Chapter Three: The Curse
Katherine was considerably relieved when, just a little over half an hour later, the ocean broke up against a rocky shore and the great Ilex forest rolled out beneath her instead of trackless waves. The ancient, close-packed trees that cast the floor of the forest in perpetual twilight cloaked the land below in an almost uniform carpet of dark green, their swaying boughs mirroring the heaving sea, broken only by small islands of open ground where one of the great trees had fallen and carved out a haven of sunlight. It was one of these that Katherine was looking for, or rather, that Pidgeot was looking for, as his trainer was completely lost.
Fortunately for both of them, Pidgeot was naturally adept at navigating by landmarks and had an excellent memory and sense of direction. It was fortunate, too, that sight was not all that he would have to rely on as he searched for their campsite. The great bird angled his flight downward, leveling off just above the trees. The wind of his passage stirred the branches below into a frenzy and tore up a cloud of loose leaves to dance in their wake. Katherine grinned and almost laughed, the terror of the island already fading as she flew above the sunlight-soaked canopy, so different from the gloomy interior of the forest below.
Suddenly, an overpowering stench struck her almost like a physical blow. She gagged reflexively, her stomach heaving, and even Pidgeot, for all his battle training, faltered as the scent washed over them. The trees beneath them suddenly disappeared, leaving Pidgeot floating over a small, grassy clearing. He braked hastily, backwinging furiously as he slowly lowered himself and his trainer to the ground below. Katherine at last managed to wipe the grimace off of her face, brushing away the tears that had sprung up in response to the horrifying smell. Here, close to the ground, it only seemed worse, a hideous amalgamation of skunk and rotting eggs, laced with the sickly sweet of fruit left too long in the sun. Katherine tried to clamp down on her disgust and sternly reminded herself that she would grow used to the smell; in fact, in a few minutes she wouldn't even notice it.
Pidgeot's talons at last touched the earth and sunk in immediately, the huge bird clinging to the ground as though he planned to never leave it again. He heaved a sigh as Katherine slid off of his back, shuddering slightly and fluffing out his feathers. After a cursory glance around the clearing to make sure that everything appeared all right, Katherine reached for his pokéball.
"Good job this morning, Pidgeot," she said, and he nodded wearily. "Hey, listen, I know I shouldn't have made you go down to that island when you didn't want to. I'm really sorry, and I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't been there to bail me out. Thanks." Pidgeot nodded again and made an odd little shrug with his wings, and though his eyes remained dull and tired, Katherine thought she saw a flicker of pride in them. "Care for a rest?" Katherine asked him, grinning as she raised the pokéball to eye level. Pidgeot gratefully returned to his pokéball in a burst of red energy, and Katherine made for her backpack, which was still leaning against the large, rotted-out stump that sat in the center of the clearing.
Absently clipping Pidgeot's pokéball back to her belt, Katherine carefully sat down on the stump, making a face at the way its rotting bark crumbled off on her skin and cltothes. She worked her hands opened and closed ruefully; they were stiff and numb after the cold, fast flight from the island back to camp. Resolving to buy a good pair of gloves before attempting another long flight, she surveyed her campsite once again. It was just as she had left it; there was the fire pit that she had constructed a few days ago, and spread out next to it, her sleeping bag. A few strange bands of dead grass crisscrossed the clearing, looking almost like massive slug tracks. Only one thing missing, really.
Scanning the forest's edge but not spotting anything, Katherine called, "I'm back, Muk! Where are you?"
The foliage near the edge of the clearing shifted and rustled as something large moved through it. A large pile of purple sludge shoved its way through the undergrowth and out into the open field beyond, oozing forward in a series of disgusting rippling motions. Katherine could almost have mistaken it for a pile of toxic waste come horribly to life, but for the small eyes that peered out from amongst the ridges of slime. The digusting mass shivered to a halt some three feet away from her, a huge hand distinguishing itself from the featureless slime and slowly rising into the air, dripping gobbets of sludge. At the same time, a huge pit appeared beneath the strange creature's eyes as it slowly opened its huge maw.
"Muk! Muuuuk!" the pokémon gurgled enthusiastically, waving its gooey pseudopod at Katherine.
"Yes, I'm glad to see you, too," Katherine replied with a strained smile, returning the wave. This close, Muk's scent was absolutely overpowering. "Have a good morning?"
"Mukmuk. Muk. Muuk!"
"Well, that sounds nice. No problems, then?"
Katherine was very fond of her muk. While not the most sanitary nor the most odiferous of her companions, it was certainly one of the most friendly. Much to Muk's dismay, however, no one seemed eager to receive one of his affectionate handshakes or pats on the back; in fact, most people and pokémon kept their distance from him as much as possible. This, of course, made Muk and excellent guard. Almost anyone, upon catching the scent of a muk in the air, would turn and hurry off in the other direction. Even thieves and pokémon trainers would be reluctant to investigate a muk's territory, as generally the rewards weren't worth the smell. And in the unlikely event that someone should brave Muk's stench and stumble upon her campsite with the intent of doing it harm, Muk was an excellent battler and could easily dispatch of a fumes-dizzied foe.
"Well, Muk, it's about lunchtime, so if you want to head out and grab something to eat, the rest of us will just be hanging around here for a bit."
"Mukmuk," Muk replied a little sadly before turning and oozing off towards the tree line again, leaving a broad trail of dying vegetation in his wake.
Katherine watched him go for a minute, then turned back to the tree stump, smiling slightly as she reached for her pack. Seating herself, she rifled through the contents of her backpack until she found the lunch that she had packed for herself that morning, wrapped in cellophane and smelling faintly of peanut butter, and set it aside on the stump before diving back into her capacious bag. "I wonder why Pidgeot was so scared of that rattata this morning," she thought aloud as she dredged up some pokéchow.
"Maybe because he can tell that I'm no ordinary rattata," a small voice said from very nearby.
Katherine jumped slightly, accidentally dropping the pokéchow canister. She twisted around hurriedly, only to find herself staring into the grinning face of a rattata. The rodent was sitting uncomfortably close to her lunch, and his large red eyes seemed to glow with merriment.
"You…how…" Katherine spluttered.
"Oh, quite simple really. I climbed aboard during all of the excitement back on the beach. Your hood is really quite comfortable, you know," the rattata told her with a hint of smugness in his voice.
"But…you speak English!" Katherine exclaimed.
"Good observation!" the pokémon replied, grin broadening. When Katherine just stared at him, he sighed and added, "It's my native tongue."
"Wait," Katherine said, her mind still trying to catch up to the impossible situation that it had been presented with. "No. No, that can't be. You're a pokémon! All you're supposed to be able to say is your name!"
"I!" the rattata exclaimed, apparently extremely offended, "I am no more a pokémon than you are a banana!"
Katherine tilted her head slightly, as though wondering if the talking rodent would look different from another angle. Now that her initial shock was beginning to wear off, she was starting to suspect that this was some sort of practical joke. "But you look just like a rattata," she said doubtfully. "What are you? Are you a pokémorph?" Katherine had heard of the horrific experiments conducted by Team Rocket and other evil organizations that half-transformed people into pokémon, or gave them the ability to change into a certain pokémon. She'd never heard of anyone being turned into a rattata, though.
As her thoughts spiraled into a confused jumble, shook her head, still perplexed, and for good measure added, "And I look nothing like a banana."
"No, I'm not a pokémon. What I wouldn't give to be at least half human again! But neither am I really a rattata, you see. And as for the banana thing, well, I guess you don't, really. It was just your nose that gave me the impression…"
"This is ridiculous!" Katherine shrieked, her frustration at last bubbling over. "I'm being insulted by a little rattata that claims he's a person and who won't give me a straight answer on anything!"
"All right, all right," the pokémon sighed huffily. "Excuse me for trying to lighten the mood a little bit. What I said before was true, though. I'm actually a human who's been turned into a rattata."
"Sort of like the Poliwag Prince?" Katherine asked. "You need someone to kiss you, and then you'll turn back into a person?"
The rattata's mirth seemed to be ebbing away, and his whiskers actually began to droop as Katherine watched. "If only it were that simple," he sighed. "No, I have been cursed. That's why I had to escape with you, see? I've been trapped on that island for…well, too long. I could never have found a way to lift the curse if I stayed there. I knew that if I was to have any chance of being restored to my former self I would have to get off that accursed isle."
Katherine shook her head, turning away from the rattata with the excuse of picking up the pokéchow that she had dropped earlier. In truth, she needed time to think. Talking rattatas that were actually people? Cursed islands? It seemed she had gone out for a little adventure and accidentally brought a huge, tangled dilemma crashing down on her head. Her stomach growled, displeased with the delay in getting lunch together. Sighing, Katherine turned back to the pokémon. "Look, rattata, or whatever you are, we can discuss this after lunch. My pokémon and I need to eat."
"The name's Jeremy," the rattata announced, holding a white forepaw out to her. Katherine awkwardly extended her index finger and Jeremy took it, shaking it solemnly. He then grinned, perking up. "Speaking of grub, could I get a bit? I'm starving."
Katherine had returned to digging through her pack but continued to eye Jeremy askance. "Well, I don't have any more human food. You'll have to have some pokéchow or berries or something."
Jeremy shrugged, an odd gesture for a rattata. "It's gotta be better than what I could scrounge up on the island. Give me whatever you've got."
Katherine nodded absently, pulling various food items out of her bag and arranging them carefully before herself. Meal preparation was always a big hassle for Katherine, largely due to the disparate tastes of her pokémon. The only one she didn't have to cook for was Muk, as she flatly refused to cart his favorite foods—industrial waste and the like—all over the region with her. He was on his own to rustle up grub, but he didn't seem to mind very much. Her other pokémon, however, grudgingly accepted that letting them out to hunt made Katherine uncomfortable but in return demanded that their meals be prepared precisely to their specific tastes. Although all that she could afford to feed them on a regular basis was generic dry pokéchow, each of them preferred that different seasonings be added to their bowls.
Thus the litany that played through Katherine's head as she mechanically dumped a bit of pokéchow into each of the bowls and started adding condiments. Ketchup for Electabuzz, but make sure his bowl is not next to Donphan's; the ground-type loathed anything remotely resembling a tomato by-product and would make a fuss about going to eat somewhere else otherwise. For Donphan, nuts; mixed berries for Heracross, make sure that none are crushed or overripe; the jerky for Arcanine, of course; and make sure that nothing has made its way into Pidgeot's bowl—being more of a plain-vanilla fellow, the bird preferred to take his meals unadulterated.
Her task completed, Katherine offered the various additives to Jeremy and grimaced as he commented on the wide selection. Dragging her pokémon's favorite foods as well as their bowls back and forth across the continent got tiresome, to say the least. She knew that she spoiled them all rotten, but they were happy to return the favor by trouncing her opponents in battle, so she didn't complain.
Making sure that everything was ready, Katherine let the rest of her pokémon out. "Lunchtime, everybody!" she announced as she tossed her pokéballs out into the field. Her pokémon burst out of confinement enthusiastically, dashing over to their respective bowls and digging in with gusto. Katherine neatly caught their now-empty pokéballs as they reversed trajectory and came spinning back to her hand. She sat on the stump next to Jeremy, eating her sandwich and sipping from her canteen as she mulled over the day's events. Fortunately, her team seemed too engaged in their lunches to take any notice of the rattata; she didn't want any of them freaking out like Pidgeot had.
For his part, Jeremy had scorned the dried food and was instead feasting on the condiments. At this point, he was stuffing his whiskered face with berries, having already polished off several pieces of jerky. When he appeared finished, sitting back on his haunches and beginning to groom his whiskers, which were caked with ketchup and bits of nuts, Katherine decided that it was time to get some answers.
"All right, rodent," she said in a stern voice, "just what is going on here, anyway?"