A/N - Thanks for all reads, reviews, faves and follows!
The first chapter has been updated to fix the concerns on tone change. You don't need to re-read it since it doesn't really add anything extra you need to know, but if you wish to then by all means! I'd love to know what you think. The changes are minor, and add a bit more emphasis on the weavile trio's behaviour.
8 - A Nefarious Plot
"Seviper," said Tinker. "Definitely seviper."
The riolu leant over the dry gorge, using Spark like a torch. Her light reflected off the damp, decomposing remains crushed beneath the rocks, making the jagged red spikes and pointed fangs shimmer in an unsettling fashion. It made the scene feel a lot more real than it initially had.
Spark's little face scrunched up, repulsed by the foetid smell that seemed somehow stronger. "Great. Can you put me down now?"
Tinker seemed reluctant to comply as he raised Spark higher to see behind the dam.
"I have one question," said Cleo. "Who did this to these pokemon? To build a dam out of their remains…" She shook her head and settled back against the wall, exchanging worried glances with a stout marshtomp. The aquatic pokemon gave Tinker a look that suggested the same question was on all their minds.
"I agree, it's abhorrent," said Tinker. "It will also have severely polluted the water supply. I dread to think of the damage it could have caused."
Could have? Cleo grimaced and looked back at the cave entrance. One of the first things she'd said during their trek back from New City's belly was that the plants along the river had died. But she'd never guessed it could have done more damage than that. The mountains were empty, save for New City.
There was a chance Tinker hadn't fully taken it all in. He'd been more occupied with finding a water pokemon who could investigate the dam, and had immediately recruited Skipper. Although Cleo was baffled as to why, since surely, like Tinker had said, the water would be filled with poison?
Skipper scratched his head fin, nudging aside a pair of swimming goggles. "No idea who done it then, Tink? 'Cos I'm outta ideas meseln."
Tinker finally set Spark back on the bank, getting a quick 'thanks' from the dedenne before she scampered away from the rotting mound.
"My first guess is an assassin," said Tinker. "Hydreigon does have a poison user in his ranks."
"Och, aye, that Harlequin." Skipper nodded.
"You think it's them?" Cleo gasped. First the noivern, and now Harlequin? "So it could be a direct attack from the Darkness?"
"It could be. I'm not ruling that out, and the thought is very unsettling." Tinker rubbed behind his ear in thought. "I mean, all rivers run away from the Shadow Lands, so to get rid of the remaining Outcasts en-mass, poisoning a major water source would do a pretty efficient job. But it would also mean Hydreigon's own soldiers wouldn't be able to use it if they were in the area, and a take-over would be delayed while the poison was given time to fade away. So it's a pretty counterproductive strategy, and not one I think Hydreigon would resort to unless he was desperate."
"So… you have doubts it might be Harlequin?" Cleo suggested.
"Not entirely," said Tinker. "But it could just be someone who has a grudge against the pokemon that live in this area. Anyone could move in at any point, and these snakes had to come from somewhere, so I won't rule that out either. But pretty much, whoever did it is clearly a vindictive soul." He gave the dam a sorry look and leant against the wall beside his friend. "I can only imagine the horror those poor seviper would have felt. I didn't even know such pokemon lived in these mountains. The poison-type pokemon are having a difficult time right now. They're being tracked and chased far away from their home in the Border Woods, and there are very few swamps to accommodate them this far south. If I'd known, I would have put some means in place to protect them."
"Could it have been a zangoose?" Spark asked, with some hope in her voice.
"While it's true the two species have some deep-rooted hatred for one another, I highly doubt it," Tinker explained, and Spark visibly deflated. "It's not like a zangoose to do this to another pokemon, no matter how they feel about them. Not to mention it could destroy an entire eco-system. No…" Tinker nibbled on a claw as his eyes turned distant. "This feels personal. Like whoever did it had a specific target in mind."
"Not New City?" Cleo asked.
"No." Tinker shook his head. "We've tapped into mountain springs and draw the water straight from them into an underground lake. It would be very difficult to taint those, although not impossible. And going off the state those bodies are in, I'd say this has been here for a few days at least."
"Aye," said Skipper. "An' this water ain't even risin' any higher. I'd say it's bein' sent elsewhere."
Tinker looked up at him with some surprise. "You believe it's being diverted?"
"Aye, right enough." Skipper nodded. "If our mysterious assassin wanted t'poison someone, I think it's safe t'say it ain't us, nor anyone livin' along this river."
"Then why poison it?" Cleo spat.
"Collateral damage," Tinker said before Skipper could reply. "The water would still have been running while this dam was being built. Whoever did it clearly didn't care, otherwise why not block the water first then poison what was left?" He sighed and looked back at the dam. "I'd like to call it a sloppy job, but the damage has been done."
"So how do we find out who the target is?" Cleo asked. "Mischief could follow the sound of the water, but…"
She gave a glance back to the whimsicott. He was sat against the wall with his paws clasped in his lap, trying to look anywhere but at the dam. It had been an awful shock to him. He'd only just re-learnt about the world, but to see this… it was like a wake-up slap. Reality dumped on him. She tore herself away to come back into Tinker's explanation half-way through.
"-someone into the water and have a look around." He stopped to tap his chin, but he had one eye fixed on Skipper. "This is where you come in."
"Hang on!" Cleo raised her paws. "Won't he be poisoned? He's not exactly immune to seviper venom."
"Sure enough, aye," said Skipper. "But I do resist it. Jus' keep a pecha berry handy, aye? Jus' in case I swallow any." The last part had been said with jest, but that didn't rule out the likelihood.
The marshtomp tugged his swimming goggles down over his eyes and jigged them about until they were resting comfortably in place. It hit Cleo then that Tinker had clearly understood the situation before he even summoned Skipper. The goggles would help to keep any toxic water out of his eyes, one of his weak points to absorb any. However, that didn't mean he wouldn't be at risk of filtering it through his gills. She quickly checked her bag to make sure she had a pecha spare.
"So I'm jus' lookin' fer where it drains off then, aye?" Skipper asked.
"Yes," said Tinker. "And for any sign of who might have done this."
"Alright, then stand back. I'll try not to splash, but ye cannae be too careful."
Tinker joined Cleo, Spark and Mischief against the far wall. Skipper slipped head-first into the water, sending no more than a little surge of water over the rocks and dam. Cleo waited with baited breath, her heart racing. But the soft sounds of splashing reassured her that Skipper was still moving around nimbly beneath the surface.
"It's good you found this," Tinker told Cleo. "Not only does it raise a potential member of the Darkness to our attention, but if there are pokemon living in these mountains then they may need our help."
"Unless they're all poisoned," said Spark.
"Try to be a little more optimistic," Tinker told her. "All it takes is one poisoned party to alert the rest to the danger. And there's a distinct possibility they will have been cured. But if they're out there, I want to find them."
Skipper's blue head popped above the surface, cascading water over his face. He swiped it away with a clawed flipper and nodded to the far wall.
"I can see where it's goin', sure enough, but th'hole's too small fer me."
"Don't worry about that, Skipper," said Tinker. "Can you see what made the hole?"
"Nay." Skipper shook his head. "It were made too long ago. Any claw marks've been washed away."
Tinker sighed and ran a paw over his snout. "Oh well. We've enough evidence for now. We can find out where the water is being sent and see if anyone needs our help."
"We should clear th'blockage n'all." Skipper clambered out onto the bank, careful not to splash as he was doing so. "That'll get th'river movin' again, an' away from where it's bein' drained out."
"We can't do that!" said Spark. "If we get the river moving again, all the poison will just flow into the lake!"
"While that's true, Spark, we do have pokemon fit for the job," said Tinker. "Skipper, I need you to recruit all breloom and shroomish living in New City. They can draw the poison out. I'll round up the excadrill and durant to dismantle the dam, and I'm sure Grey could lend a paw to hold back the water."
"Can we do anything?" Cleo asked. "Maybe look for who the targets were? Any survivors? We might find clues."
"You can continue your original assignment to find any evidence concerning that noivern," Tinker told her. "I appreciate you bringing this to my attention, but it's in my paws now. You don't need to concern yourself with this any longer."
"What if this has something to do with the noivern?" said Cleo. "We could follow the drain while you busy yourselves down here. Mischief can-"
"My orders are clear, Cleo," said Tinker. "That noivern poses more of a risk to us than this tainted water source, and I'm not going to have you deviating away from that to satisfy your curiosity. I have enough Warriors at my disposal to handle this particular task. You stick to your original assignment. Dismissed." He turned his back on her to head back into New City.
Cleo sighed and pushed herself back from the wall. Sure, they needed to know more about that noivern, but countless innocent pokemon could have been affected by this poisoning. She tried to push it to the back of her mind and turned towards the exit, but it incessantly nagged at her. Noivern, poison, a blatant attack… the pieces fell into place like a complicated jigsaw, each one not quite fitting when they felt like they should.
She paused beside Mischief, who was staring at his paws. He'd not made a peep since they'd found the dam. Not even when they'd gone to find Tinker.
"Mischief?"
He looked up at her, his orange eyes wide and fearful. Something inside her twanged, but she didn't let it show. If he was in her care, then he needed a strong leader who wasn't swayed so easily. But it was becoming increasingly obvious he wasn't cut out for this kind of work. Putting him through all this was just emotional torture.
"Come on." She moved past him towards the cave mouth. "We need to investigate the forest."
She didn't look behind her, but the soft shuffle of paws over stone told her he was following. And that the former spring in his step had been brutally beaten out of him.
...
Enigma could hear the rushing water long before he saw the river. He still continued along with Harlequin, enjoying the zorua's entertaining company before their path would part ways.
The voices of the river pokemon rose over the rush of water as it smashed against rocks, careening its way long the treacherous, winding rapids. Away from the Shadow Lands, like every river in Estellis. A mob of black-furred rodents milled about the riverbank, hoisting cargo from a narrow ship and onto the wooden docks. Several feet away, a huge, fat raticate barked commands to his smaller kin. Nothing was going onto the boat, but it wouldn't be long before the rattata found themselves with an unexpected assassin on board.
Above them, perched in the branches of an oak, a morpeko watched the oncoming pair. Taut as a tightly coiled spring, the rodent's cheeks began to spark. But he didn't need to say anything.
Harlequin skipped over to the raticate, head held high. "Ahoy!"
Several of the rattata looked up as the zorua approached, and the raticate raised an eyebrow. The mob turned slightly on the defencive, tails raised, and a couple of them freed their paws as subtly as they could manage. Harlequin noticed, obviously. They wouldn't have become one of Hydreigon's aces if things flew so frequently under their radar.
"Nice boat," Harlequin went on.
"Aye," said the raticate. "Riverclaw's one of me best." He paused and twitched his whiskers. "Took a long time to build after a bunch o' weavile sank me last one."
Enigma chuckled under his breath. Oh, this was going to be good. He warped up into the branches of a tree, his bell just audible over the roar of the river. One of the rattata's ears twitched and he looked up into the branches, face pale. Then he pointed a claw and squeaked something the banette didn't catch.
Hundreds of eyes followed, fixing on the ghost. The raticate bared his sharp incisors and lowered his head at Harlequin.
"What are you two doin' over here?" he snapped. "We ain't done nothin'!"
"I was actually hoping I could travel on your boat," Harlequin explained. They gave a nod towards Enigma. "Can't speak for him, but I can assure you he won't hurt you."
Enigma examined his claws, saying nothing. The trembling rattata below him flocked around their boss, keeping their red eyes on the ghost in the tree. The morpeko looked ready to bound across to him at any moment, sparks sizzling over his patchwork fur. Enigma settled down with his back against the trunk, each jingle pushing the rat-mob's fur on end.
The raticate fixed a glare back on the zorua. "You want to travel on my boat?" He spat each word with disgust.
"I can pay?" said Harlequin. "I never expected a free trip. I need to get to the Moorlands quickly, and I know how fast and efficient your boats are. Being able to travel in this river? Most pokemon who tried to swim in it would end up dead."
An attempt at flattery.
The raticate's eyes narrowed. "Aye, that they would."
A threat.
Enigma tucked his paws behind his head and grinned. At this rate, Harlequin would need to steal that boat in order to ride it.
Harlequin looked up at the boat and clicked their tongue. "How much? Ten gold?" They turned back to the raticate, who's glare had widened into a look of utter bewilderment. "Ten gold to ride this boat under the protection of your crew?"
"Ten gold?!" the raticate wheezed. "I barely get one per crate!"
"Okay, ten gold and my word," Harlequin went on. "I won't harm a single member of your crew or any other outlaw on board, nor relay your journey, plans or location back to Hydreigon."
The raticate spat at that, but there was a glimmer in his eye. "Sparin' us outlaws surely means your own death?"
"You'd be aiding me on my quest to avenge Boomer." Harlequin shook their head. "I hardly doubt Hydreigon would care?"
The raticate puffed air from his nose and gave a curt nod. "Very well. Get on me ship. We set off as soon as every crate is unloaded."
Harlequin looked up at Enigma and smiled. "I guess this is where we part ways?"
Enigma waved a dismissive paw and settled back against the tree.
The raticate nodded in his direction. "What about him? I've not exactly had his word he won't say nothin'."
Harlequin looked up at Enigma again, meeting his eyes. It was only brief. The zorua tucked a small pouch of gold into the raticate's paws, then turned to head towards the ramp onto the ship.
"I can't speak for him," Harlequin explained. "But I highly doubt he's going to betray me."
The raticate muttered something inaudible and returned to stacking the crates on the docks. Money in paw, he was a lot more placated, yet still clearly disgruntled at giving a lift to one of Hydreigon's assassins.
Enigma toyed with the hem of his scarf, watching the ship curiously. Harlequin stood on the deck, paws on the gunwale, as they looked over at the racing rapids. Rattata moseyed around the zorua, stepping carefully, as they unloaded the remaining crates.
Already, Enigma could feel the boredom setting in. As soon as that ship left, he'd be travelling the rest of the way solo. Harlequin would most likely make it to the Moorlands before he did, and complete their mission, leaving Enigma to travel both ways alone.
How boring that would be.
He dragged his claws through his mane and groaned. Oh, he was going to regret what he was about to do. With a quick flourish, he manifested before the raticate.
The large rat screeched, keeling backwards with his stubby paws flailing. Enigma stifled a chuckle, but he couldn't hide the smirk. He leant against one of the crates and wiped his claws on his scarf.
"Room for one more?" he asked.
The raticate smoothed out the fur between his ears with both paws as he regained his composure. "And what are you gonna pay me? Eh?"
"How about I spare you and each and every one of your crew?" Enigma fixed the rat in a crimson glare. "You are traitors, after all."
A tremor ran through the rat from his ears to the tip of his tail. "V-very well."
Enigma nodded and kicked back from the crate, his scarf billowing around him. "That's what I like to hear."
He warped onto the ship, landing neatly beside Harlequin. The zorua looked up, their eyes twinkling with amusement, and inclined their head on one side.
"I thought you hated ships?"
Enigma scoffed and folded his arms along the gunwale beside them. "It would be boring to travel alone."
"When are you going to just admit you get lonely?"
"I don't get lonely," Enigma said bluntly. "I get bored."
Harlequin laughed and shook their head, turning back to the rushing rapids. Beads of water clung to the black fur of their face, sparkling in the noon sun.
"Whatever," said the zorua. "It'll be nice to have a bit of company, anyway."
"I don't know what company I'll be." Enigma eyed the water warily and turned his back on it, leaning against the cool, damp wood and glaring out at the outlaws. "But it'll get me there faster."
"You never know," said Harlequin. "Maybe you'll find your river-legs."
Engima felt there was a much bigger chance he'd suddenly sprout fins.
...
Hydreigon's library had been burned down a long time ago, taking any manuscripts with it. Yurlik didn't remember any of them. He wasn't a reader. But there'd been rumours of what it had contained. History. Folktales. Stories told to hatchlings. The library had been older than the Shadow Lands, but had been left to stand for years out of interest. Until Hydreigon had instructed the Wildfires to destroy it.
Regardless, Hydreigon remained focused on finding something that he'd discovered in that library. There was no record of its location, just a vague description. Yurlik had lost count of how many times he'd had to explain this to the various troupes scattered around the Shadow Lands.
"If we don't know where it is," said a noibat, "or what it looks like… then how can we find it?"
Yurlik glared up at the army of upside-down faces peering at him. Every small bat in his swarm had clamoured around, blocking the entrance to their shared cave.
"I told you, Echo," Yurlik spat. "It glows red. Hydreigon said you'll know it when you find it. That's all I can tell you."
"It could be under the earth, and we don't dig," said the noibat. "Even worse, it could be under water!"
"We have pokemon for that," said Yurlik. "You keep an eye open, and feed back to us if you need help uncovering it. Understood?"
"We can't take anyone else with us?" Echo asked. "No ground forces?"
"I need to spread them out as much as I can," Yurlik explained. "Estellis is huge, and this cocoon could be anywhere."
"And what would stop the Outcasts finding it first?" one of the other noibat asked.
Yurlik clicked his beak at that, and met the bat's large eyes. "I've been told if they find it, they'll die."
The swarm rustled their wings, a faint buzz growing in intensity as the noibat grew excited.
"Such power!" one of them said. "Does it really exist?"
"Of course it exists!" Yurlik snapped, plunging the swarm back into silence. "Do you question Lord Hydreigon?!"
Echo turned his head to glare at the smaller bat.
The noibat who'd raised the question looked shrewed and cowered back behind his allies. "Of course not…"
"Good," said Echo. "Watch your mouth, Rumble, or you'll find yourself cleaning the guano pit."
Yurlik cleared his throat, drawing Echo back to him. "So I can trust you with this task?" It wasn't a question.
"Well, if it will really help us take over all of Estellis…" Echo spread his wings and yawned. "Fine. We'll take off at sundown."
"Split into four groups," said Yurlik. "Your army is big enough to spread out over Estellis without weakening your forces too much."
Echo waved a wing, which Yurlik felt was meant to be a salute but seemed rather dismissive. The honchkrow's oily feathers stood on end along his back. He had to remind himself, despite the noibat's size, since Boomer was out of the picture the smaller bat had taken over the swarm. It wouldn't be long until he evolved. Yurlik might be his superior, but he didn't want to find himself on the receiving end of a boomburst just for riling up the noibat who was still adjusting to his new position of authority.
Echo turned to head back into his cave, but paused as he let out a small 'oh!' He turned his head back towards Yurlik.
"What about Boomer?" he asked. "Any news on his murderer?"
"Lord Hydreigon has sent Harlequin to deal with those pokemon," said Yurlik.
"Really?" Echo raised his eyebrows. "I heard it was a whimsicott who killed him?"
Disgust laced the noibat's words, along with a hint of disbelief.
Disbelief… it was safe to say that was the growing trend throughout the Shadow Lands. A whimsicott… one of those little grass-types couldn't fell a dragon, let alone a full-grown noivern. Not on their own. Even Yurlik was beginning to doubt the words of his own flock who claimed to have witnessed the massacre. Only two pairs of eyes, and two beaks to speak of it. The cowards had fled. Surely there could be some mistake?
But the evidence was there. Blunt trauma wounds marred the noivern's body, reducing him to a bruised and sticky pulp. And then there were the tell-tail tufts of white fluff stuck to the dried blood that coated his body.
"Yes," Yurlik told Echo. "It was a whimsicott."
Echo's lip curled and he pulled his ears back. "Really? I wonder what it could do to the rest of us?"
What, indeed?
Echo ducked back into the cave, and the swarm closed in behind him before they were swallowed by the darkness within.
His words lingered long after he'd gone. Yurlik stood there, shuddering.
What on earth was wrong with that whimsicott, that it could take down a dragon? Hydreigon had his concerns, but he hadn't voiced them to Yurlik. But the large dragon was definitely afraid. Enough so to put emphasis on finding that cocoon.
A cocoon that may or may not exist. Yurlik's own concern, one he dared not speak out loud.
He deeply hoped Harlequin could make swift work of that whimsicott, before it became a huge problem.
...
