The Bad Guys Chronicles: Books 1-3 by Eric Ugland

Author:Eric Ugland [Ugland, Eric]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Air Quotes Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2020-03-22T22:00:00+00:00

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.

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