70 - Slippery Duo
Cold.
That’s how it felt.
The moment Cleo and her friends passed into the trees of the Border Woods, the air felt cold. It wasn’t for a lack of sunlight. The setting sun trailed its light through the canopy, brushing the woodland floor. The plants stretched their leaves towards them to soak up what was left of the precious light before they closed their blossoms for the night. Yet it still seemed awfully dark. An oppressive air seemed to press in on Cleo from all sides and she battled with the instinct to turn and run back the way they’d come.
Harlequin marched on ahead beside Harbinger with confidence, her ears pricked forwards and head high. Cleo and her friends had no choice but to follow. None of them were as familiar with the Border Woods as the former assassins and absol. Enigma followed behind them, keeping a lookout for any ambush from behind. Yet he still walked with his arms folded behind his head, radiating an air of nonchalance. Foliage crunched under their paws and they kept their eyes on the canopy and underbrush for any sign of an assault.
“I’m surprised they’ve not noticed us yet,” said Enigma. “They’re normally much more vigilant than this.”
“Keep your voice down,” Cleo hissed. “And be thankful for it.”
Enigma chuckled, causing his bell to jingle and set Cleo’s neck-fur on end. “I am. I don’t want another brush with death with the murkrow mob.”
“None of us want that,” said Harlequin with some venom.
Enigma glared at the back of the zorua’s head then sighed and turned his attention back to the trees. It was pretty clear he still wasn’t happy with Harlequin’s plan.
“Hopefully we’ll all avoid it if we’re careful,” said Cleo. “I want to get through with this without being attacked.”
“Easy enough to say,” said Spark. “This is their home. They know it like the backs of their claws.” The dedenne paused as she twitched her head back and forth. “What exactly are we gonna do when night falls?”
Cleo clenched her jaw. She’d not really given that much thought. Her default was to just set up her tent and take turns keeping watch, but the more she thought about it the less of a good idea that seemed. “I’m open to suggestions.”
“We usually just hide,” said Harlequin. “If you’re not a member of the Darkness, being nocturnal will just get you killed.”
Spark cast a mournful glance at the wiry undergrowth. “And where exactly would we hide? I mean, there could be assassins lurking anywhere.”
“Yes, there could be,” said Harlequin. “But I’d suggest an old burrow or a hollowed tree. Somewhere with a back exit so we can flee if we fall under attack. Even a thick bush would suffice.”
Cleo’s skin prickled as her fur rose along her spine and tails.
Spark shuddered on her shoulder and ducked into her ruff. “Staying awake seems like the safest bet.”
“We could always find the outlaws?” Harbinger suggested with a sideways glare at Harlequin. “Like we originally planned?”
Harlequin met his glare with one of her own but said nothing.
“Some of them even live inside buildings,” Harbinger went on. “And they’re well protected.”
“Doesn’t that make them stand out?” Faith asked.
“Yes, but a wall is better protection against a murkrow’s claws,” said Harbinger.
“That makes sense,” said Spark. “And I guess with the Wildfires gone they don’t exactly have to worry about it being burned down.”
“Dragons breathe fire you know,” said Cleo.
Spark swished her tail. “Let me live in my happy place for one moment?”
“So if not all outlaws live in buildings,” said Faith, “I imagine the others hide? Where did you live, Harlequin?”
“I grew up beneath a tree,” said the zorua.
“That sounds nice,” said Faith. “Some of the pokemon in the Fairy Garden like to live wild. Do you ever miss it?”
“Nope.” Harlequin didn’t look back but Cleo thought she saw a sombre look cross the zorua’s face. Harlequin picked up her pace, causing Harbinger to trot beside her.
Enigma shifted uneasily and he met Spark’s stare. The dedenne had turned fully to face him, her arms folded.
“Don’t look at me,” said the banette. “He never tells me anything.”
Harlequin faltered with one paw in the air. Her ears pulled back against her head. “Enigma?”
Enigma looked at her over Cleo’s shoulder, prompting her to continue.
Instead, Harlequin flicked her tongue over her nose and turned away from him. “Never mind.”
Enigma rolled his eyes and returned to scouting the canopy.
Silence fell over them as they pressed on through the rapidly darkening woodland. Cleo found her gaze wandering to what she could see of the sky through the branches. It had turned a deep blue, smeared by fluffy clouds that were dyed red around the lower edges. Cleo’s heart rate increased and she began searching out the foliage in preparation for them all to hide.
“How big are these woods?” Spark asked quietly.
“Huge.” It was Mischief who’d answered. He followed behind Cleo, keeping pace with Faith, his attention on the floor as he stepped carefully around the brittle plants and fallen twigs.
“It goes on for miles,” Harbinger explained, “before it finally ends at the Shadow Lands.”
“Wow,” said Spark. “So it could take us…” The dedenne counted on her claws and her brow furrowed with thought.
“If we keep going at this pace and don’t sleep…” Harbinger glanced up at the canopy. “We should be there after sunrise. If we sleep, then after sunset tomorrow.”
Spark’s shoulders sank. “Yikes.”
“Sunrise would be better,” said Harlequin. “Most of the Shadow Lands will be asleep by then, and the morning watch will still be dozy. Easier to sneak in.”
“Then our problem will be walking in the dark,” said Enigma. “Two of us have a glaring weakness to the Darkness.”
“And all of us are trained to fight it.” Harlequin cast him a glare over her shoulder. “We’ll be fine.”
Enigma exchanged a worried glance with Harbinger. “Anyone can be caught off-guard, Harle.”
“Enigma’s right,” said Faith. “We might be able to use fairy-type moves but we’re not indestructible.”
Harlequin shook her head and her canines glinted in the waning light. “Then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
...
Tinker had slept fitfully. Every small sound had woken him, filling him with dread. Each time he’d thought he’d woken to New City under attack, only to find himself in an unfamiliar, cold and damp nest room. When he’d seen Starshine dozing in a nest of straw, the riolu had rolled over and tried to summon sleep. But the musty, unfamiliar scents wafting off the coarse, stale hay had done little to placate him.
It was little surprise that when morning came he’d yawned throughout his breakfast. The outlaws had been cheerful enough to see him, but the grovyle and her Heretic companions had viewed him with suspicion. They knew his story. He’d given it two days before. They’d listened and nodded and not pressed for details, but Tinker could tell they had questions. Why come to the outlaws? Why not look to the Outcasts for help? Surely he had friends?
He didn’t know their story, though. They’d been quiet, but a few of them still sported scars that looked too fresh. The raichu wore three long scars on his shoulder and the lightning bolt on his tail had a piece taken out of it. The vigoroth wore the worst of them and even had a missing ear, while the grovyle sported a few ragged leaves on her arms and a scar from her left eye that trailed over the right side of her muzzle. They definitely had a story to tell. But was it the Darkness or had they got into scrapes with the Outcasts? Or something else entirely?
Tinker tore a chunk out of his jerky and stared blankly across the table. The silence was unbearable, and Starshine was absent yet again. He could hear the thuds from above ground. The altaria was training with Ripwing again. The salamence had taken a strong interest in Starshine and it set Tinker on edge.
“Not gonna eat that?”
Gemly’s gritty voice snatched Tinker back into the present. His jerky hung from his claws, only one bite taken out of it. Tinker realised all too suddenly that he’d been robbed of his appetite. With a sigh he dropped it back onto his plate and pushed it towards the staring sableye. Gemly tucked into the mix of jerky and stale bread with relish.
Mint grunted from further down the table. “Must be pretty weird suddenly finding yourself among those you long considered enemies, huh?”
Tinker narrowed his eyes at the grovyle. She sat between Tantrum and Razorclaw, the latter of who was slicing berries with his long claws to offer to the quiet minun. Tinker hadn’t heard the rodent speak at all the past two days. Tinker felt oddly drawn to him. He seemed as on edge and out of place as Tinker felt. All he knew about the rodent was his name - Spelon. The sandslash was the only one showing Spelon any care. The two other electric types - Thunder and Ray - sat on his other side in some debate Tinker didn’t care about, their breakfasts ignored.
When Tinker looked back at the grovyle he found her still staring at him with her head resting on one paw. The riolu closed his eyes briefly and sighed. “As much as it may surprise you, I didn’t know that any dark- or dragon-types had defected away from Hydreigon.”
“Yet you knew that some of your Outcasts had defected away from the Guild to form what you call ‘Heretics’?” She raised her free paw to form air quotes.
Tinker suppressed a low growl rising in his throat. “You defected to pander to the Darkness.”
“It’s called survival.”
“It’s called betrayal!” Tinker flashed a canine. “You Heretics sold out so many settlements to that dragon!”
Mint let out a single laugh. “I didn’t sell out a single one.”
Tinker forced his fur flat and sighed again. “Well… whatever the case, you still haven’t told me what you’re doing here with the outlaws.”
“Why should we?” A smile quirked the edge of Mint’s mouth, creasing the jagged scar over her muzzle. “Worried we’re trying to convert them back to Hydreigon?”
Tantrum raised his head from his plate and wiped his mouth on the back of his paw. “We’re not doin’-”
Mint shoved a sharp elbow into the vigoroth’s ribs, silencing his words into a squeak. “Stop it. I wanna see him squirm some more.”
“I like things that squirm!” Gemly looked between Tinker and Mint. “Like when you grab a caterpie by the head and it’s all squirmy.”
Tinker jerked his head towards the sableye. “That’s abhorrent! Why would you do something like that?”
Gemly’s eyes sparkled with innocence. “What? It’s not like I’m gonna hurt it! I just like the way their little legs wriggle.” He raised a paw and wiggled his long claws.
Tinker lowered his head into his paws to massage his temples. “I’m going to lose my sanity in this place.”
“You can always go back to the Outcasts,” said Mint. “Starshine’s safe with us.”
Tinker scoffed and frowned at the grovyle. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving him here until I know for certain he is safe.”
“Worried we’re gonna convert him too?”
Tantrum scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Stop teasin’ ‘im, Mint. It ain’t nice.” The vigoroth caught Tinker’s eye. “We ain’t gonna hurt ya li’l kid, riolu. None of us here want nothin’ to do with that Hydreigon.”
“Really?” Tinker’s brow furrowed. “Then why join the Heretics?”
“Believe it or not, Tinker, the Darkness don’t care for the ‘Eretics,” Tantrum went on. “It just means ya last a little while longer. Some are still blind to that and think they’re safe, but some of us learned the ‘ard way that ain’t true.”
His words were met with nods from his allies, while Spelon whimpered and wiped his large eyes on the back of his tiny paws. Razorclaw placed a comforting paw on the minun’s back, but it did little to placate the smaller pokemon.
Tinker made a thoughtful noise. It was no news to him the Heretics were a bunch of blind fools, but to find some that were actually aware of that had come as some surprise.
Mint cast Spelon a sideways glance and pushed herself from the table. She fixed her amber eyes on Tinker and nodded to the stairs. “Why don’t we go for a walk? I can explain more outside.”
Tinker looked back at the minun again who was huddled over in floods of silent tears. He gave Mint a nod of understanding and followed the grovyle up the stone stairs. The sunlight stung his eyes and he raised his paw to shield them as they stepped out of the ruin into the clearing.
Ripwing stood at the far side, explaining something to Starshine. The altaria nodded his small head as he clung onto the salamence’s every word. If Starshine noticed Tinker leave the ruin he didn’t show it, but Ripwing gave the riolu a wink of greeting which Tinker returned with a nod.
Mint steered Tinker by the elbow into the trees, and the cool shade enveloped him. They didn’t move too far away from the ruin, and Tinker could still see Ripwing and Starshine through the trees, their blue forms moving back and forth as Ripwing instructed Starshine on how to build up his speed.
“You wanna know why we joined Ripwing?” Mint asked, drawing Tinker’s eye. She leant against a tree with her arms folded, her expression stoic. “The same reason as you. We had nowhere else to go.”
Tinker folded his own arms and shifted his weight to one leg. “I’m going to assume it wasn’t because the Heretics didn’t want you?”
“We moved away from the Heretics years ago,” said Mint. “And we’ve been in contact with Ripwing for a long time. We’ve been working together to try and find a way to eradicate the Darkness, although I was a little unsure of the way things were going.” She scratched the base of her head leaf and looked away. Tinker thought he heard her breath shake and she started muttering incoherently to herself.
Tinker inclined his head on one side. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that last part.”
Mint shook her head as if dispelling a bad thought and snapped her attention back onto Tinker with such intensity he flinched. “We’re not in a good way, my friends and I. If you can’t tell, we ran into some scrapes on our way here and some of us don’t like to discuss what happened.”
“To be honest, I’d guessed you’d been in a fight. So have you brought me out into the open to explain why you’re here, or to tell me to stop prying?”
Mint bit her lip and looked away from him. “We lost Spelon’s brother in a weavile ambush at the start of the cold season. He’s taken it pretty bad.”
“I’m sorry.” Tinker actually meant it, even if it came out harsher than he’d intended. He shook his head at the glare Mint threw at him and raised a paw in defeat. “I won’t mention it again.” He turned to head back towards the ruin.
“That’s not why I brought you out here.”
Tinker looked back at the grovyle. She jerked her head towards a large thorn bush beside the tree and ducked into it. Tinker sighed and followed after her. He almost stumbled into a large burrow, situated under a tangle of roots. The entire structure was hidden away by the thorn bush that wound on over their heads, blocking out the light with its closely growing leaves. Mint stood in the burrow with her claws latched around the edge of a huge stone. Tinker’s gaze wandered over it as his mouth opened slightly. It was all too familiar… so much like New City.
Mint looked back at him over her shoulder, her muzzle creased with exertion. “A little help here? I’m not exactly a dragon.”
Tinker climbed into the burrow and joined Mint and together they pulled the stone aside. Tinker’s shoulders strained until he felt one pop, but he didn’t released the stone. He felt it budge as something clicked beyond it. With a sudden surprising ease, the heavy stone rolled through the ground silently, disturbing soil around its edges. Tinker stood rubbing his shoulder as he stared into the dark depths. A steep slope lead away from them with well-trodden footholds, leading down into the shadows deep underground. Dim torchlight flickered further on from a wooden torch that was in clear need of replacing. The similarities to New City were uncanny, albeit rather primitive in comparison. The stone was much easier to roll back into place, and it latched itself back into whatever hidden mechanism held it there.
“It leads under the ruin,” Mint explained as she lead Tinker down the slope. “You can get to it from inside, but this entrance is used by Ripwing.”
“Then why not take me the other way?” Tinker asked.
“Because I needed to explain about what happened to Rowap, and I didn’t want Spelon overhearing me.” She paused for a moment, muttering to herself again, but Tinker couldn’t see her face.
“Is he the only one you’ve lost?” Tinker could already guess the answer.
“No.”
The riolu nodded stiffly. That had come as no surprise.
The tunnel ended at a bend and Mint reached into a pouch on her belt and pulled out a heavy key. She unlocked the door and lead Tinker into a wide room. It was made of the same stone as the ruin, albeit very damp and with black mold growing up the walls, or what one could see of it. Most of the wall space was taken up by shelves containing folders, glass vials and bottles, and other bits and pieces Tinker could have had a field day with. Tables squatted against all three walls with lab equipment bubbling away. A pink substance was carried along tubes that dispensed it into small vials. Excitement and curiosity pulsed through Tinker as he took it all in, but only one thing stood in the way of him rushing to examine it all.
A morpeko stood at one of the tables collecting the vials and organising them in neat rows in a wooden rack. Her fur was dark and bristled out at all angles. She looked up as they entered, her face contorted and eyes flashing red. Tinker took a step back, his heart pounding, watching the electricity sputtering from the rodent’s cheek pouches.
“Go and get something to eat,” said Mint. “We’ll take over.”
The morpeko didn’t need telling twice. She went through a door in the far wall, slamming it behind her.
“And I thought Spark was scary when she was hungry,” Tinker said to himself. He turned his attention back on the lab equipment. He was certain he’d seen the pink stuff before. “What is this?”
“Pokerus.” Mint picked up one of the vials and turned it in the light.
“P-pokerus!” Tinker stuttered, freezing to the spot.
“This is what we’ve been cultivating,” Mint explained. “A mutated strain that pushes a pokemon’s strength beyond its normal limits. Our plan was to create an army and unleash it in the Shadow Lands. But… it was sadly flawed.”
“I’d say!” Tinker forced himself to approach Mint, and he took the vial from her claws. “One of my Guild warriors came across one of your experiments.”
“A whimsicott?”
Tinker met the grovyle’s eyes. “Yes.”
“I had nothing to do with him.” Mint retrieved the vial and set it back with the others in its wooden rack. “He was Rio’s experiment.”
Tinker folded his arms, but Mint was preoccupied with re-organising the vials. “I don’t know what this Rio is doing, but I’d be inclined to say that infecting pokemon with this… pokerus… essentially turning them into unstable weapons and unleashing them on the Shadow Lands is not the best idea someone has come up with. The repercussions, for one thing-”
“I already know all that!”
“So why is it all here?!” Tinker threw out his arms to indicate the room. “Are you planning on infecting more pokemon? Starshine?!”
“Of course we’re not!” Mint snapped.
Tinker’s jaw flapped wordlessly as he met the grovyle’s livid stare.
“We’re not turning anyone else into weapons.” She sighed and sank back against the table, dragging her paws down her face. “Do you think cleaning up Rio’s mess is easy? We’ve not found a single one of his experiments, yet so many were released into the Moorlands Forest. Even beyond it.” She let her paws fall weakly at her sides. “We’re trying to fix this before we offer it to other pokemon. We want to make it…” she waved a paw towards the equipment, “better.”
Tinker grunted. “I’d say you’re better off making a cure.”
“We’re looking into that, too.”
Tinker’s eyes widened. “Impressive. And how do you plan to test this cure?”
Mint said nothing, rubbing one paw up and down her arm.
Tinker looked her up and down and his brow furrowed. “You’ve infected yourself?”
“Like I said, I’m trying to fix things.”
“Wow.” Tinker stood back to take in the room again as if seeing it for the first time. “Are you making any progress?”
“It’s early days.” Mint turned back to re-organising the vials. “We’ve made no progress so far, but… we might have an idea.”
“Care to share it?”
“Poison.”
Tinker’s eyes widened. “Poison? But… you’re a grass-type. Won’t that-?”
“Make me ill? Yes. But it would with anyone who didn’t resist poison.”
“You more-so, surely?”
Mint stopped what she was doing and leant forwards on the table. She dug her claws into the wood until her knuckles turned white. “I’ve stopped caring.”
A heavy silence fell over the room, save for the gurgling of the science equipment. Tinker thought he could see tears shimmering in her eyes. After a moment, Mint loosened her grip on the table with a sigh and reached out to retrieve one of the freshly filled vials.
“Rio’s plan was flawed, for sure,” she said. “But his biggest flaw was infecting Enigma.”
Tinker blinked a few times and took a step towards her. “Enigma?”
Mint nodded. “Stupid mistake. Foolish. He…” Mint swallowed and steadied herself on the table again. Her words faded off into yet more muttering and Tinker began to wonder if it was the pokerus taking effect. He braced himself for an outburst that didn’t come. Instead, he found himself musing over Mint’s words as she muttered incoherently to herself as she stiffly returned to her task.
Mint had told him that Spelon’s brother wasn’t their only casualty. She was trembling too much to continue her explanation, and her actions had turned methodical as she returned to organising and re-organising the vials. It dawned on Tinker what she’d been trying to say. Rio had infected Enigma, a notorious assassin. Rio’s biggest flaw.
Tinker closed his eyes briefly and moved closer to the grovyle until he was at her side. “Did Enigma kill him?”
Mint nodded stiffly but didn’t stop her obsessive organising. “Rio was an idiot. No…” She shook her head sharply and let her paws rest on the table. “I just… wish he’d listened to me. That I’d been able to convince him it was a mistake.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, Mint. The Darkness can force any of us into rash decisions.” He took a breath, wondering if he should even breach the next question. “Was he your mate?”
Mint returned to the vials once more. Tears shone in her eyes and she paused to wipe them away. A few long, tense moments passed and Tinker thought she wasn’t going to answer. His gaze wandered to the door and he felt his feet move towards it, but Mint’s voice nuked his sudden awkwardness, thick and heavy with repressed sobs.
“A long time ago. Before he lost it.”
Tinker nodded and fidgeted on the spot. “I’m terribly sorry.”
Mint shrugged and swallowed audibly. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”
Tinker had no response for that. As he searched his mind for one he couldn’t help letting his eye wander over the equipment again. It really was spectacular. The scientist in him itched to investigate it further.
A cure. A cure for this pokerus. His mind suddenly flickered to Cleo. To Mischief. The naive whimsicott who’d gone off to find a cure. Tinker knew Mischief feared hurting his friends… no, he feared hurting Cleo. Tinker’s heart clenched and he balled his fists at his sides.
“Let me help you?”
Mint stopped what she was doing and looked up at him. “You… want to help?” A scoff laced her words but amusement lit up in her amber eyes.
“That whimsicott… Mischief. He’s very important to a friend of mine.” Tinker met the grovyle’s warm gaze. “If we can save him it would mean a lot to me. So please… let me help you?”
...
Cleo yawned as she left the large bush. She rubbed a paw at the heavy rings forming under her eyes. She hadn’t slept a wink. Any time she’d felt herself drifting off a murkrow cawed in the distance, or the branches shifted overhead. Her fur had been on end most of the night and as she smoothed it back with a paw it stung. Spark didn’t look much better. Ordinarily the dedenne could sleep through an earthquake, but she’d been on edge alongside Cleo, her huge dish-like ears pricked and trained on the world outside.
Harbinger had slept at the entrance to the bush while Enigma kept watch. The banette had insisted, since he wouldn’t have slept anyway. Keeping invisible, he’d sat outside the bush. He’d even removed his bell, letting Faith look after it. Why Faith Cleo hadn’t asked. The mawile was already outside, sitting under a tree with Enigma sharing berries.
Harlequin lumbered from the bush behind her and shook out her shaggy coat. The zorua’s jaws opened in a wide yawn, showing two rows of sharp teeth.
“Mornin’,” Harlequin mumbled, raising a paw to rub her face. “Could use a drink.”
“We’re not far from the river.” Cleo looked behind her through the trees. She couldn’t see the river but she could hear it as it raced away from the Shadow Lands. “We could detour?”
Harlequin didn’t need telling twice. She turned and strolled past the bush towards the river. Enigma watched her for a moment then muttered an apology to Faith as he took off after his friend.
Cleo let out a sigh of relief. As much as Harlequin was familiar with the Border Woods she was a wanted fugitive now. If she put a foot wrong she’d be quickly outnumbered. Cleo went to join Faith, and Mischief stumbled out of the bush behind her. The whimsicott flopped forwards and landed face-first in the dirt.
“I’m so sorry!” Cleo gasped as she rushed to his side.
He stood up and adjusted his collar before wiping dust from his face. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not,” said Cleo. “I forgot. I…” She grit her teeth and stood up. “I don’t know why. There’s no excuse. I didn’t sleep.”
“Neither did I.” Mischief joined Faith and slumped down beside the mawile. He took an offered berry with a mutter of thanks.
“I don’t think many of us slept,” said Faith quietly. “I didn’t. It feels so strange being so close to the Shadow Lands.”
The mawile’s usual smile was absent, and her jaw was tense. Her violet eyes kept flitting back and forth as if she was expecting someone to jump out at her at any given moment. If Cleo didn’t know any better she’d think Faith was paranoid.
Cleo considered sitting down to join her friends but her legs wouldn’t obey. Her stomach felt iffy and she diverted her gaze from the berries. Spark leapt from her shoulder and helped herself to one.
“Do you think Harlequin’s okay?” Spark asked.
“Yes,” said Faith. “She’s with Enigma.”
“No, I mean…” Spark paused to swallow a mouthful of apicot, then tapped herself on the head.
Faith’s eyes widened. “That’s not very nice, Spark.”
“No, I…” Spark’s ears drooped and she looked away. “I guess not.”
“I can see where Spark’s coming from.” Cleo joined Faith’s side and idly took a piece of fish offered to her. She sank back against a tree and turned the fish in her paws. It left a salty residue on her pads. “Harlequin’s plan has promise but it feels… messy.”
Faith sat back on her paws and sighed. “I’ve had my doubts from the start. I still think we should find the outlaws first.”
“But if we do, Harlequin will just go off on her own,” said Spark. “I don’t like that.”
“He won’t be alone,” said Mischief bluntly.
Cleo was about to snap back at him but the foliage rustled and they all looked up as Harbinger pushed his way through a thick patch of bracken. He looked past them and froze with one paw in the air. “Where’s Harlequin?”
“Getting water,” said Cleo.
“Oh.” He looked past the bush towards the river then sat down. “I’ve scouted ahead. There are a lot of sentries based closer to the Shadow Lands. We’ll need to take a diversion through the swamp. But I doubt we’ll avoid detection.”
Cleo grimaced and Faith visibly flinched.
“It was inevitable we’d run into a fight,” said Cleo.
“Several fights if we’re not careful,” said Harbinger. “The deeper we go into these woods the higher the risk. I’ve not seen so many murkrow in a while.” He nodded back the way he’d come. “The trees are filled with them, many of which are performing aerial activities as if preparing for a battle. Not an uncommon sight, but Yurlik’s flocks are known for being lazy. I won’t be surprised if they spread out across the woods before too long.”
“So we should move?” Cleo stuffed her fish into her bag and kicked back from her tree.
“Move where?” Harlequin nosed through the bracken and gave Harbinger a friendly nod. Enigma trailed behind her with his paws tucked behind his head.
“Away from here,” said Harbinger. “Before the murkrow find us.”
Harlequin snorted and adjusted her bag. “The faster we move the faster we’re done.”
“Harbinger suggested we detour through the swamp,” said Cleo. “Do you know where that is?”
“Yes.” Harlequin sat down heavily and frowned. “And it’ll add an extra day onto our journey at least.” She looked up at the absol. “Why do you want to go that way?”
“Less sentries,” he said.
Harlequin muttered, but she gave a stiff nod.
“There may also be outlaws living near there,” Harbinger went on. When Harlequin opened her mouth to retort he cut her off with a shake of his head. “They know these woods better than any of us. They live here. They’ll know where the sentries tend to stick to.”
“He’s got a point, Harle,” said Enigma. “If we want to avoid any unnecessary fights we need to play it safe.”
Harlequin sighed and narrowed her eyes at Enigma. “I wasn’t going to say otherwise. I agree with you.” She rose to her feet and shook water off her whiskers. “A fight would only slow us down. If we’re finished eating, let’s go.”
Faith helped Cleo to clear up their provisions and they grouped together to follow Harlequin towards the swamp. Harbinger kept pace at her side, his head raised and alert. Cleo was on edge. Every shift of a leaf or sway of a branch drew her eye to the canopy. She could hear the murkrow in the distance, their caws growing more frequent and authoritative.
Harlequin took them off the path through a patch of thistles. They did little to disturb Harlequin but sharp leaves clung to her shaggy coat. Enigma took to the trees, avoiding the stinging plants. But Cleo’s hide was much less resilient. She flinched, stifling a yowl of protest as she forced her way through the tall, tormenting thistles. On the other side the ground began to grow boggy. Thick patches of moss spread out across the clearing, dusted with pine needles.
The moss sucked at their paws as they trudged over it, hugging the tree line. The pines cast long shadows across the mossy clearing, the bark oozing where pokemon - outlaws, possibly - had scratched them to get at the sap. The fresh scent filled the air, masking anything else. It set Cleo’s fur on end, and Harlequin who relied on her nose slowed a little, searching the shadows with large sapphire eyes. It seemed to take an eternity to reach the other side of the clearing. Harbinger stopped before the trees, his stiff tail raising into the air. His hackles rose, fur spiking along his spine.
Harlequin froze beside him, sniffing the air, her ears pricked. “Urgh, all I can smell is this wretched pine!”
“But someone’s definitely there,” said Harbinger. “Brace yourselves. We don’t know if they’re friend or foe.”
Psychic energy hummed in Cleo’s ears, and Spark’s whiskers crackled, sending static down Cleo’s shoulder. Mischief clenched his fists, and Faith tensed, her violet eyes trained on the trees.
A tall reptile crept out from the ferns, leaving a sticky substance clinging to the leaves. Her eyes were wide and she raised her paws which dripped with slime. A smaller snail-like pokemon joined her side, his expression twinning that of his friend.
“Don’t hurt us!” the goodra pleaded in a thick, gooey voice. “We’re not your enemy.”
“Then what are you doing lurking in the bushes, spying?” Harbinger demanded.
“Spying?” The sliggoo’s voice was high yet carried that same gooey consistency. “We were hiding! We were just breakfasting on pine sap when we heard someone coming.”
“But it was you,” the goodra finished. She fixed Harlequin with an imploring stare. “We know you don’t work for the Darkness anymore. So what are you doing back here?”
Harlequin narrowed her eyes. “Why would I tell you? I don’t know if we can trust you.”
Harbinger grunted at the goodra’s surprise. “We haven’t run into any trouble yet. But something about you doesn’t seem right.”
He lowered his horn towards the dragon and she stumbled back, raising her paws before her face. “Oh no please don’t hurt us!”
“We’re outlaws!” the sliggoo whimpered. “And… and we know you, Harlequin.”
Harlequin stiffened. “What?”
“We were goomy at the time,” Slip went on. “We lived in the swamp, when you were training with Alia.”
“Alia…” Harlequin gasped. She took a step forwards. “You were alive then? So you know what happened-”
Harbinger growled and took a step towards them, blocking Harlequin’s path. “Then where are the rest of you outlaws?”
“They don’t like us,” said the goodra. “Because… because we’re slimy.”
Harbinger didn’t back down. His red eyes remained locked on the quaking dragons. Cleo’s heart raced as she braced herself to unleash an attack. But the two dragons didn’t seem threatening anymore.
Faith stepped towards them and placed a paw on the absol’s shoulder. “I think we can trust them, Harbinger.”
The absol continued to stare at them as he reluctantly withdrew his horn. The goodra stood up, still huddled over, her eyes wide as she met Harbinger’s.
“I’m Faith.” The mawile held out a paw but the dragon didn’t take it. “What are your names?”
“Slip,” said the goodra as a glob of slime dribbled down her chin. “And this is Snails.”
The sliggoo raised his tail in a wave.
“All right.” Harlequin stood back, her expression softening slightly. “I believe you’re outlaws. But when I grew up here, goodra weren’t excluded from the swamp. You’d all help the pokemon there by allowing them to collect your slime. So what’s changed? Why would the outlaws shun you now?”
Slip gave a weak shrug and exchanged glances with Snails. “Because we leave slime everywhere.”
“It gives us away,” said Snails. “Every time they were tracked down, they’d blame us.”
Harlequin nodded. “I suppose I understand. Although that’s cold.”
Slip shrugged again.
“Would you be willing to help us?” Harlequin asked.
Harbinger gave her a warning glance and Enigma stepped forwards, his bell jingling. The sound sent a chill through the two dragons and they cowered back, their eyes snapping onto the banette.
“These aren’t our enemies,” said Cleo, joining Faith’s side. She looked up at Enigma who’s frown told her he didn’t trust the two dragons remotely. “Why would they be afraid of you if they were our enemies?”
“Because I don’t work for the Darkness anymore,” Enigma said flatly. “And they know it.”
Harlequin turned her head to look at Enigma. “All poison-types were excluded from the Shadow Lands, Enigma. They were wiped out.”
Enigma’s glare was still fixed on the dragons. “Goodra aren’t poison-types.”
Harlequin sighed and shook her head. “They were treated as such in the swamp village. Believe me, I know.” She turned back to the dragons. “Tell us. How guarded are the walls to the Shadow Lands right now?”
Slip’s eyes widened and Snails let out a gasp. “Very guarded!”
Harlequin made a thoughtful noise and glanced away. “Then we’ll need to find a way in without being seen. I suppose I’ll need to use my illusion after all. The question is…” She looked back at her friends. “What about you?”
“You’re going in?” Slip squeaked. “That’s madness!”
“They’ll kill you all!” Snails added. “And us too if they find out we helped you!”
“Not if we’re careful.” Harlequin turned towards them. “And you don’t have to come with me. You just have to tell me the way in.”
A look of uncertainty crossed the two dragons’ faces and Slip diverted her eyes, either in thought or anxiety, it was hard to say.
“Which area is guarded the least?” Harlequin asked. “Any idea?”
“We don’t get close enough,” said Slip. “But… we might know a way in which isn’t guarded. The problem is… you aren’t a water-type.” She looked up at Harlequin’s friends. “None of you are.”
“Yeah, I don’t mix well with water,” said Spark.
Harlequin raised her head and Cleo felt a chill run down her spine.
“There’s another way?” Harlequin asked. “Where?”
“The swamp.” Slip turned and motioned for them to follow. “I can show you, but I doubt you’ll like it.”
“Wait.” Harbinger trotted ahead of them and stood before the goodra, cutting off her path. “This all seems too easy. We’re not going with you until you tell us more details.”
“Harbie-”
“No, Harlequin.” Harbinger narrowed his eyes at the zorua. “We don’t know these pokemon.”
“But they said they know me,” said Harlequin. “If they lived in the same swamp as Alia-”
“It’s too easy. And the whole of Estellis knows who you are!”
“But they don’t know where I trained!”
Harbinger looked from Harlequin to the others, and his gaze rested on Enigma. The banette shifted uneasily, but the frown on his face said it all. He hadn’t known either.
Harbinger snorted and turned back to the two dragons. “Where is this place? Where does it lead?”
“There’s an old burrow,” Slip explained. “It was used by toxicroak, years ago, when the poison-types were planning a revolt.”
Harbinger looked to Harlequin again and her eyes widened. “I remember that… But it all went wrong. It happened after…” She trailed off and looked away from the absol.
Harbinger nodded at the dragons to continue.
“They managed to burrow all the way into the lake in the Shadow Lands,” Slip went on. “But they were caught, then…” The goodra screwed her eyes shut and sucked in a breath. “Then the Darkness turned on the swamp and finished us off.”
Faith covered her muzzle with her paws. “Goodness!”
“We can take you to it,” said Slip, looking up at them. “But we go no further.”
“Of course,” said Harlequin. “Please, lead the way.”
The two dragons pushed their way through the ferns, leaving stringy slime clinging to the fronds like an ariados’ web.
Harbinger stuck his paw out before Harlequin and the zorua raised an eyebrow at him.
“I still don’t trust them,” said Harbinger. “Something seems off.”
“Well I’m going with them,” said Harlequin. “If this works, Harbie…”
The absol sighed and retracted his paw. “Fine.” He stood back to let Harlequin duck through the ferns. “But I’m staying on my guard.”
Enigma joined the absol’s side. “So am I, big guy. Don’t worry.”
Harbinger leered at him then ducked through the ferns after Harlequin.
Enigma shrugged at the others. “You try to be supportive, you get a leer.”
Faith shook her head and followed the others, picking her way through the slimy trail. Enigma grimaced and made an audible ‘eugh’ before warping on ahead of it, leaving the others to push their way through. Cleo grimaced as it clung to her fur, and Spark’s nose crinkled with disgust.
“Glad I’m up here,” she said with a twitch of her whiskers.
Cleo gave a playful tut, but something glinted in the murky sunlight on her right. She turned her head towards the trees and faltered. The empty branches swayed as the wind shook them, rustling the pine needles. But she could have sworn there was something there, watching her. A pair of yellow eyes hovering beneath the branches.
“Are you okay?” Spark asked.
“I thought I saw…” Cleo shook her head and turned away, following after Mischief’s fluffy back. “I guess I’m just anxious. But let’s not let our guards down.”