Mirage circled around her, the way she sometimes did when Briar gave her complex instructions for a scene. Those dark eyes revealed little about what she might be thinking, and her mind even less. She was a dark-type—resistant or even immune to Shiloh's mental powers.
Having her so close did unsettle Shiloh a little. Those teeth were sharp, her claws even sharper, and wherever she stood left a dark stain on the space around her where Shiloh could sense nothing. It was easy to see now why the kittens had been intimidated by her during their time in the Nursery.
Shiloh might be too, if it wasn't for her trip to the Vainglory. Now she'd seen real evil, she wasn't going to be scared by a type disadvantage.
"I can do it," the Pokémon eventually said. "The Champion Shiloh. Be him?"
She nodded eagerly. "Please. I've been thinking about this for a long time. Even if I know it isn't real."
"What's the point of being human?" Aspen asked. "You didn't want what Mom did. But I thought you wanted to save your friend."
Mirage hadn't wondered before, but now there was some doubt in her eyes too. Legendaries could obviously think about subjects just as complex as humans—could regular Pokémon understand them too?
"The simplest plan I can think of is to go to the buyer and try to convince them to sell Briar back to us for whatever price they paid. It's only been a few days, hopefully they aren't too attached. I have... all the money and friends we could need to help. But I can't ask them if I'm a Pokémon."
Just like that, she wasn't. Shiloh blinked away her disorientation, staring down at herself. She didn't see a Pokémon again, or even a girl—there was his familiar trainer's outfit. Boots, long coat, in yellow and orange victini colors. He was the champion who never lost.
She stretched, adjusting the sleeves. "I've been waiting a long time for—" She trailed off abruptly. There was a tiny problem with the illusion. Her voice was as high and feminine as before. She turned towards Mirage, who was now shorter again. Everything else looked perfect. The trees were the right height, the sylveon watching from the undergrowth was now properly small. Aspen looked positively adorable. "Mirage. My voice."
The Zoroark backed away from her, looking down. "Sounds I can do. But not human talk. I can't make things I don't know."
Aspen giggled. "That's how you looked? Only you still talk like Shiloh. You should've showed the kittens before we left. They need something to laugh about too."
Shiloh grunted unhappily. "Okay, uh... new plan. Mirage, can you make my voice match? Not the words, just get the tone right. I'll just use telepathy every time I talk. We're not in Saffron, no one will notice."
"Try," Mirage said. "Should be different now."
"I'm trying." Success. Her old voice was back, exactly as she remembered! "Are you sure my words aren't right? It sounds perfect!"
Aspen giggled again. "It's even sillier. You talk like a Pokémon, but you sound all... deep. I like normal Shiloh better."
This is normal Shiloh. Yet there was strange overlap, things she hadn't even noticed at first. She looked human, and she even sounded right. But her Pokémon senses were still there. She felt the pressure of many minds in the little park. If she stretched, she felt the wider awareness of thousands more, Pokémon and human alike.
Her powers were still there too. Could she use the illusion as though it were real? Mirage could make others feel touch, but she couldn't move objects. Telekinesis could, though. Shiloh bent down, scooping Aspen carefully into both hands. It took all of Shiloh's focus, even more than when she moved objects normally. She had to keep her lined up with her hands, or she passed right through her fingers.
"I'm not going to pass a biometric scan," she said. "But—I shouldn't need to! Rotom, you still have all my data, don't you? Do you have my private keys?"
"Yes," the drone answered. "Along with data for all the footage captured as part of your documentary. When you do capture that mew, it will make for an excellent debut production."
"I don't like this," Aspen announced, squirming in her grip. "This feels just as bad as flying. Can Mirage carry me instead?"
Shiloh handed her over. The dark-type didn't seem to mind a passenger riding on her shoulder, either.
"We can skip the bank completely," Shiloh continued. "When they agree to let us buy Briar back, Rotom can just do a digital transfer." With the ghost's help, she could get into his Pokémon storage PC, too. She could get together a whole new team to help save Orre.
To think she'd tried to get the ghost-type to leave. It was a good thing she'd failed so spectacularly.
"Before we go—Mirage, can you look like something less obvious? Having a master of illusion following me might let them realize what we're doing."
The request wasn't strange for her, even if it wasn't usually Shiloh to give it. Mirage nodded, then changed. She shrank down considerably, her dark coat going bright orange and yellow. Even Shiloh's superfans, the ones who knew who Briar was and the role he played in filming Shiloh's Pokémon journey—thought his production assistant had a delphox, not a zoroark.
It was always better not to know how the poké-sausage was made.
"Are we ready yet?" Mirage asked. "Kit is alone, vulnerable. We need to save him."
Shiloh looked up, waving for the drone's attention. "Show us the way, Rotom."
[hr]
Shiloh followed the bobbing security drone out of the Pokémon park, and into the streets of Goldenrod. The sun was out, reminding Shiloh of just how little sleep she'd had over the last few days.
There would be plenty of time for sleep after she found Briar. That hidden cave Lane brought them to seemed nice enough, she could find a quiet corner there. If not, Rotom could help her rent a hotel somewhere and finally have a little privacy.
Shiloh spoke very little as they walked through the city. She gestured, hurrying away from anyone who tried to make conversation with little more than a polite wave.
It was the first time in recent memory that Champion Shiloh wanted not to be seen during a trip across town. How long until a reporter recognized her, and wanted an interview about what happened in Orre?
Even if telepathy can trick people in front of me, it won't work on camera. Shiloh could be the undefeatable spirit of victory, but that wouldn't make it any easier to look like a human. It was no fair Lane could be a powerful legendary one minute and look like a human the next.
Being Victini might not be so bad if she had those powers.
Shiloh definitely felt eyes watching them. She hadn't been around humans in such a low-pressure environment since her transformation. Now that she was, she saw what Lane always implied—how open human thoughts and feelings were to scrutiny.
The instant someone recognized her, she felt it, and could hastily round a corner and hide with the others until they gave up trying to find her.
Fortunately for her, the address they were searching for wasn't in the center of downtown, with thousands of people flowing in every direction. Instead it took them to the edge of town, into a gated community of sprawling mansions among the flowers.
"I know this place!" Aspen exclaimed, as they slipped through an opening in the gate, then got quickly back onto the sidewalk. The illusion might be convincing, but Shiloh's body was still small enough to fit through the bars easily, if she didn't mind folding her ears a bit.
"You... do?" She turned, watching the shaymin balanced on Mirage's shoulder. "Where are we?"
She squirmed, pointing at the sprawling hill overlooking the mansions. No wonder the rich wanted to live up here, the view was breathtaking—an entire little valley of red flowers, blooming despite the chill air.
"My father took me here once. Flying with the others, we can't go more than... one day from the flowers. Everyone knows where to find them, all over the world. I remember the houses. Nobody bothered us, but I think they took pictures. Elisa always posed for them."
"That house," Rotom announced, stopping before a long, winding driveway up to a white-stone mansion. She could barely see it through the trees. At least it didn't have its own fence and intercom, or else Shiloh would be just as screwed. Couldn't use telepathy through a camera—could she?
If I could find the person talking to me quick enough. How would I do that? Seeing Lane copy her had made her want to learn more about her powers, but mostly the fighting stuff. Lane had won against a laboratory abomination and a powerful dark type at the same time. How much more could Shiloh do if she mastered her powers?
"The key is looking like you belong," she explained, setting a brisk pace up the lane. It didn't matter how many holes were in her story so long as she resolved the situation quickly enough. "Stay close and stay quiet unless we're attacked, okay? You're my Pokémon. Oh, and... Mirage, can you hide Rotom for us? Don't want them to think we're paparazzi."
The drone vanished, right down to the occasional gust of wind and the hum of its engines.
"You sure you don't want me to talk to them instead?" Aspen asked. "I can talk to humans. My parents taught me to use their words. Silly and confusing, but I know a bunch. Better than my dad! Not as good as my mom, but she gets more practice."
Shiloh shook her head once. A pair of walkways split from the drive, and she took the smaller of the two, to the door tucked away on the side of the house. The servant's entrance, where staff could come and go without bothering whoever lived here.
He was far more likely to get a positive response there than dealing with the kind of people who owned a mansion. "Not right away. If I screw up, you could be my translator or something, but—why someone would use a Pokémon to translate for them instead of a person would get complicated to answer. Hopefully we don't have to."
She already felt attention on them. The building had its own security, watching covertly from across the property. But so far their visit hadn't provoked anything more than mild suspicion.
Shiloh reached the door, then knocked. They spent the next few moments in tense silence, with several Pokémon watching her. Would they lose patience with her and ruin her plan before it got anywhere?
"We could just fly around the house and look for a zorua," Aspen squeaked. "How big can it be?"
Then the door swung open. An older man in a crisp suit, looking exactly as Shiloh imagined a disapproving butler. He sounded like one too. "The governess position was only open to female applicants," he said, annoyed. "Please take your Pokémon and go."
Shiloh's eyebrows went up. Did this guy seriously think she was here to apply for a childcare position?
Now the moment of truth—she reached out with her telepathy, just as she started to speak. "I'm not here about that. My name is Shiloh Lehman, Pokémon Champion. I don't know how it happened, but one of my most valuable Pokémon ended up in the gray market for sale—a male zorua. I followed it to your address."
The butler's face remained impassive. He adjusted his suit with one hand, pretending ignorance. Inwardly, his mind raced with guilt and fear. Could he call the guard? What would Shiloh do if he tossed them off the property? Did he have proof?
Good thing Mirage was handling the illusion, because keeping her mind straight with someone else's thoughts spinning through her was almost impossible. "I'd like to purchase him back. I don't care what you paid; I'll match it. Just hand over the zorua, I wire you the pokédollars, and no one has to know anything happened."
She felt the refusal before he even opened his mouth. She'd been close, but not enough. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about. If you think something illicit happened, go to the authorities. I have nothing further to say to you."
He slammed the door in Shiloh's face. Seconds later, a well-muscled man in black emerged from the side of the house, arms folded. He nodded back to the walkway—no words were needed to convey the meaning.
Shiloh left in shame.