Flash Fiction: Enter the Grimm October 2, 2009Posted by techtigger in flash fiction.
Tags: #fridayflash, flash fiction, Nox and Grimm
This story is the first of a weekly series, updated every friday.
It was midnight, and Nox was in a graveyard that had been built over the crossroads of an old stagecoach trail. She had flax seeds clenched in one hand to keep down the unquiet dead, only a flick of the wrist was needed to scatter them over a grave. Not that they would work on the one she was here to see, he was neither dead, nor entirely alive. But she knew his name. And she knew he would answer her call.
Near the gate a vague shape formed, barely visible under the dim light of the stars. The church grimm was here, guardian of the paths between the living and the dead. And he was playing hard to get. Her aura crackled with the intensity of the energy she put into the call.
“Grimmalkyn, show yourself!”
A slight breeze ruffled her hair, and a mix of amusement and annoyance flickered in her dark blue eyes. He’d always had a flair for the dramatic (or melodramatic, as she had often teased) and this place certainly fit the bill.
“Grimm, if you don’t get your furry butt out here I am going to eat all of these doughnuts myself.”
The deep, rumbling voice of the grimm echoed in the back of her mind. “You know the rules, call thrice and I shall appear. Or bring doughnuts. I see you did both, well played.” The massive, spectral hound appeared right in front of her and sniffed at the bag in her hand. “Ooh, boston crème!”
Nox rolled her eyes. “Yes, you bottomless pit, I brought your favorite.” She pulled them back away from him as he tried to eat them, bag and all. “Ah, ah, wait for it, I have something even better.”
His ears perked up. “News?”
She nodded. “News. It seems my father thinks I’ll be needing you more than he does. Apparently I pissed off some pretty hard-core cultists.”
He made another unsuccessful attempt to snatch the bag, and glared sourly at her. “You? Irritate someone? Never.” He heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Well then, transfer the binding and I am yours to command.”
She opened up the bag and set it down in front of him, the sweet, sugary smell making his nose twitch. “I, Nox, bind myself to you, guardian Grimmalkyn, but only if you choose to allow it.” She grinned impishly at him. “What do you say?”
He eyedher warily. “Those are not the words. What are you up to, little one?”
“I refuse to bind a friend. As of this moment, you are free of any debts due to my family.”
The ancient spirit gave the tiny woman a long look. He could already feel the old bonds slipping away, and something new and unusual begin to form. She wasn’t joking, he was actually free! And she had called him a friend… Well, there was a first time for everything. Why not? And with Nox, his half-life would never be dull. He snapped up the doughnuts, thoughtfully leaving one for her. “Your father is going to kill you for this.”
She shrugged and picked up the last doughnut. “Only if the cultists don’t get me first.”
He chuckled, standing protectively by her side. “No fear of that, little one. Not while I’m with you.”