22 – Setbacks

"Does the map say anything?"

Spark peered down at the scroll from Cleo's shoulders. The meowstic held it between both paws, wondering if she was holding it at the correct angle. The Moorland's Forest was behind them but ahead of them after this vast plain were more trees. The map had 'Endless Woods' scrawled onto it. The plain itself had no name given, likely because it had long since been forgotten about. The ruins weren't on the map either, which made it hard for her to orient herself. Cleo made a mental note to mark it down the next time they found somewhere to rest.

She looked up from the map at the trees dotting the horizon. "I guess that must be the Endless Woods."

"You guess?" Spark raised an eyebrow.

"Well the ruins aren't on this map." Cleo looked back down at it with a frown. "And this plain apparently has trees all around it, which I sincerely doubt is the case. This area seems to be an error." She prodded their location on the map. "If we head the wrong way... then we're going to get lost."

"I thought we were going after Mischief?"

"We are. But we don't know which way he ran."

Spark clicked her tongue. "So... isn't this a little pointless?"

"No." Cleo rolled up the map and stuffed it back into her satchel. "If he'd gone back the way we came and was back to his normal self which is very likely by this point, he'd have rejoined us by now. We've not come very far. If he's gone ahead of us, then he's going to be somewhere in this plain, or lost in the Endless Woods."

"Well, if they really are endless..."

"This is no time for jokes, Spark." Cleo pushed herself onwards. "This has become a setback and we need to find him."

Harlequin snorted but Cleo ignored her. She'd not had much to say since their little argument earlier and Spark was giving the zorua even more of a cold shoulder than usual. There was no time for arguing now, anyway. Mischief was lost and one thing worried her greatly. If Enigma was still out there and had recovered enough of his strength, then they were all in a lot of danger.

However, the latter was unlikely. Cleo had seen the state of the banette when she lifted Mischief off him. Her eyes might have been blurred by weakness, but it was very clear he was in no fit state to go on battling.

Cleo faltered as her eye caught sight of something on the grass. Something red and sticky. Her paw hovered over it for a moment and she stepped aside gingerly. Blood.

Spark peered down at it and her nose twitched as she sniffed the air. "That's not Mischief's is it?"

"No. As far as I could tell he wasn't wounded."

Harlequin zipped past her and put her nose to the grass. Her head snapped up again and twisted left and right, her ears pricked up straight.

Cleo cleared her throat and deviated to the left, giving the patch of blood a wide girth. "I don't think we should go that way."

"But he's this way!" Harlequin wailed.

Cleo looked back at her and frowned. "Enigma? Yes, I know. That's why we're avoiding it."

Harlequin bared her canines. "Your fuzzy friend went that way too. I can smell it."

Cleo closed her eyes and turned away. "You're lying."

"I'm not lying, I'm worried! What if he snaps again and kills him?!"

Cleo could feel the zorua's eyes boring into the back of her head.

"I know you don't want that to happen," Harlequin went on. "You wouldn't have stopped him if you did."

The meowstic closed her eyes again. This was war. Pokemon were killed left, right and centre, but she didn't like it. No one liked it. And if word got back to the Guild she'd spared one of Hydreigon's top assassins, she'd probably be locked away in that damp cell herself. She sighed and scratched the back of her head. Why did she do it?

"I know I'm right," Harlequin said slowly. "You're too soft."

Cleo looked back at the zorua. She knew why she did it. It was Harlequin's reaction. It reminded her too much of herself. To see someone you care about defenceless, in trouble, near death... and to not be able to do anything about it... if she'd ever been in that situation, she'd have reacted exactly the same way.

She'd have panicked.

And if Spark had ran and Cleo couldn't check if she was okay, she'd want to know, she'd fight with all the strength she had.

She sighed again. "All right, Harlequin, we'll go that way but on one condition – you tell me the truth." She met the zorua's bright blue eyes and a look of surprise crossed them. "Did Mischief really go that way?"

Harlequin stared back at her, confusion spreading across her face as she tried to work the meowstic out. Finally, she shook her head.

"No. He didn't." She nodded in the direction Cleo had been heading. "He went that way."

Cleo looked over her shoulder at the vast plain. It didn't fork off into two, but it was large enough that pokemon could traverse it without running into each other. This wasn't going to be easy. If Mischief headed back to find them, and they'd gone in the other direction, the chances their paths would cross were minuscule.

Spark leapt off Cleo's shoulder and sank into the long grass at her feet. "I'll go find him."

"What?!" Cleo's eyes widened with surprise. "You'll get lost! You're drowned in that long grass!"

"Exactly, I can hide!" Spark gave Cleo a huge grin. "I'll find him, don't you worry. You just go with Harlequin, check on that banette and we'll meet you at the edge of the woods. We'll work our way along it until we find you. Just make sure you do the same, okay?"

Cleo felt her shoulders sag with defeat. "Fine. Just... be careful."

Spark gave Cleo a little wave then turned and vanished into the grass. Cleo watched the dedenne's tail disappear out of view then turned reluctantly to face the zorua.

"You can trail his scent," she told her. "So lead the way."

The zorua turned sharply and lowered her nose to the grass, sniffing in a few different areas until she was satisfied and picked up her pace. Cleo made sure to stick close to her to give her room to move. Restricting her movements would have only made slow progress and she didn't have time to waste.

She swallowed drily, trying to dislodge the lump of worry that had risen in her throat. She'd lost Mischief and now Spark had been separated from her. She felt alone, stuck with an assassin hired to kill her and her friends and now they were hunting for their wounded ally. Harlequin was right. She really had gone soft. She considered rushing after Spark, dragging the zorua along with her kicking and screaming in protest and calling her a liar, but she decided against it.

She wouldn't have liked it herself. It was better to just get things over with.

A small whine from Harlequin snapped Cleo back to reality. The zorua had stumbled across more drops of blood on the grass. With another whine of distress, she picked up pace, almost reaching the end of her tether. Cleo sped up, causing the zorua's ears to prick and swivel backwards. She'd noticed this, breaking into a trot with her nose to the ground.

Well, this would certainly speed things up. Cleo summoned all her energy and jogged after the zorua, stumbling several times over those annoying spindly roots. Harlequin seemed to have the dexterity to avoid these as they didn't appear to give her any trouble.

When Cleo began to feel breathless she looked up briefly. The edge of the woods was growing nearer. She had no idea how long they'd been trailing Enigma for, but her lungs were feeling almost fit to burst. Harlequin showed no sign of slowing down, her nose trailing over the grass, avoiding any blood splatters and hopping over what Cleo guessed were those tricky trip hazards. Cleo tried to follow her style with no avail. She almost fell face first into the grass.

Finally, Harlequin came to a sudden stop, turning and curving back until she reached a patch of bramble bushes with lumpy berries on them. She peered into them then sniffed the ground again.

Cleo parted the leaves to look into them, avoiding any thorns. It was empty.

"The trail ends here," Harlequin said, somewhat confused. She looked round at the bushes again then glanced round at the plains, her eyes searching the area frantically. "Hey, Enigma?! Are you here?!"

The zorua's voice echoed slightly and Cleo's body tensed. She looked around sharply, ears pricked and alert. Any pokemon nearby would have heard the zorua's cry. Did Enigma have back up? Cleo really hoped not.

The zorua let out a sharp breath and stood back, searching around the berry bush once more before turning to face Cleo.

"I can't see him."

Cleo glanced around at each bush in turn then shook her head. "Maybe he warped." She looked back the way they'd come and her eyes fell on a large sitrus tree. Its branches were empty. No pokemon rested in them.

Harlequin followed her gaze and her face dropped. He wasn't here and she knew it.

"I'm sorry, Harlequin," Cleo said sadly. "We tried."

The zorua nodded and turned away from the tree, plodding alongside Cleo as they made for the woods.

"If he's not here," she told the meowstic, "then maybe he's recovered and warped away."

"Maybe." Cleo licked her lips nervously. Recovered. That meant he could be anywhere, tailing them. Or tailing Spark.

...

Enigma watched the zorua turn away and follow the meowstic. He'd seen them coming and to avoid trouble had reduced his density until he was completely invisible. That meowstic may have let him get away but he wasn't willing to put himself in any danger of an attack in his current state.

Then there was Harlequin, following after that meowstic. Apparently he had no choice. That collar worked in some strange way that it didn't let him move away from the meowstic.

But why were they looking for him? No right-minded pokemon would willingly go searching for an assassin sent to kill them. He licked bitter berry juice from his claws and grimaced. Maybe Harlequin wasn't on his side after all. His mind had been warped and he was helping the meowstic to find him and finish him off. Harlequin wasn't his ally any more.

That meant he'd have to kill him.

He crossed his arms over his stomach and closed his eyes, his breath coming in painful, shallow bursts. That thought made him feel sick.

...

"Oi!"

Spark bounded forwards through the grass, catching the whimsicott's eye. He beamed when he spotted her.

"Spark!" He ran towards her then faltered, looking past her at the waving grass. "Where's Cleo?"

"With Harlequin." Spark stood up on her hind legs and scrutinized Mischief, her nose crinkled in confusion. "Is something wrong? You look funny."

Mischief pointed at his face. "Me? No... I'm..." He shifted from foot to foot and looked back over his shoulder as though he expected someone to be there. He looked back at Spark and lowered himself to her level, keeping his voice low. "I've been told something."

Spark's ears twitched. "What? Is it bad? Does it concern me?" She paused. "Does it concern food?"

"Yes, no and no."

He glanced back again then stooped to pick up Spark, setting her on his shoulder. She almost drowned in his downy fluff and stuck her head out, spitting out tufts of cotton.

"There, I can whisper now." He gave her a sideways glance. "Where are we going?"

"Erm." Spark pointed to his left. "That way. We need to find Cleo. I said we'd meet her at the edge of the trees."

Mischief began walking, his gait bouncy and light compared to Cleo's.

"So... the news," she said impatiently.

"Oh right yes! Erm..." He glanced at her again. "I was told not to tell anybody."

"Then why bring it up!" Spark quipped. "You know I have no patience!"

"Argh." Mischief rubbed a paw over his head. "Because it's bad, Spark, it's bad." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Someone wants to kill Harlequin."

Spark let out a rather loud, rather long "Whaaaat?!" She instantly covered her mouth with both paws. "I'm sorry, that was loud."

Mischief gave her a look of dismay. "Yes, it was."

Spark spoke much quieter this time. "Who is it?"

"He says he's an absol." Mischief rubbed his paws together and glanced back over his shoulder.

"Suspicious movements." Spark gave him a small kick in the shoulder. "Stop it."

"Okay." He nodded. "Thing is, I've never heard of an absol."

"You probably have. They just might have been removed from your mind." She paused. "They're generally bad news. Even the Shadow Lands don't want them."

"Because they believe they bring disasters."

Mischief's matter-of-fact response caused Spark to pause again.

"He told you that huh?"

Mischief nodded. "Yeh. Spark... what do we do?"

"Nothin'." Spark crossed her paws. "We don't need the extra stress of telling Harlequin."

"But he wants to kill him!"

"Well she probably won't handle it well."

"You... you really think Harlequin's a she?"

Spark snorted. "Yeh."

Mischief shrugged. "The absol didn't seem to think so."

"Huh." Spark scratched her chin. "Interesting."

"But I don't think it matters right now. Because we need to do something."

"No. We don't."

"I don't want anyone to die, Spark!"

She looked round at Mischief. His eyes were wide and panicked and he was staring down at his paws. Staring at them as though they'd deceived him by committing a violent crime.

Spark crinkled her nose. It wouldn't be a false accusation but it was one he hated.

"Mischief... have you noticed something?"

He broke his attention away from his paws to glance at her. "No?"

"You only go mad when you fight."

He opened his mouth a few times and looked away. "So I shouldn't fight?"

"I'm not saying that." She looked ahead to try and spot Cleo. "You've used attacks without losing your mind. I think you need to try and look for the signs."

"But I've not noticed anything."

"You don't feel anything? No light-headedness? No... snap?"

"No." He paused. "My mind just goes blank. Then I wake up somewhere different."

Spark thought about this for a moment. No signs. No signs at all. He just went mad. There was nothing they could do to help him.

"Is there a cure?" he asked quietly. "Can we fix me?"

She felt a sharp stab of sadness. There really was nothing they could do to help him. No one had ever bothered to find a cure for pokerus. It was a beneficial virus. There had been no point. Until now. But how was she going to tell him that?

"We'll speak to Cleo," she said. "Maybe there might be a cure somewhere in the world but... hang onto hope, okay?" She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring grin.

He returned it with a half smile. "Okay. I'll hang on."

"Oh, speaking of which!" Spark waved wildly. "Hey! Cleo!"

The meowstic's eyes fixed on her and she picked up pace, Harlequin trotting behind her. Mischief skipped towards them, covering the rest of the distance as he almost glided in the air.

"You're too loud," Cleo told Spark firmly. "You need to keep your voice down."

"Ahh." Spark slumped. "Sorry."

Cleo looked up at the trees. "We need to take these woods and I've no idea what's in them."

"Did you find Enigma?"

Cleo gave her a nervous glance. "No."

Spark looked down at Harlequin. The zorua was downcast, her head held lower than usual, looking up at them with her canines bared. Mischief's assault on Enigma was going to be a sore spot for a while it seemed.

And she also had no idea an absol wanted to kill her.

She wanted to tell her but she decided against it. There was also the possibility doing so might put Mischief's life at risk. Which also meant theirs. But then there was the risk the absol thought they were Harlequin's allies and would be taken out with her. But then why spare Mischief?And she couldn't tell Cleo because Harlequin was too close by. She pulled her head into the whimsicott's fur. This was tricky.

"Spark?" Cleo asked. "Are you okay?"

"Just sleepy."

"Well, you'll need to keep your wits about you. It'll be darker in these woods and the sun may set soon."

...

An entire day had passed since Tinker had spoken to the Guild Elites. The reaction had been somewhat mixed, leaning more towards speculations concerning the Riolu's sanity.

As such, Tinker had barely left his office. He paced back and forth, occasionally giving the egg a cautious glance. The beating was stronger. Despite the lack of a warm body to keep it safe, the egg was going to hatch. It had clearly been close to hatching before the mother had left.

'Tinker, this is madness! We can't have a baby dragon-type pokemon running rampant around New City!'

'But he has a point. It doesn't hatch as a dragon type, it gains it upon evolution.'

'Yeh, just give it an everstone like you're wearing, Tinker, then it shouldn't be a problem.'

'Not a problem? Are you crazy?! It's still a baby altaria, it's still in the same evolution line!'

'But it doesn't hatch with built-in morals, we can raise it to be one of us.'

'Until it learns what it is...'

Tinker stopped his pacing and stared at the bump beneath the blanket. Mixed opinions, each one making a firm point. But the decision was obvious.

If he wanted to keep the peace he had to get rid of it.

Without a second thought, he strode over to the egg and whipped off the blanket. The momentum sent the egg toppling sideways out of its nest and onto his desk. Small cracks appeared along the side of it and his heart sunk slightly. Now the egg was ruined; his decision finalised. With both paws, he made to pick the egg up, but a small cry stopped him in his tracks. The egg flipped to the other side, the cracks spreading across it, criss-crossing the smooth surface. In a flurry of fine shards, the egg shattered, scattering jagged pieces across his desk.

Tinker blinked a few times, rubbing a paw across his eyes. He'd thought the egg had been close to hatching but it had taken him quite by surprise. Sat on his desk amongst the scattered shards was a baby swablu, its feathers still moist from its time in the egg.

The swablu blinked its tiny black eyes and looked up at him, squinting in the candlelight that filled his office. When it finally focused on him, its eyes widened with a look of fondness and it flapped its little wings, skittering across the desk towards him.

In a flash, Tinker caught the baby pokemon before it slipped off the edge of his desk. He set it back in its nest and sat down heavily in his chair, staring back at the baby swablu. It inclined its head on one side and let out a small chirp.

It was too late. He couldn't get rid of it now. It would never be able to defend itself. He was stuck with it.

Regardless, he found a small smile playing across his face. The little swablu, still fixing him with fond eyes, chirped again.

"Well." Tinker stood up and reached for a plate of berries across the table. "I guess you're hungry?"