new monsters my brain was close to bursting, I saw something else truly shocking for the first time. I saw Nadya legitimately blush.
The blushing caused Lila to start cackling uproariously, which turned into Lila coughing furiously, a really hacking, phlegmy affair. One of the guards looked over with a raised eyebrow. Lila smacked the man’s leg to make him look back out and at attention.
Lila then waved Nadya away. “Go around, then come back.”
Nadya nodded, and meekly pushed me away from Lila.
“You’ve been talking about me to your friends?” I asked.
“You see that thing?” Nadya asked, pointing to a caged beast that looked something like a lion mixed with a bear then dumped in acid and covered with green flock, “I’ll push you close enough that it can grab you with its tentacles.”
I didn’t even see any tentacles on it, but sight was hardly a thing that would disqualify a creature from having tentacles capable of grabbing me.
We moved through the place slowly, looking at all sorts of crazy things. All around us, men, women, and others bartered with each other. Arguments would break out in different languages, and I’d smile each time I got something new added to my linguistic repertoire. It was especially amusing when I’d catch a phrase someone muttered while walking away from a busted negotiation. I filled up a whole mental notebook with incredible-sounding insults, most of which I didn’t really get because the references were completely foreign to me.
Nadya stopped me at a large pit with a railing. She leaned over, then motioned me to do the same. So I leaned over.
The creatures inside all looked up at me. They were a bit like hippos, with wide backs, grey skin, and huge mouths. But they had more teeth. Not just pointy ones, but molars and stuff. It was almost like someone had taken human dentures, supersized them, and shoved them inside a hippo mouth. Disconcerting to say the least. The creatures were big, but seemed much more mellow. Not like I’ve spent substantial amounts of time around hippos, but I did get the sense that they’re rather aggressive. These guys seemed more docile. Curious, but chill.
“Are these pitbeasts?” I asked.
“They’re a type,” Nadya replied. “These guys are—”
“Excellent at eating waste,” came a suave voice. I looked over to see a smarmy-looking man wearing all black leather, with a wide-brim hat cocked at a jaunty angle with an exotic-looking feather shooting out the band. Somewhat the medieval equivalent of a black and grey pinstripe suit. The guy leaned back against the railing of his pen and gestured towards the creatures while keeping his attention on us. And by us, I mean, obviously, Nadya. “Fantastic at creating fertilizer, some of the best in the business. They’re Nedrys. All of them docile as can be.”
“Because they’re in a group,” Nadya said. “They’re very social creatures.”
“Nonsense,” the man said. “You just need one. They’ll grow fast—”
“These are juveniles?” I asked.
“That they are,” the man replied with his plastic smile back in place. “Young and ready to eat. They’ll—”
“We’re just looking,” I said, growing tired of the hard sell.
“Looking will turn to buying as soon as you find the right animal,” the man said. “And if you’re looking for something a little more, say, rugged, I’ve got that too. Just over here,” the man started to walk away, and while I took a half-step, Nadya’s gentle tug on my hand kept me where I was.
“No thanks,” I said.
The man harrumphed, and then walked away without another utterance.
“They are social,” Nadya said. “Very docile and happy if you keep them in a group. But most everyone buys just one. They eat a ton, they excrete a ton, and they get huge. Then they get lonely and violent. So they’ve got a weird reputation.”
“How do you know they’re social?”
“Lila. She’s one of the oldest people here. Kind of in charge, in a shadow way. She knows more about the creatures that come through here than anyone, and I think she’s a part owner of the place. Maybe. I don’t know — it’s very hazy who does what here. I think it’s on purpose so when some fool gets hurt by the merchandise, there’s no one there to take the blame.”
“Seems a bit shady.”
“It is very shady. But any business that deals with monsters is going to be a bit in the dark, you know? Besides, much more upfront than the Arena. Come on — let’s go check out those grimelings.”
As we got deeper into the market, I got a better feeling for it, and realized it was probably a city block. Maybe two. And the deeper in, the stranger the offerings became.
But, like Lila said, there were grimelings at the back, tucked away in something of an alley off one of the main pathways. It was lined with small wagons and small cages. The tiny monster alley, it seemed. One of the first cages was full of little monkey-type guys with wings. They were all pressing themselves against the bars of their cage as hard as they could, straining their arms out as far as the little limbs would go, trying to grab any passerby.
“Plane Imps,” Nadya said, noticing I was staring at the creatures.
“Imps? Like devils?”
“That’s the theory. But they aren’t devils. Some people think they are descended from imps who got stuck here and reproduced. Hence the name. Lila, and me too I guess, we consider them pseudo-imps. I’d like to do some research, see how much of a connection they have to the Hells, if any, and put that matter to rest. But, that’s just one more thing to add to the list of thing to do later.”
“By plane, you mean this plane of existence. Not like, you know, rolling plains of grass.”
“Of course. Plane Imps. They’re found in forests, though, so I can see how the name can be confusing. Smart, but mischievous.”
“Do they have a purpose?”
“Not that I know of. Entertainment? Pets? I’ve heard of people using them as security in wooded homes. Put a group of them in the trees, and anyone who goes through those trees is going to have a hell of a time.”
Just as Nadya said that, one of the creatures managed to get hold of a man’s hair. The creature pulled with all his tiny might. Then all the imps grabbed onto the initial imp, and their collective strength was enough to bring the man against the cage with a clang. The man selling the imps smashed a cane against the bars of the cage, and the imps let go of the poor old man’s hair, chattering with rage at their captor.
I recognized one set of animals, each in their own seemingly too-small cage. Nivali’s. One of the bug-weasel type creatures I’d pulled out of a hole in my very first pit. The good old days when it was just so quaint and calm, this pit business. They all laid there quietly, watching the world around them. It was an interesting contrast to the continued cacophony from the imps.
But most of the people in that small alley were coming to and from a stand at the end of the alley — there was actually a bit of a crowd around the booth. The man standing in the front of the booth was hawking his wares with near wild abandon, talking so fast I could barely understand him.
“Tame grimelings,” the man yelled, “a new innovation in domestication has brought about a new possibility in home creature comforts. Keep your home cle
an and safe with a low cost solution for a problem that has plagued the world since time immemorial. Tame grimelings, they are the new solution!”
I had my doubts.
“I don’t think that’s possible,” Nadya said, her eyes narrowing. She moved forward with purpose, pushing more than one interested person out of the way in her attempt to get a closer look. I merely followed in her wake.
But what I saw made me doubt my doubts.
Chapter 103
The best way to describe a grimeling is to say it looks a bit like a toddler described how to draw monkey to a god, and then that thing got dropped in a swamp. It had a tail, a small body, kind of stumpy legs, hands that were just barely not paws, and a big head with big droopy ears. Wide eyes and a large mouth full of sharp little teeth. But they had soft fur all over their body, fur that reminded me of a seal. Something that was suited to a semi-aquatic life. Or a mud-based one. As they moved in their enclosure, one of the few where there was little to keep the creatures from leaping across and attacking the customers, I noticed the little guys, and girls, had webbing between their feet and hands.
Nadya was scowling at the grimelings.
I wasn’t quite so intrigued by them as I was their, well, barker. He was a character. He had a long leather coat, leather pants, and a stiff-looking white shirt. Impeccably white. His shoes were a patent leather of some sort, super shiny. He spoke very quickly and gesticulated wildly with his hands. The guy was either genuinely excited about his product, or a great actor.
And the crowd definitely bought the act. They were keeping the barker’s assistant busy, scooping up grimelings and popping them into wicker baskets. The duo was making a fortune in gold, and while Nadya and I watched, all the creatures sold. Except one.
I snapped my hand up.
“I’ll take it,” I said.
“Sold,” the barker said. “This last one is a real nice corker.”
The assistant, a harried looking woman who seemed ecstatic to be finished handling the creatures, snatched the grimeling by the scruff of his neck and popped him in a lidded basket. She handed him to me as I counted out coins to the man. Twelve gold. Steep for the common person, for sure, but I had the feeling that those who visited this particular market weren’t regular folk.
I walked away with the basket on my arm like I was going to a really macabre picnic, and smiled at Nadya. She just stared at the basket.
“Why did you get it?” she asked.
“For you.”
“I don’t want one. I don’t think they’re tame.”
“Aren’t you curious about them?”
“Yes, but, oh.”
“Right. For the lab.”
“I don’t have a lab yet.”
“You will. You’re renting the space.”
“There’s nothing in there.”
“Then I suppose you better hope this guy remains tame once you get him to your house.”
“Not happening. I can’t bring that to my home.”
“Why not?”
“Same reason I couldn’t bring Hellion there. A grimeling is a lot more noticeable than a freakin’ mimic, for one.”
“Maybe it’s the innovation in cleaning you’ve been waiting for.”
“I doubt that very much.”
“Is that because you don’t need to do your own cleaning?”
Our grimeling rustled in its basket, shaking enough that it bumped into Nadya. She let out a very slight yelp. I peeked inside, lifting the lid up ever so slightly. The grimeling had curled into a ball of sorts, and was asleep.
“You think he just drugged them?” I asked.
“Like a sleeping tonic?” she replied. “Maybe. Those don’t often last very long. He’d better be heading out of here quickly if that’s the case.”
“They sold well.”
“People like novelty. Do you want to see the real pitbeasts?”
“Yeah, of course.”
She gave me a bit of a smile, but I sensed some hesitancy as she looked down at the basket. Idly, I thought about how it probably would have been better if I had an idea what regular grimelings were like before I went ahead and purchased one. One I now realized was definitely going to wind up living with me until the lab got set up. I needed to get another point in Intelligence. Or Wisdom. Both, ideally.
The real pitbeasts, as Nadya called them, were inside a large structure tucked against the walls near the entrance to the market. You had to wind your way through a series of curtains to get in, which did an excellent job keeping all the light out. Inside, lights were low and the outside noise was muted to an astonishing degree. It was almost as if we’d somehow made it into the VIP zone. The clientele was different in here as well — they looked more like the people we’d seen at the bar with Matthew, the serious pit folk. Not just people out looking for monsters.
The creatures, as expected, were bigger and badder and in more robust enclosures. The first one we came across was half submerged in water. It had a rotund, almost spherical body balanced over four short stubby legs. Large tentacles wrapped around the body and floated in the water. A final tentacle hung on the top of the creature, and had a very large eye in it. The creature waved its eye-tentacle about, looking at those looking at it. I felt a sense of intelligence to the eye. It really seemed to be paying attention to the world around it. Which could also have just been because it seemed to take an interest in me and stopped to stare at me for a much longer period of time than anyone else in the place.
“Vuilighelm,” Nadya said softly to me. “Lots of people consider it the pitbeast. They grow very big, get territorial. But they eat everything.”
“Do they, uh—”
“Poop out useful stuff? Yeah. I think so, at least. I certainly don’t know everything about pitbeasts, but—”
“You’re learning.”
“Bingo.”
“And you’re about to learn about grimelings, too!”
She frowned at me, then flipped her head around fast enough that I got a face full of pony tail.
I followed her as she moved deeper into the darkness, peering into pits and cages where I saw things that had formerly only populated my nightmares. There were creatures with tentacles, creatures with mouths, creatures covered in mouths, creatures covered in tentacles. There were blobs and oozes, things that looked like fish, things that looked like seals, and even something that looked a lot like an ear of corn, except every single kernel hid a tentacle and a mouth. And then there were things I couldn’t see. Shapes. Feelings. Lots of feelings. I’ve never had the deepest experience with ESP or anything in the realms of the psychic, but in that hall, I had the distinct feeling there were plenty of entities reaching out to touch my brain space. It was not pleasant.
Finally, Nadya seemed to have gotten her fill, and we headed back out into daylight. We’d been in the gloom long enough that it was more than a little painful to walk into the sunlight.
We headed to the exit together, and then stood there awkwardly for a moment.
I held out the grimeling.
She smiled sweetly at me, raised her arm, and hailed an all-too-convenient passing carriage. One that was a deep royal blue. With a wink, she hopped on board, and the driver took off without even asking where she wanted to go.
I had the feeling I’d just been played.
I looked down at the basket holding the sleeping grimeling.
“Just you and me, Gizmo,” I said.
Chapter 104
Standing outside the market, I came to the realization that I missed subways. I missed taxis and busses — okay, I’m not that crazy. I didn’t miss busses. But I certainly could use a means of transportation. I had stables. I needed to fill them with things. Things I could ride and someone else could take care of. That was next on the to-do list. Right after becoming a master thief, mastering magic, rising to the top of the Biscuit’s Union, and a few other things I’d lost track of.
But I was really just getting tired of walking.
At the same time, I suppose all that walking was good for me. Maybe I’d even get a walking skill at some point.
Cool Beans, you’ve uncovered the innate skill: Walking. Now you can walk.
I shook my head. Game world had a sense of humor. That had to be dangerous as all hell. Or hells. Still, might as well put that skill to use. I started walking.
By the time I got to the Heavy Purse, the nightly crowd was in full swing, filling not just the tavern itself but also a goodly portion of the street outside it. There were children playing outside of the bakery, some Glaton version of hopscotch. Or something. I didn’t stop to study the game. But they were having a good time. And watching over them — looming over them more like — was Matthew. I saw his brother-in-law carting a large piece of furniture from a wagon into the second building.
I gave a little wave, then leaned against the wall next to Matthew.
“Place coming together?” I asked.
“Never thought I’d see Titus much again. Now we’re neighbors,” he replied.
“Is that going to be an issue?”
Matthew shook his head, and gave me a small smile. “Not likely. Old friend. Just an odd twist of fate you are.”
“Me?”
“Don’t play stupid — it’s not your game.”
I shrugged.
“Godfrey had pleasant things to say about you.”
“Really?”
“Well, he didn’t say anything negative. That’s usually a glowing review from him.”
“New pit is pretty dull.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“No, but there doesn’t seem like we’ll find much in the way of, uh,—”
“Money?”
“Yeah.”
“You’d be surprised. This is more of a favor, a make-up for the last one.”
“It’s all rocks and mud.”
“Ah, but that’s the good stuff.”
“I’ll just have to remain skeptical.”
“What’s that thing you say? You do you?”
