A/N - Thanks for all reads, reviews, faves and follows! (I know I've forgotten to reply to some faves/follows recently!)
12 - Fire and Poison
Mischief bobbed along ahead of Cleo and Spark. Harlequin's satchel swung from his neck like a pendulum, encased in a bubble of purple energy. Cleo trudged after him, her ears unfurled and humming away like a swarm of beedrill. Harlequin's bag wasn't light. After jigging things around several times, hanging it from the unconscious whimsicott had seemed the best decision. Sure, if the zorua awakened and found enough strength to retrieve it, Cleo's psychic wouldn't exactly be a formidable barrier, and Mischief in his current state wasn't exactly much of a formidable guardian. But none of them really had much choice.
Spark skipped along beside Cleo, acting as Cleo's ears. With her psychic humming away, she was at a disadvantage to listen for any small noises that could signal a further threat. Harlequin wasn't known to work alone very often. They were famous for travelling with another assassin. One who was often heard before he was seen. The thought alone made Cleo's heart race, and she found herself checking every small shadow - the flutter of a leaf, a small wispy cloud passing the sun… anything.
They'd long since passed where the noivern had fallen, turning west and heading deep into the forest. Tinker hadn't been clear about how far west they needed to head. Just that somewhere in the forest was a large tree. A large tree that would get them into New City's cells.
Cleo was beginning to grow impatient. All she could see around them were your standard trees, with no opening into New City at all, save for the occasional vent hidden away near the top, unseen to the untrained eye. This deep in the forest, the canopy grew close together, branches intertwining and knotting together, blocking out most of the light. It left them with a very uncertain sense of time. It could easily be evening, bringing with it more threats.
Cleo forced her way through a thick sea of stinging nettles, wincing as her paws crunched over the prickly stems. Spark had no trouble, slipping between each one as if she did it every day. Thorny bushes and prickly ferns grew among them, each plant trying to strangle the other out to no avail, forming an unpleasant barrier across the unused path.
A low growl resonated by her right ear, and Spark looked up from amid the leaves of a razz bush.
"Cleo?" The dedenne's voice wavered.
Cleo glanced to her side, catching the glint of sharp canines as Harlequin struggled to raise their head. Great. They'd regained consciousness. A bite at this range would be wildly unwelcome. The zorua was still sluggish, fighting off the effects of the paralysis. Their claws twitched against Cleo's shoulder as they strove to do as much damage as possible in an attempt to break free. They weren't much of a threat in their current condition, but a risk was still a risk. It was also not feasible to render them unconscious again, either. Not without potentially dealing fatal damage. They needed the zorua alive. They had to know what was going on, and Harlequin may very likely have that information.
Cleo turned and pressed onward, and Harlequin hissed as they were dragged through the stinging plants.
"Cleo!" Spark squeaked. "What are you doing?"
"I'm asking myself that same question."
"Put her down!" Spark scampered ahead of her and waved her paws. "We can ask for help, and-!"
The foliage thinned, and Cleo stepped through it with Spark at her heels. Whatever she'd said had either faded or been cut off as the pair of them stared out at the burning forest. Thick black smoke curled up from the blazing foliage, stinging Cleo's eyes. She slapped a paw over her muzzle to block out its bitter suffocating smog. Houndour swarmed through the inferno, torching everything in sight. Just beyond them was a huge tree, guarded by a formidable houndoom. The sleek, black dog threw his head back and let out a blood-curdling howl that made Cleo's heart freeze.
Harlequin lifted their head and their claws tightened around Cleo's shoulders. The zorua's breath came out as a low, pathetic whine.
Cleo trembled from ear to tail as she took a step back into the nettles. The houndour zipped past her, and the lead one sent a flamethrower right over her head into the canopy. Harlequin slipped from Cleo's shoulders, landing in a crumpled heap behind her. Harlequin let out a scream of protest which fell on deaf ears. Cleo stared at the desolation for a fleeting heartbeat before her senses kicked in and she twisted away and bolted, dropping to all-fours. She didn't even feel the nettles. Spark scampered on ahead of her, pausing to check the feline was following. The small dedenne lead the way through the tangle of prickly stems. On the wind, Cleo heard Harlequin's frantic cries as they pleaded desperately for their life.
Cleo ran until her lungs were fit to burst, burning with a cold fire. It wasn't until the pair finally came to a stop inside the thorny branches of a razz bush that she realised she'd made a fatal error.
She'd dropped Mischief in all the chaos.
...
The grovyle milled around the office, dwarfed by the expansive shelves that swarmed over the walls in a chaos of organised paperwork. Loose papers littered the lone desk that she filed into various colourful binders in a methodical fashion that bordered on the obsessive. She muttered to herself incoherently, the odd word coming out louder than the rest, although she seemed oblivious to it. 'Wrong!' and 'Nonsense!' were frequently voiced as she placed the files back on the shelves, or glanced between the one she was holding and the one that had clearly offended her before violently switching them. If she noticed her own variating volume she didn't show it.
Her mutterings only ceased when a soft jingle emanated from the corner of the room. Her entire body stiffened and her eyes became impossibly wide. Just like many other pokemon before her, she wished she'd only imagined that sound. The fear spread across her face as a shadowy figure emerged from beside the potted palm.
Her reaction elicited a chuckle from the assassin and he sank back against the door, grinning at the quaking grovyle.
"Enigma?" she stuttered. "What… what are you doing here?"
The banette tutted and shook his head slowly. "Oh my. You don't seem too happy to see me?" He paused and inclined his head on one side. "Mint, right?"
The grass-type's jaw went slack and a brief silence passed between them. "How did you-"
"The rockruff on watch duty told me."
"Oh." Mint licked her dry lips and hugged the folder to her chest tightly. "Why are you… I mean… I've not… have I? I don't understand."
Enigma stared at her coldly and she shrank back further against the desk. He almost expected her to start begging for her life. Instead she took a deep, steadying breath and ran a paw over the long leaf trailing down her back.
"Why would Lord Hydreigon send you here?" she choked out. "To me?"
"Hmm… why, exactly?" Enigma looked up at the ceiling and scratched his mane. "I've been sent to find out which Heretics were visited by a noivern. One passed by here recently." He locked his crimson gaze on hers. "Were you visited by a noivern?"
She shook her head sharply. "No. No, we've not been visited by a noivern."
He continued to stare at her and a sly grin tugged at his lips. "Are you lying to me, Mint?"
"No!" She shook her head again, more violently, causing the long leaf to sweep some papers off the table. "No one has visited us from the Shadow Lands in months!"
"Allow me to narrow it down for you, see if we can ring any bells." He warped from the wall and appeared before her with a loud jingle.
Mint squealed and stumbled back from the desk into the shelves. One of them came loose and rained its contents down upon her. She lifted her arms to shield herself and screwed her eyes shut tight as folders pelted her slender body. Enigma stretched out a paw and plucked one of the binders from the air before flopping down into the little desk chair. He idly flipped through the contents, barely taking it in.
"It was Boomer," he said flatly, looking up to meet her stunned expression. "Does that name clear away any fog?"
"I know who Boomer is." She gazed at the paper spewed over the floor, and with a defeated sigh she sank against the wall. "We've not been visited by any dragons. You have the wrong base, Enigma."
"Well isn't that a pity." He closed the folder and tossed it onto the desk. "I was hoping to finish this little task quickly. Searching for all of your hidden bases is rather dull." He stood and approached her, taking her head leaf in his claws. "I was rather hoping to play with you a little longer."
He let the leaf trail through his claws, watching as she turned from a deep green to a sickly lime. She let out an audible gulp. He returned it with a sinister grin and twirled with a flourish to march back towards the door.
"I can tell you where they are if that helps?"
Enigma quirked an eyebrow and looked back at her. "Oh? You're in contact with them?"
"Of course…" She wasn't looking at him, instead gazing from the small window.
"Then maybe you can cut my quest short? He was sent back with a message to Hydreigon. One he was meant to deliver with some haste."
"I don't know about any message." She turned her head towards him. "Besides, if he had a message for Lord Hydreigon then why do you want it?"
"Because it didn't reach him."
The grovyle's eyes widened and she looked away from him again. Silence. She hadn't expected that. Maybe she did know something?
"There were some… complications," Enigma told her. "So the message never reached Hydreigon. If you know what it is, then it's in your best interest to tell me." He leant back against the door and examined his claws, feigning a somewhat bored expression.
It had the desired effect. Mint trembled from head to foot until the feathery leaves adorning her arms rustled.
"I can assure you, Enigma, I have no idea."
"Well the answer is believed to be in this vicinity." He narrowed his eyes at her. "You said you're in touch with the other bases. Are there any more around here I should know about?"
"Not… a base." She swallowed and glanced away from him. "Just a lab."
Enigma's eyes widened. "A lab you say?"
She nodded stiffly, as if giving away such knowledge pained her.
"I'll visit this lab. But if I find out you've been keeping any information from me…" He examined his claws again and a huge grin spread across his face, "then I'll be back to deal with you."
She grimaced and placed a paw on the desk to steady herself. "Please… I've told you everything I know."
Enigma smirked. "I hope so, Mint."
"The lab isn't far from here." She looked up and fixed him with watery eyes. "You'll hear it before you see it."
Well that was interesting.
"Anything else?" he crooned.
She screwed her eyes shut and shook her head, letting a lone tear leak over her scaly cheek.
"Very well." Enigma lowered his claws and wiped them on his scarf. "Then you'd best hope deeply you never meet me again."
He phased through the door, leaving the grovyle to sink, sobbing, to the floor.
...
Cleo barely breathed. She crouched, braced to run, peering through the thorny branches. No sign of Mischief. No sign of Harlequin. Not a single bark from the houndour. Had they gone? Had they really not noticed her? She'd expected them to give chase. Her heart hammered at her ribs, urging her to flee. But she couldn't. She'd left Mischief to an unfortunate fate amid that inferno.
She crept forwards, her nose twitching at the air as it rustled the bitter razz leaves. Not so much as a hint of smoke. What was going on?
She exchanged puzzled glances with Spark, who shifted on the spot with unease. "We need to go back for him, Cleo."
"I know." Cleo's voice was barely a whisper. She strained her ears, but there was nothing. "I can't see any smoke or fire."
"Maybe the Guild put them out already?"
"You really think the Guild has seen off the Wildfires?" Cleo scoffed. "No… Something isn't right. Why would Hydreigon send them this way?" She grimaced at that. He'd already sent Harlequin, hadn't he? "Maybe… maybe there's something here he wants after all."
"I really think we should go back and warn Tinker," said Spark. "Sitting here isn't helping."
Tinker!
Cleo's eyes widened and she reached into her bag. Her claws fastened around the cold plastic shell of Tinker's communicator. They weren't outside the boundaries of New City. If it really worked, then they could contact him from where they sat.
She pushed the red button, and Spark hopped onto her shoulder for a better look. Almost immediately Tinker's voice responded, crackling. A little too loud for Cleo's liking. She gave a wary glance back towards the invisible inferno.
"Cleo?" A trace of worry marred his voice and she realised she'd not responded yet. "Is everything okay?"
"Ah… Tinker." She fell to her haunches and clutched the communicator in both paws. "No… I… we found the tree. But… Oh, Tinker. The Wildfires are there!" Her voice tapered out into a strangled whisper and she stared wide-eyed back up the path of nettles. "I lost Mischief when I panicked. I couldn't… we just ran!" She screwed her eyes shut. "I'm so sorry."
A throaty chuckle came from the speaker and she opened her eyes again to glare at it.
"Are you laughing?" she growled.
"I'm sorry, Cleo." She could almost picture him wiping a paw across his eyes. "I should have warned you. What you saw is merely an illusion."
"An illusion?" she gasped.
Spark shook her head slowly. "No. I'm afraid we're gonna need a better explanation than that."
"Remember, girls. I told you that the entrance is secure," Tinker explained. "What you encountered is a complex barrier Grey created. It plays on the fears of those that encounter it, playing it out as a vivid illusion in an attempt to drive them away." He paused. "As you can see, it works quite well."
"So what we saw… was just an illusion?" Cleo hissed. "I find it rather convenient that you forgot to tell us that."
"I needed you to see it for yourselves, since you doubted me."
Cleo closed her eyes and sighed. "Tinker… not only did I drop Mischief, I also abandoned Harlequin."
"Pardon? You dropped Harlequin?!"
"I wasn't going to carry a pokemon that size while fleeing from the Wildfires, was I! She'd slow me down!"
Tinker sighed, a static buzz filled with accusation. "Cleo… never mind. Just meet me at the tree. Maybe Harlequin is still there? In fact… I can almost count on it."
The communicator cut off and Cleo glared at it before stuffing it into her bag. "Come on, Spark. Mischief might have come to his senses by now and be looking for us."
She ducked from the razz bush and sniffed the air cautiously. Definitely no smoke. If it was an illusion like Tinker had said, it was incredibly life-like. She couldn't even begin to hope to create something like that. Grey's skills were incredible.
She crept back through the nettles, keeping her wits about her perchance Harlequin was waiting in ambush. But the zorua lay just outside them in a sprawled heap, one paw stretched out as if they'd been scrambling to get away. Smoke curled up from the grass, and the chilling howl came from the houndoom once more. Cleo froze, fixing it with wide amber eyes. Her gut instinct told her to flee, and she ducked back into the nettles.
"Come on, Cleo!" Spark dived from her shoulder. "He said it isn't real!"
Cleo watched Spark's tail as it vanished beyond the nettles. She forced herself after the dedenne, finding her stood beside Harlequin, gazing up at the howling flames.
"Whew boy, it's really life-like." Spark trembled slightly and forced herself to look away to examine Harlequin.
Cleo crept into the blazing inferno, feeling the heat lick over her fur harmlessly. It gave her peace of mind that it definitely was nothing more than an illusion.
"You see the same thing, right?" she asked Spark.
"Of course I do," said the dedenne. "Blazing fires… those dogs… all the screaming… you just have to close your eyes and tell yourself it ain't real." As if to demonstrate, Spark squeezed her eyes shut and lowered her head.
Screaming? So it did play out differently for each pokemon. All Cleo could hear were the howls and the horrible crackle of burning wood.
"Well… first things first," said Cleo. "We'd better find Mischief. Maybe he's hiding?"
She searched around her, finding the whimsicott lying a little way away from Harlequin. Still out cold. It was an inconvenience she'd just have to deal with. She left him to return to Harlequin. Once the zorua was back on her shoulders then she could lift Mischief.
Harlequin didn't respond to her presence. Their ribs rose and fell quickly, almost as if they were gasping for breath.
Spark twitched her nose at Cleo. "I think she's fainted."
Cleo made a thoughtful noise and hoisted the zorua onto her back. "I wonder what she saw?"
"Makes you wonder," said Spark. "I often think the Darkness aren't scared of anything. They wouldn't cause all this suffering if they were scared, right?"
The pair turned towards the flames, and Cleo's blood turned cold. Spark gave her ankle a reassuring pat.
"Just do what I do," said Spark. "Close your eyes, lower your head and run. Don't even look up!" With that, the dedenne sped towards the tree.
Cleo swallowed bile and pushed herself on, staggering under Harlequin's weight. When she was close enough to Mischief, she lifted him in a bubble and picked up pace, screwing her eyes shut like Spark. It did nothing to block out the noise swirling through her mind. She half-expected the houndoom to lunge at her at any moment, to feel his hot fangs fastening around her neck.
A pair of paws fell on her shoulders and she screamed, dropping Harlequin and Mischief once more. Tinker flinched back from her and looked between her and the two unconscious pokemon.
"Cleo!" he said, lifting his paws. "It's just me."
Cleo suppressed a growl as it rose in her throat, and stooped to gather Harlequin. Tinker stopped her and took the zorua almost effortlessly, slinging them across his back like a shaggy cloak. Cleo, silently thankful for his aid, scooped up Mischief in another bubble.
Tinker looked up at the big tree and let out a long whistle. "You almost forget it isn't real, don't you?"
"Really?" Cleo glared at him. "Tell me… what do you see?"
"I suppose we'd better get inside," he said. "Harlequin might wake up soon, and I'd much rather not be on the receiving end of an assault."
He carried Harlequin with alarming ease towards the opening in the base of the tree. The houndoom reversed towards it, fixing Cleo with crimson eyes that seemed to burn right through her. Cleo gulped and screwed her eyes shut, moving Mischief ahead of her towards the tree.
Tinker stood just inside the opening with Spark, patiently waiting for Cleo. Once she was safely inside, he popped his Guild badge into the stone slab and it rolled aside with a soft grating sound. He let Cleo in first, and the slab closed behind him.
A dark staircase wound down into the shadows, and the smell of mildew wafted up on the cold air. Tinker took the lead, his paws slapping over the damp stone. It was a far contrast to the fresh and earthy smell she'd grown familiar with in New City.
Candles dotted the walls, their orange light flickering and shimmering over the stairs. They seemed to grow more wet the further down they went, and Cleo had to watch her step for fear she might slip and send Mischief tumbling down the rest of the way. A move she was sure he wouldn't appreciate.
The stairs ended in a wide room with heavy iron doors barring their way. Muffled angry voices came from the other side, along with cries and sobs. The fur bristled along Cleo's spine and she wasn't sure why. The atmosphere? No… it was deeper than that. Some psychological response she struggled to analyse.
Tinker pulled out a large iron key and unlocked the door, releasing the muffled sounds into the hollow room. Slurs and insults, shouts of profanity. Each one warring to be heard above the other. Cleo stepped into a tunnel lined with smaller iron doors, each one sporting a barred window with a view of its occupant. She was surprised at how many weren't empty. Weavile, sneasel, scraggy, nuzleaf… so many faces looked back at her. She noted an umbreon curled up in the back of one of the cells, glaring at her with tired, red eyes. She hadn't seen any eevee or its evolutions in years. Each cell was darkened with thick layers of mildew that spread up the stone walls and congregated on the ceiling. Other sharp smells mixed with it - fear, sweat and ones Cleo didn't even want to think about.
"This," said Tinker as they filed through the noisy cells, "is where we keep the dark pokemon that are currently being interrogated for information. Some of the Guild's best soldiers work here, so it's a place of high security, as you've already seen."
Spark peered over the walls and her nose crinkled. "Wouldn't hurt to brighten it up a bit, though, eh?"
"That's not necessary." Tinker stopped at another door. Painted on it was a red triangle with an exclamation point. He fumbled the key-chain while juggling Harlequin about his shoulders.
"Need a paw with that?" Spark asked.
"I'm not sure you could reach," said Tinker.
"Oi!" Spark's whiskers crackled. "If you weren't my boss I'd give you a good shocking!"
A smirk spread across Tinker's muzzle, but he didn't look up from the key chain.
"What's this room?" Cleo asked.
"High security cell," he explained. "I feel it's more fitting for this one."
"She's one small zorua." Cleo stepped forward to steady the zorua on Tinker's back.
"Harlequin is notoriously known to be an escape artist." Tinker swiftly unlocked the door and shoved it open with his foot. "Besides, this is a private room. I don't really want the other prisoners listening in."
He led them inside, and Cleo was surprised to find the room was a lot wider and quieter than the corridor of cells. Once the door was closed behind them, most of the noise was nullified. A huge cell adorned the far left wall, a wall of iron bars set close enough together that the wiliest of sneasel couldn't slip between them. They were also thick enough not to be bashed to smithereens by a tyranitar, or gnawed through by a persistent raticate.
Tinker set Harlequin in the cell then, leaving the door open, left the zorua to rummage through the lone desk in the room. Cleo stared warily at the open cell door, but Tinker wasn't long. He returned to Harelquin and snapped a strange white collar around their neck.
"What's that for?" Cleo asked.
"Security reasons," said Tinker. "Would you please join me for a moment? I can show you what I mean."
Cleo exchanged a shrug with Spark and set Mischief on the floor before joining Tinker's side. In one fluid motion, the riolu twisted and swiped at Cleo's ruff. She let out a shrill mewl and raised her paw to her neck. Tinker didn't seem to care. He finished fussing with the collar and stood up.
Cleo met his eyes and growled. "Would you mind telling me what that was for?"
"I told you," he said as he shooed her from the cell so he could lock it. "Security. I needed some of your hairs for your own protection."
Cleo leant back against one of the cell's bars. "I think I need a bit more of an explanation."
"Later," he said. "Right now, I want to see what this zorua has in his bag."
Tinker untangled the bag from around Mischief and set it on his desk.
"And what about Mischief?" Cleo asked. "Are we just leaving him to come round on his own?"
"No. I have a nurse on site," Tinker explained. "I've asked her to collect him, but she appears to be running a little late." He opened the bag and the first thing he removed was the large purple horn. "A nidoking horn?"
"Yes," said Cleo. "She attacked us with that."
Tinker turned it in his paws, examining the wooden handle it was mounted to, and the intricate tribal pattern painted along the horn's surface.
"So I guess when you picked it up you used the handle?" Tinker asked.
"Yes, I'm not stupid, Tinker."
"That's reassuring," said Tinker. "Because if you were poisoned by this, you'd be in a lot of trouble. The anti-venom is as rare as the item itself."
Spark scratched behind her large ears. "You can't just use pecha berries?"
"While pechas are good for curing poison," said Tinker, "they aren't a fail-safe. Some poisons are too potent to be neutralised by a mere berry."
"Huh!" Spark blinked, dumbfounded. "The more you know."
"Then what would you use?" Cleo waved a paw at the weapon. "Say one of us did get nicked by this thing. How would we cure it?"
"It needs a very specific anti-venom," said Tinker. "One designed to counter that of a nidoking."
"So… the opposite?" asked Cleo.
"Yes. And what is the opposite of a nidoking?"
"A nidoqueen," said Spark.
"Precisely."
"Wha'?" Spark looked up at Cleo and shrugged. "I was joking."
"Well you are right on this account," said Tinker. "Nidoqueen venom can counter that of a nidoking, and vice versa. It would at one time have been rather easy to come by, but when the poison-types rebelled against Hydreigon, they were wiped out. Nidoking and their evolutionary lines have been eradicated, and none have been sighted in years. They used to be quite populous in these mountains. It's a wonder this assassin here has managed to acquire such an item."
"Does she have the anti-venom in there?" Cleo reached for the bag but Tinker swatted her paw away.
"She wouldn't be a very good assassin if she didn't, Cleo. What if she accidentally poisoned herself?"
Spark scoffed. "Wouldn't be a very good assassin if she poisoned herself, either."
"Exactly."
The voice had come from the cell. A high voice that now, no longer muffled by the nidoking horn, had an aggressive undertone. It seemed to contrast with the zorua's sparkling eyes and small, pointed features which were blanketed in an oddly shaggy coat that looked like it needed a good groom. Add to that the over-sized ears and Cleo found herself questioning the zorua's age and gender. All of Hydreigon's assassins were male, so Harlequin had taken Cleo by surprise at first. Now she was doubting herself. Was this zorua merely a cub? A formidable cub? No… that was impossible. The name 'Harlequin' had been circling for many seasons.
"Oh. You're awake." Tinker turned back to the zorua's bag. "That's convenient. We have some questions for you."
Harlequin rolled over onto their stomach and pushed up into a sitting position. They lifted their right paw and flexed their claws. "Looks like the little squirt's paralysis is wearing off." They grinned at Cleo and her friends. "I'll be out of here before you know it."
"Squirt!?" Spark spluttered electricity, sending a stray jolt into Tinker's fur. "I have every right mind to shock you again!"
"Don't." Tinker smoothed the fur around his shoulders and cast Harlequin a glare. "He can't do anything. That collar represses all his special attacks, and the bars on that cage are designed to restrain a dragon-danced salamence."
"Oh really?" Harlequin opened their jaws wide, then a look of bewilderment crossed the zorua's features. They snapped their jaw shut again and licked their lips, lowering their head.
Tinker raised an eyebrow. "Trying a dark pulse? Try all you want. It's pointless."
Harlequin pawed at the collar with a back leg, shoving it to force it past their ears to no avail. "What on earth is this?"
"Science." Tinker returned to rummaging through the zorua's bag. "Now… am I right in assuming that one of these bottles is an antidote for the nidoking horn?"
"I don't carry an antidote."
"Really?" Tinker looked up at Harlequin with some surprise. "Seems rather foolish."
"What would be foolish is poisoning myself on my own weapon," Harlequin explained. "A good assassin doesn't make it to my level by poisoning themselves. And, if you know my reputation, you'll know that I'm an elite."
"An elite who is now trapped behind bars."
Harlequin's fur bristled along their back and their hackles rose. If Tinker noticed he didn't react.
He looked up at the door. "Where on earth is that nurse? Now…" He reached into the bag and pulled out a long string of black thong. A heavy golden ring swung from it, and inside it a strange orb twirled back and forth on a pin. "What is this? I've never seen anything like it."
Harlequin's eyes widened, blazing with a sapphire fire. "Put that back!"
"Here, Cleo. Have you ever seen one of these?" Tinker handed the necklace to Cleo.
"Put it back!" With what strength they had left, Harlequin launched a full-body tackle at the bars. Their jaws fastened around it, snarling and snapping, scrabbling with their claws.
Cleo feared for a moment that the zorua might slip through the bars, but that was impossible. She watched as Harlequin gnawed at the metal bars, leaving a streak of bloody saliva along the rough metal. She tore her eyes away to examine the strange item in her paws. It was heavy, and the orb appeared to be made from glass. A black and white shape coiled down the centre of it, which seemed to warp as the glass ball rotated in its golden prison.
Cleo shook her head and handed it back to Tinker. "I've no idea what it is. But going off her reaction, I'd say it's pretty important."
Tinker nodded, glancing a the zorua. "I'd say so. Harlequin! What is this?"
Harlequin lay with their jaws still fastened around the bar, breathing heavily. Their eyes were wild and fierce, almost insane.
Tinker nodded again and handed the item back to Cleo. "Keep hold of it. I want to make sure it's well out of Harlequin's reach, while we work out what it is."
"No!" Harlequin barked. "Put it back! Give it back, right now!"
"Are you going to tell us what it is?" Tinker demanded.
"Not yours! Now put! It! Back!" With each word, Harlequin thrashed their paws against the iron bars.
The door to the room opened and an audino poked her head around it. "My. What a racket!" She stepped into the room and pointed a wary claw at Harlequin who was once again gnashing at the bars. "Is he the one you want me to treat?"
"No, no." Tinker waved a dismissive paw at the whimsicott, who was now starting to stir. "It's him. He passed out with exhaustion."
The audino crouched down beside Mischief. "He seems to be waking up, but I'll give him a check over. Can you stand?"
Mischief sat up and rubbed his fluffy head. He grimaced and removed his paw, looking at it as if it had morally offended him. "Why do I hurt?"
"Because Cleo dropped you," said Spark with a grin. "Twice!"
"What?" He looked up at Cleo, who flushed and diverted her gaze. "Why?"
"Come on." The audino looped her arm around him and helped him to his feet. "I'll get you some fresh oran juice."
"Where am I? It smells funny."
The pair left the room, their voices soon drowned out by Harlequin's frantic screams.
"Cleo." Tinker drew the meowstic's eye. "Let's finish this conversation in the staff room, where it's quieter. No one will be in there right now, so we can go over what I want you to do."
Cleo pursed her lips. That didn't sound reassuring. "But… we've not asked-"
"Later." Tinker waved a paw. "He's not going to tell us anything in this state, is he?"
Harlequin's cries had finally come to a stop. They lay panting with one paw stretched through the bars of their cell. Their eyes lacked that fierce fire, now angry and wet with unshod tears.
Tinker ushered Cleo from the room, and Spark hopped from the desk to Cleo's shoulder as she turned to leave. Her mind was swirling with questions, and she was silently grateful that Tinker wanted to relocate them elsewhere. Without Harlequin as a distraction, nor listening in, Cleo could voice them without concern.
The staff room was located a short distance from the private cells, two doors along. She assumed the other door lead to another private cell, and she briefly wondered if anyone was occupying it. The staff room was pleasantly less musty than the other rooms, with a sharp clean, clinical scent that stung her nose as she entered. The lack of mildew marring the walls suggested it had been scrubbed clean recently.
Tinker closed the door behind them and Cleo turned to face him.
"So what do you want to discuss?" She picked up a glass of hot berry juice from the table and warmed her paws with it. "Do you think Harlequin worked with that absol to poison the river?"
"The thought crossed my mind, and I won't rule it out." Tinker leant back against the table and sipped his own drink. "But that's not why I brought you here, Cleo. The absol situation is being dealt with by a different Warrior team. But I do have a request of you."
"Oh?" The note in his voice unsettled Cleo.
"I'm a little concerned." Tinker swirled the contents of his glass. "No. Make that very concerned. This turn of events has set off my alarm bells. Since that noivern showed up in the area, Harlequin's appearance has… raised some flags. Either there is something huge that Hydreigon is after in the Moorlands, or you three have a price on your heads."
Spark mirrored Cleo's wide-eyed expression and lowered a razz berry she'd harvested from the table. "Hang on! What are you suggesting?"
"I didn't see the noivern's body," said Tinker. "So I can't say for certain. But I am beginning to wonder if it was Boomer, one of Hydreigon's aces, as you know. That would be the easiest explanation. Did Harlequin have a particular target in mind during your fight?"
"Yes." Cleo's mouth turned dry. "Mischief."
"Oh yeah!" Spark nodded and took a bite of her berry. "Didn't pay much attention to us two."
"That cinches it then," said Tinker. "If you've ticked off Hydreigon by killing one of his top aces, then this is huge. He is one ace down and will stop at nothing to exact revenge. This would be a prime opportunity to start thinking about moving in on Hydreigon and finally getting rid of him."
Cleo's glass shattered to the floor, and she leapt back as hot, sticky liquid sloshed over her paws. She fixed Tinker with a livid stare. "Are you crazy?! Move in on Hydreigon?! His army is… fifteen times the size of ours!"
"An over-exaggeration, Cleo."
"I'd say its an under-exaggeration," said Spark. "He outnumbers us a lot!"
Tinker waved a paw at the dedenne. "Allow me to continue, girls, please."
Cleo bit her lip, but her glare never left the riolu.
"Since we've found Mischief, I've been doing some thinking," Tinker explained. "If we found more of that new type, our armies would increase in strength significantly. We'd have a huge advantage and could turn things in our favour! Let's face it, Cleo. Mischief's glittering attack could likely take Hydreigon down in one hit! Imagine what an army could do?"
Cleo let out a flustered sigh and leant her paws on the table. "Okay, Tinker. You have a point. But where do we even start?"
"I haven't a clue," said Tinker. "But I'd start with seeking out where Mischief came from. If there are more of his type there, then you could find out where they originated. Perhaps even recruit them."
Cleo's livid glare returned and she flashed her canines. Spark spluttered out her berry.
"The Heretics?!" they snapped.
"You seriously have some questionable ideas, Tinker," Cleo growled.
"This is only a suggestion," said Tinker. "But given Mischief appears to have come from a Heretic laboratory, there's no saying the bio-weapons they create are being turned into such voluntarily. Don't rubbish it before you've uncovered anything. There's every possibility Mischief is merely a victim. Now…" He gazed into his glass, choosing his words carefully. "This brings me to the next part of my request. I want the three of you to take Harlequin with you."
Cleo's jaw fell open and she found herself at a total loss for words.
"Yeah…" Spark frowned up at Tinker. "You've completely lost it."
"Harlequin?" Cleo spat. "You want us to take an assassin with us?! She should remain behind bars! It's dangerous to drag her around with us! There's no way she'll co-operate!"
"Yeah, she could kill us!" Spark squeaked. Then she paused, thought briefly and added, "She'll definitely kill us!"
"I've considered all that," said Tinker.
"What, in the five minutes you've had her here?" Cleo's tails bristled like a pair of cacti. "Why on earth should we be expected to drag one of Hydreigon's most dangerous murderers with us?"
"As a hostage." Tinker fixed Cleo with his good eye. "Let's face it, Cleo. If Harlequin has been sent after you, and doesn't report back, then it won't be long until Hydreigon sends out his other aces to target you."
A chill ran through Cleo's body, and she felt the blood leave her cheeks.
"Exactly," Tinker said, reading her perfectly. "That means Enigma, Ripwing… and Howlinger and the Wildfires."
"Howlinger…" Cleo put a paw to her head. Everything began to spin and turn fuzzy, replaced with the image of a blazing forest and hundreds of black, howling shadows racing through her mind. A blazing inferno of death and destruction.
And it would be coming for her once more.
"Cleo?" Tinker rose to his feet, but his voice sounded echoey. Disjointed from reality.
The last thing Cleo remembered seeing was the room on its side.
...
A/N - A fun little game for fellow fanfiction writers - what would your main character see if they encountered Grey's illusion?
Please R&R! =D
