Author's Notes: Thanks for reviewing and happy Halloween! And oh yes, foreshadowing is one of my favorite literary devices. It's great for cliffhangers.
Chapter 15: The Discovery
As planned, the friends reconvened at Seth's tree that next afternoon. First to arrive was Trevor, who undulated over to it, his yellow eyes scanning its upper branches. Seeing no sign of the Spearow, he hissed in irritation.
Satoran appeared next, skittering across the open space between bushes and trees until he reached the shadow of the tree's proud branches. He greeted Trevor in his soft voice and the Ekans replied with a hissed greeting. It was not long before Jess trundled out of the bushes, walking clumsily on her short legs.
"Where's Seth?" she chirped as she finally reached the pair of waiting Pokemon.
"Off sleeping somewhere, no doubt," Trevor growled exasperatedly. "He probably forgot all about the meeting."
"Who knows, with Seth?" Satoran chirred. "He's smarter than he lets on. I would not be surprised to hear that he was up to no good, as usual."
Jess shrugged as best she could and plopped down in the sparse grass.
As usual, Malkendro arrived without warning, a shadow ghosting out of the bushes and over to the assembled Pokemon. He took his seat in his normal stony silence. His friends were all used to it and took no offense when he offered them no greeting. "Looks like we're just waiting for one person, then," Trevor observed, glaring accusingly up into the tree branches.
"We should probably just begin without Seth," Satoran suggested. "If he hasn't shown his face here by now it is unlikely that he'll do so later."
"Yes, let's get started," Jess agreed eagerly.
"Very well," Trevor acquiesced. "What did you find out from Delrairon, Satoran?"
"About as much as you thought that I would, Trevor," Satoran admitted. "He spoke in riddles, as always. He seemed to suggest that there was nothing that we could do to lift the curse from the island, but at the same time, he seemed to feel that it was important we protect the meadow. He said that it was imperative that it not disappear."
If Trevor had eyebrows, they'd probably be raised. "Disappear?" he asked incredulously.
Satoran nodded. "That is what he said. I know it doesn't make any sense. How can an entire meadow just evaporate? Other than that, he seemed to be talking about some other person, Sasoliar or something..."
Malkendro's ears perked up. "Sasoliar?" he growled.
The rest of the group stared at him. Malkendro rarely spoke except to point out something wrong with what another person had said.
"Yes...yes, I believe that was the name," Satoran replied, now unsure of himself. "He said something about how she was important because the field gave her power."
"Do you know something about this, Malkendro?" Trevor asked sharply.
The Houndour appeared to hesitate for a second. "No," he growled, and his expression dared anyone to try to get anything else out of him.
"I thought that perhaps we might take the time to inspect the meadow, see what we can learn about it. Maybe we'll be able to see this mysterious "Sasoliar" and learn more about them," Satoran continued.
"That sounds reasonable," Jess agreed.
"There's no time for that," Malkendro growled direly. Once again, his companions were struck dumb. This was incredibly talkative for the dark-type who was usually stubbornly reticent. "Don't you remember my assignment?" he asked with annoyance.
"Oh, yes!" Jess cried. "What did you see?"
"The situation is far more pressing than we assumed," Malkendro growled. "The Mistress has called upon the aid of a Gengar to find Jeremy. I have no doubt that he will soon succeed; Gengars are not governed by the same laws as we mortal creatures, and they can traverse the continent in the bat of an eyelash."
"That is indeed grim news," Satoran admitted.
"Oh, dear," Jess moaned. "What do we do?"
At first no one seemed to have any idea. Then Trevor suggested that they "confront the Mistress and try to defeat her."
This insane idea naturally brought on a tidal wave of scornful comments and a storm of other suggestions. Soon a heated discussion was underway. Satoran, as always, remained quiet and thoughtful, weighing each option carefully. When he thought he had the answer, he did his best to calm the other members of the circle, who were thoroughly embroiled in the debate.
"Wait, wait, I think that I have just the idea," he announced. "Here is what we must do..."
----
"Are you sure about this?" Seth growled at his companion.
"Of course I'm sure," sniffed the Murkrow, a character almost as untidy as Seth himself. His coal-black feathers stood out at odd angles, and occasionally a vehement gesture would cause one to give up the ghost and drift slowly towards the ground.
"You had better be. Because if this is another one of your stupid jokes..." Seth threatened.
"Me? Joke?" the Murkrow squawked, extremely indignant. "I never joke! I am always dead serious."
"Emphasis on "dead,"" Seth grumbled to himself. "Fine then," he said aloud. "What are we waiting for?"
"For your majesty's leave to continue, of course," the Murkrow sneered in response.
"Get a move on, Allekendro," Seth snarled in exasperation. "Where do we enter?"
"There," Allekendro replied, back to business. He extended a wing and pointed it in the general direction of the large mansion that lay below them. The pair were perched in the upper branches of an ancient oak tree, one of only two trees on the entire cliff. It reared up over even the mansion's three stories, ancient beyond measure.
"Oh, big help," Seth said, voice dripping sarcasm. He was wary in the openness of the tree, used to being sheltered by the other trees that grew in the forest. Of course, he hadn't always been all too comfortable hanging out in a tree all day, but that was something that he had adjusted to. The constant breeze that whipped the empty plateau buffeted his unkempt feathers and he tightened his grip on the tree branch.
"There's a hole in the roof near the far right corner," Allekendro elaborated. "Follow me." He leapt off of the branch, black wings opening. He beat them heavily, laboring against the wind and his own weight. Black feathers spiraled away from his stubby wings. Seth followed suit, though his flapping was far more frantic. By the time he and Allekendro had reached the aperture he was thoroughly exhausted and issuing a steady stream of mental curses.
The two birds peered down into the dark hole that yawned in the roof. They had to be careful of their footing, as the shingles were rotting away and treacherous. "You first," Seth told Allekendro.
"As you wish," the Murkrow replied with a shrug and, with a hop forward, disappeared into the hole. Seth listened intently, smiling when he heard a heavy thud that indicated a less-than graceful landing somewhere below. "It's safe enough," came Allekendro's disembodied voice from far below.
Taking heart, Seth too jumped into the hole, flapping madly in order to slow his descent. He wasn't prepared for the sudden appearance of the floorboards directly beneath him and managed a landing only slightly more graceful than Allekendros. He might have expressed this fact with an oath, but found the air knocked from his small lungs.
Upon his recovery, he stared around at the room in which he now found himself. It was dank and smelled of rot and age. Allekendro was looking about him with interest, his red eyes accustomed to such places. A window at the far end of the long room let in a relecutant beam of sunlight, illuminating a multitude of dust particles that swirled and eddied under its scrutiny.
"The attic?" Seth asked.
Allekendro nodded. "Yes. There should be a trap door somewhere over this way..." The two birds searched along the creaking wooden floor until they found an old-fashioned ring handle amongst the thick layer of dust on the floor. With a considerable amount of heaving and swearing, the pair managed to pull the trap door open, revealing a hall beneath them. Once again they descended, landing in the considerably better-lit corridor.
"What exactly are we looking for here?" Seth asked Allekendro as he stared around himself. The pair's journey through the house had already marked them; Allekendro's coal black had turned to a dust gray, and Seth had the look of a bedraggled seagull dipped in flour.
"Anything interesting," Allekendro replied absently. "Maybe some sort of treasure."
"May as well get searching. Who knows when she's gonna be back," Seth pointed out. The pair set out for a tour of the old mansion. They found it to be a spectacle of ruined opulence. Tapestries rotted on walls; chandeliers were no longer recognizable underneath the thick layer of cobwebs that had been spun across them. The rich rugs beneath the Pokemons' feet had begun to take on the color of the floorboards that they lay upon, and each step upon them sent up a mushroom cloud of dust, causing the pair to choke and sneeze.
Still, there were some treasures to be had. Allekendro soon acquired a ring set with a red stone that Seth speculated might be a ruby and an antique pocket watch. Nothing particularly interested the Spearow, who figured that with his flying ability he wouldn't be able to carry anything back with him anyway. He didn't really know why he had agreed to go along with Allekendro, thus skipping the meeting with his friends, but he had always been fascinated by the old mansion and had yearned to see its interior.
The end of their adventure was nearing as Seth pushed aside the door to an old closet. The dust here, though still thick, was not nearly as bad as it had been in other areas. Something gleamed from the far side of the room and Seth pushed his way inside. "Oi! Allekendro! Get over here!" he yelled.
The Murkrow obligingly aborted his study of a vase that had fallen and smashed upon the floor and hopped into the closet behind Seth. The Spearow had crossed the closet space in a trance, his eyes on irregularly shaped objects on a shelf on the far wall.
"They're evolution stones," Seth breathed, eyes widening with greed and wonder. Indeed, nestled amongst geodes and fossils sat the rare and precious evolution stones, still glinting despite the dust that covered them.
"Mmm," Allekendro replied. He was inspecting an odd object on the floor. There were many of them scattered about. Seth had apparently not noticed them as he waltzed into the closet. "Look at these things on the floor, Seth," he called, picking up the one before him and blowing the dust away from it.
He was surprised to find that it was a Great Ball, or at least what he assumed was a Great Ball. He had lived his entire life on the island, and so had heard of such devices only in stories from the older, more worldly Pokemon now trapped there and the captive trainers. It was certainly some sort of Pokeball and had a blue and red top. It was also open. A more experienced eye might have been somewhat surprised to see that the intricate devices within it had apparently melted, but to Allekendro it appeared perfectly normal. He had only time to note that there was a label affixed to the top of it before a horrible noise split the air.
It was somewhere between a shriek of rage and a wail of lament, and it made every feather on Allekendro's scruffy body stand straight out in protest. "Seth!" he yelled, certain that some sort of horrible fate had befallen his companion, despite the fact that the Spearow was a mere two feet or so away. He hurriedly dropped the Great Ball and dashed over to see what was the matter.
The Great Ball fell back to the floor with a muffled clack. The peeling label on its top, yellowed though it was, was perfectly legible to someone who, unlike Allekendro, could read. Printed on the black label in white block letters were the words "Property of: SETH CONNORS."