A/N - Thanks for all reads, reviews, faves and follows! =D

21 - Schemes and Separation

With rapidly fading strength, the vast grasslands seemed a lot bigger than they actually were. Enigma's chest screamed with pain with every panicked breath, forcing him to finally come to a stop. He gave a wary glance back towards where those screeches had long faded. The tall grass hid most pokemon, and there was no sign of Harlequin and the others. Nor was there any sign of that deranged grass-type. That meant it hadn't chased him.

Perhaps he could actually get some rest and check over his wounds?

Enigma clutched a paw to his chest as he desperately tried to calm his frantic breathing, and began scanning the area for everything he needed. A place to rest and lay low for a while, and berries. Not that he liked berries, but most pokemon turned to them for the medicinal qualities they possessed.

His heart sank as he quickly discovered the orchard was well behind him, and there was no way he was staggering back there. It had been a difficult enough trek already. The grasslands were overrun with tangling goosegrass and spiky thistles that had seemed intent on dragging him back with their angry thorns. All that remained of the orchard were a few prickly brambles and overripe razz berries. They wouldn't speed up his recovery, but for now they'd have to do. He staggered over to them, keeping his left paw clasped over the right side of his chest. A tart smell wafted on the breeze, tickling his nose, and he looked up to follow it. Standing a few feet away was a slender tree with a winding, knotted trunk. Its branches fanned out around it, each one heavy with ripe sitrus berries.

Perfect. They were just what he needed.

He summoned what was left of his strength and leapt towards the tree, vanishing in mid air. He manifested awkwardly in the branches, steadying himself against the trunk as his feet slipped beneath him. He muttered under his breath and settled in the crook of the branch. Overripe sitrus berries hung around him like wrinkly ornaments, and he plucked one free and bit straight into it without removing the peel. Tangy, sour juices filled his mouth and he stifled a gag, forcing himself to swallow it. But a sharp stab in his throat caused him to immediately choke, each racking cough sending shock-waves of pain through his torso. He caught the offending object in his claws and leered at it.

Stupid seeds.

He tossed it to the ground and stared at the remaining berry, resigning himself to finish it, and much more carefully this time.

Now he was off the ground and somewhat safer, he took the opportunity to examine himself. His fur was marred with blood, which still flowed freely although he couldn't tell where it was coming from. Deep purple patches were visible beneath his smoky grey fur, particularly on the right side of his chest which looked to be swelling. He gingerly dislodged a few goosegrass burrs, but swiftly gave up as his body complained. Something was clearly broken.

Oh well. It would heal. He'd just have to avoid combat for a while.

He couldn't see his own face, but his left eye was sore and was swelling shut. He'd managed to fend off most of the attacks thrown at his face, which had resulted in his arms getting a thorough beating. His left one protested with every movement.

That whimsicott…

Enigma licked sitrus juices off his claws and grimaced, not at the tart juices but at the effort of lifting his head to look back the way he'd come. Still no movement from the grass. It wasn't giving chase, that much he was certain.

He sighed and settled back against the trunk, leaving it a moment before reaching for another berry. That whimsicott was the one that had killed Boomer. Enigma hadn't quite believed it. How would a fluffy pom-pom gain the upper paw in a fight with a noivern? Deep down, Enigma had thought it was only down to the silly noivern letting his guard down. But Rio had spoken of a new type… That whimsicott had landed almost every hit on Enigma, even when he'd tried to phase out and slip away. Normal attacks wouldn't have stopped him, but that was clearly no normal attack. Was it that new Type18? It hadn't been like any attack Enigma had recognised. It was too child-like, reminiscent of the way a hatchling might play.

It was made all the more sinister and unbelievable by the expression the whimsicott had worn. Deranged, maniacal… Enigma had seen something remarkably similar very recently. Yes, back at the lab. That tyranitar… the madness in its eyes was just like that whimsicott's. A lack of control, a desire to kill whatever was before it.

Rio had been keeping that tyranitar chained outside his lab, like some kind of wild pet.

Enigma took a fierce bite out of another berry, sending stinging juices all over his chest. He stifled a hiss and wiped at them gently with a paw, rubbing the juice into his fur. It stung like crazy, but that only meant it was working.

The tyranitar… the whimsicott… Rio obviously knew something. Enigma had dealt with the tyranitar, but that whimsicott was still out there. The Heretics had unleashed a monster, and it was travelling with the Outcasts and Harlequin.

Harlequin…

Enigma closed his eyes and flinched.

He'd left Harlequin to deal with that whimsicott. Enigma had fled like a coward. Harlequin and those other two pokemon were likely dead now, all because he'd not been able to handle it. Every attack Enigma had tried to counter with had been parried. That child-like attack might have looked naive, but the whimsicott had known what it was doing. It had taken every opportunity to land a hit while keeping Enigma's off it. He'd barely got in a scratch. It was little wonder Boomer had been reduced to such a pitiful state. The dragon hadn't stood a chance.

Enigma licked his claws clean and gazed off into the distance, back towards the Moorlands Forest. Rio had definitely been hiding something. It was glaringly obvious to Enigma now. Was it a mistake to chase after the Outcasts first? He was in no physical state to deal with Rio. But he had to get the information somehow. He'd get it, then he'd clean up the mess afterwards.

...

"Oh come on! Just get up!" Harlequin paced back and forth beside the fallen meowstic. "We're losing precious time!"

That whimsicott had long since vanished, leaving his friends behind as though they were nothing to him. Spark had been the first to wake up, but it was impossible to see where she'd wandered off to in the long grass. Harlequin swiped at a thistle, cleaving it with sharp claws. It brushed against Cleo's foot, but the meowstic didn't even stir.

"Oi!" The dedenne's shrill voice caused Harlequin's ears to prick. The dedenne staggered backwards through the grass, dragging something heavy through the tangled goosegrass. "I found your bag!"

"Oh perfect! He didn't run off with it." Harlequin trotted over to her, stopping short as the collar snapped back. "Bring it over here so I can find what I need."

"Nuh-uh!" Spark folded her arms and tapped her little foot, glaring up at the zorua. "This bag is chock full of poisons. How do I know you're not just gonna try and poison us?"

"Because it wouldn't benefit me right now!" Harlequin snapped.

"Yeah it would," Spark retorted. "You'd have one less Outcast to worry about."

"Yes, and be tied to a dead weight!" Harlequin let out a low snarl and jerked their head towards Cleo. "Or did you forget that only she can remove this collar?"

Spark twitched her nose in thought. "Huh. Fair point. Okay then." She scurried behind the bag and gave it a hefty shove towards the zorua. "Go on then. But I'm watchin' you."

Spark stood back and watched as Harlequin rummaged through the worn satchel, dragging out various berries and dried meat. A plump pecha rolled across the grass to stop by Spark's paw. The dedenne's mouth watered involuntarily and she fought the urge to snatch it up. Harlequin let out a small 'aha!' and dragged their head back out of their bag. A green leafy plant hung from the zorua's jaws, peppered with tiny orange flowers.

"What's that?" Spark asked with some revulsion.

"Bitter herb." Harlequin's voice was muffled by the plant. "Nasty stuff. This oughta wake her back up. Here." Harlequin lowered their head towards Spark. "Take it and shove it down her throat."

Spark's whiskers crackled and she met the zorua's eyes. But Harlequin simply nudged the dedenne with the herb. Realising the zorua was being serious, Spark took it and shot Harlequin a warning glare.

"You're certain this will wake Cleo up?" Spark asked.

Harlequin nodded once and grimaced, flicking out their tongue with disgust. "Trust me. If she's alive, that herb will shock her awake."

Spark looked between Cleo and Harlequin, then hopped up onto Cleo's chest. The meowstic's mouth was slightly open, which Spark was silently grateful for. It would make the job a lot easier. She crept along Cleo's chest and stuffed the leaves of the bitter herb into her mouth.

Cleo immediately spluttered and sat bolt upright, sending Spark tumbling off her into the grass with a 'whoops!' Cleo wiped her paw across her mouth, grimacing with the effort. She stretched, cringing at the pain in her back. Her head throbbed, and she placed a paw against it as nausea radiated through her body.

"It worked!" Spark hopped around her to rejoin Harlequin.

"What on earth was that?" Cleo croaked as she reached into her bag for an oran berry. "Actually, never mind. I don't want to know." She took a cautious bite out of the oran, and the flavour caused her stomach to lurch. She took a few deep breaths then slowly turned to address Spark. "How long was I out?"

"Too long!" Spark declared around a mouthful of pecha. "When I came too, I found Harlequin panicking. And I was out for long enough." She inclined her head on one side. "Are you okay? You look a little off."

"I'm fine." Cleo flinched and rubbed her head. "Just took a bit of a beating. I guess… Mischief must have let us be? Where is he?"

Harlequin bared their canines and growled. "We've long lost him now."

"Oh." Cleo grimaced at the thought and swallowed her mouthful. "Where is he now?"

"Haven't a clue," said Harlequin. "Someone attacked him and he took off after them. I didn't bother to watch."

"Did you see who it was?" Cleo asked.

"No. They vanished before I saw them." Harlequin turned their face away from Cleo, bringing an end to that little statement.

Cleo couldn't help but think Harlequin had more to say than that. Cleo sighed and silently finished her berry. Searing pain shot up and down her back with every movement, but the oran berry was beginning to do its job and take the edge off it. She ventured to stand, squeezing her eyes shut in a grimace as her head throbbed. The entire world spun around her, and she steadied herself against the tree beside her. She adjusted her bag gingerly and squinted off into the distance.

"Then we need to go and find him," she said. "We can't leave him alone out there. He's probably already woken up somewhere, with no recollection of what's happened."

Harlequin stood and raised a paw. "And what about Enigma?"

"What about him?" Cleo shrugged.

"He's wounded!" Harlequin snapped. "He needs help! He doesn't carry berries with him, and you saw what that monster you call a friend was doing to him!"

"Mischief is not a monster." Cleo narrowed her eyes at Harlequin. "And I don't want you calling him that again. Understood?"

Harlequin scoffed, but seemed at a loss for words.

"Mischief is our friend," Cleo continued. "And he's sick. He needs our help right now, and we're going to find him."

"Yeah? Well Enigma is my friend," said Harlequin. "And he needs my help. More than your so-called friend does."

"Really?" Spark wiped her paws on her torso and inclined her head on one side. "Because I didn't get the impression that you two were friends at all."

A low growl rose from Harlequin's throat. "You know nothing, rodent!"

"I think I learned plenty in that scenario," Spark went on. "Enigma made his feelings pretty dang clear if you ask me."

Harlequin lunged towards the dedenne, jaws snapping. Spark leapt out of the way and scurried up onto Cleo's shoulder. The zorua bounced off the bracelet's protective field, landing nimbly in the grass.

"Hey!" Cleo snapped.

Harlequin seethed at Cleo's feet, ears tugged back flat against their skull.

Cleo glared into the zorua's livid blue eyes. "There'll be none of that!"

Spark shook her fist. "Yeah, you want a shocking?"

"None of…" Harlequin looked between the dedenne and meowstic and took a step back. "She says anything to me like that again, I'll bite off her puny head!"

"Yeah?" Spark's whiskers crackled. "You try that and I'll fry your insides!"

"Stop arguing!" Cleo's voice resounded over the plain, bringing the other two to silence. She placed a paw against her head, flinching at her own voice.

Harlequin recoiled back from her, looking away. But Cleo could clearly see the tears glistening in those sapphire eyes. Spark had struck a raw nerve.

Cleo sighed and ran a paw through the fur between her ears. "Look, Harlequin. Friends argue, okay?"

Harlequin's ear twitched towards her and they fixed one eye on the meowstic.

"Enigma probably didn't mean what he said," Cleo finished. "But we are not going after him. He might be your friend, but just like you, he isn't our friend. And I am not putting myself or Spark at risk by rushing off to help a wounded assassin."

"Really?" Harlequin sat down heavily and looked up at her. "I thought you bleeding hearts helped anyone in need?"

"We help Outcasts in need," said Cleo. "Not the Darkness that causes all our suffering."

Harlequin scoffed at that. "Then let me go and look for him!"

"No. You're our prisoner," Cleo said firmly. "I don't imagine if the tables were turned and Spark was injured that you'd let me go and look for her?" Cleo nodded as the zorua bared a canine. "Sorry, Harlequin, but this is war."

Cleo turned from Harlequin to look out across the plain. It seemed a lot larger than she remembered it. Mischief could be anywhere. He could even have gone back towards the abbey, or into the woods in the distance. There was also a big chance he was looking for them.

She sighed and twitched her claws at her side. There was only one of them who would have any idea which way he'd gone, and the thought sent Cleo's stomach plummeting deep into her gut.

She let out a small sigh and turned back to Harlequin. "I don't imagine you saw which way he went?"

Harlequin's eyes lit up and they laughed. "Oh! Of course… you were unconscious, so you have to ask me! Now… which way did your little monster go?" A sinister grin spread across the zorua's face, and Cleo narrowed her eyes in warning. Harlequin tipped their head on one side and chuckled. "I could tell you anything, couldn't I?"

...

Harbinger sat beside the whimsicott, watching him carefully. His chest rose and fell with each calm, steady breath. It had been a good while since he'd fallen unconscious. Quite abruptly, too. Harbinger had heard something crumple in the grass and had made the fatal error of looking back. Well… it could have been fatal. He'd managed to drag the whimsicott to the edge of the plain, and told Scratch and Claw to go on ahead of him. They'd be deep in the Endless Woods by now.

Harbinger didn't fully understand his own actions. He could have just left the whimsicott lying in the grass, but he'd felt the need to drag him aside to somewhere safer than the wide open plain. Harbinger put it down to curiosity. A desire to see the pokerus-induced state with his own eyes. The whimsicott didn't seem like a threat. Harbinger had seen him travelling with his companions, and he'd seemed a harmless, friendly-looking pokemon, albeit a little quiet. Perhaps even a little lost. Then the sudden turn… the violent actions towards those he called friends… only to then collapse shortly after.

So that's what the pokerus did. Just like Harbinger had read in those notes, it sent a pokemon into a crazed frenzy that ended once the affected pokemon fainted. It would only be a matter of time before the poor whimsicott ended up like that tyranitar…

Wait, what? Harbinger scoffed at his own thoughts. He was feeling pity for another pokemon? He was going soft.

A faint murmur slipped between the whimsicott's lips and his orange eyes fluttered open. He ran a stubby paw across his face then sat up with a start. He turned his head in all directions before finally landing on Harbinger.

"Where am I?" he asked. "Where's Cleo?"

There it was. Memory loss.

"Your friends are back that way." Harbinger nodded back towards the thick, long grass. "I don't know if they're still there, however. They could have been picked off by the Darkness by now."

The absol rose to his feet and turned tail to join Scratch and Claw in the Endless Woods. But the whimsicott's voice froze him, and his fur rose along his spine.

"Wait."

Harbinger looked back at him with narrowed eyes. "What?"

"Why aren't I with them?" Mischief asked, panic rising in his voice. "Usually, when I wake up, I'm with them. Or in a medical ward, at least…" He trailed off and stared down at his paws in his lap. His shoulders rose in a small sigh. "I lost control again, didn't I?"

"You could say that," said Harbinger. "I saved them. From you."

The whimsicott looked up with a start, his orange eyes widening. "I attacked them?"

Harbinger nodded once.

"But I was trying to save them!" The whimsicott lowered his head into his paws. "From that ghost… the one that jingles."

"Enigma." Harbinger growled the name and turned towards the woods. "Yes, you almost killed him. Pity… it would have been a great thing if you had."

"No! It would have been a terrible thing if I'd killed him!"

"He's an assassin." Harbinger jerked his head back to look at the grass-type. "Or to put it bluntly, a heartless murderer! He wouldn't have thought twice about killing you."

"But if I killed him, he wouldn't get the chance to change!" The whimsicott pushed himself to his feet. "Pokemon can change. I was told that by Rose once and I believe her."

Harbinger blinked a few times, staring back at the whimsicott. Had he actually just said those words? Harbinger had no idea who this 'Rose' was, but the idea of a pokemon changing in this day and age was absurd. He'd been in the Shadow Lands and he'd been outside them. The Darkness killed and the Outcasts ran. The Heretics… well, they do what Heretics do. And as for absol… they just stay away from it all.

"Believe what you want," Harbinger said boredly. "I'm leaving. You go back to your friends."

"I can't go back."

"Nonsense."

"I can't!" the whimsicott wailed. "What if… what if I hurt them?"

Harbinger ventured a glance back, and swiftly regretted it. The fluffy pokemon stared down at his paws as if they'd done him a great injustice. A look of terror was plastered across his face, and he let his paws fall to glance back towards the long grass. Harbinger swore under his breath at what he was about to do, and he marched over to the whimsicott, drawing his eye.

"So you're infected by a little pokerus," Harbinger scoffed. "At least you have friends!"

The whimsicott's eyes widened with confusion, and Harbinger found himself growing rapidly frustrated.

"Did they already know this about you?" he asked.

"Apparently." The whimsicott closed his eyes and looked away. "But they didn't tell me about it."

"Then they don't seem to care."

"They don't care about me?" the whimsicott gasped.

"They don't care that you're mad!" Harbinger barked. "They stick by you, knowing that you have these outbursts?! Then return the favour and do the same! Otherwise, you're going to find yourself alone in this world. And take it from me, this world isn't a nice place."

Harbinger turned his back on the grass pokemon and marched towards the tree-line. Smaller footsteps echoed his own, and he let out a quiet growl of frustration.

"Why are you following me?" he asked.

"I… I need your help looking for them," said the whimsicott.

"Well you're not getting it."

"You saved them from me, right?" the grass-type ventured. "So why not help us find each other?"

"I don't help other pokemon," Harbinger said bluntly. "And your friends would not be very happy to see me."

"Why not?"

Harbinger leapt to face the whimsicott, and the grass pokemon leapt daintily back from him with surprise.

"Do you even know what I am?" Harbinger asked.

"A pokemon." The whimsicott gave him a small smile. "Like me."

Harbinger blinked a couple of times and looked the whimsicott up and down. Was this pokemon serious? Perhaps the pokerus had done more damage than he first realised?

"Yes… I suppose I am, if you want to use an umbrella term," Harbinger said. "But we are different, nothing alike. You are a whimsicott. That… Cleo? She's a meowstic. And I am an absol. Now… tell me. What do other pokemon believe absol do?"

The whimsicott lifted his paws and let them drop weakly to his sides. "I don't know. I don't have any memories."

Harbinger snorted through his nose. Well that explained things.

"They believe we bring disaster and misfortune," Harbinger explained. "They fear us. They see us, and they either flee or try to kill us."

The whimsicott's eyes widened with surprise. "Why would they try to kill you?"

"Because they believe if they kill us, it will stop the disaster from coming."

"Oh." The whimsicott sank slightly and glanced away. "Then if we're your enemies, why save my friends?"

"I wasn't saving your friends," Harbinger scoffed. "Any other day, I'd have stood by and watched. My priority was stopping you from killing that zorua."

"Harlequin? Why?"

"Oh…" Harbinger chuckled and lowered his head so he was almost nose to nose with the whimsicott. "Because you're not allowed to kill him. That is my job."

The whimsicott took a small step back. "You want to kill Harlequin?"

"Oh yes." Harbinger stood up straight again, flaring his ruff. "It's been my goal for years, but he always slips through my claws. Now he's away from Enigma it should be a lot easier. I'm going to make that zorua regret what he did to me. And I am going to enjoy every minute of it."

...

Cleo glanced up from her map at their surroundings. They hadn't walked far. She was still trying to orient herself, but whereas the grasslands were drawn on the map, the ruins were not. She had no way to work out exactly which way they were headed. The map said there was a vast woodland named the Endless Woods surrounding a large clearing, which she assumed was where they were standing.

"Any joy?" Spark asked from Cleo's shoulder.

Cleo shook her head. "I think this is an error. According to the map, we're meant to be surrounded by woodland, but we're clearly not. Behind us is the Moorlands Forest, or what I thought was the forest. This says the Endless Woods are on all sides, separated by the Glen. We didn't even pass through the Glen."

"Huh." Spark sat down suddenly. "Well, bother."

Cleo sighed and tucked her map away. She'd been hoping to get some sense of where Mischief might have fled to. But their only answer according to the map was the Endless Woods. If he'd gone back the way they'd come, or deviated across the plain into some unknown territory, then they'd have lost him. Where did she even start looking?

She kept plodding on through the grass slowly, since her feet felt very unsteady and each step sent a nauseating pulse through her head. She stretched as much as she could to get a good look ahead of them. No sign of movement. Not even a murkrow circling overhead. The grasslands felt as desolate as they looked.

A low whine came from beside her and she turned towards Harlequin. The zorua was sniffing at a patch of grass that on closer inspection was dotted with fresh blood. Cleo grit her teeth together and took a step back. When she'd pulled Mischief off Enigma, she was fairly certain the whimsicott hadn't been wounded. Her vision was blurred with fatigue, but Enigma's condition had been as clear as day. If they kept heading in that direction, then they may end up walking straight into the banette's deadly embrace.

Cleo turned and moved away from the trail with a bid to put it as far behind them as possible, while staying alert for any other signs of the assassin. Harlequin whined with protest, struggling feebly against the collar's confines.

"What are you doing?!" Harlequin yelped. "He went that way!"

"Exactly," said Cleo. "I'm not following Enigma. I thought I made that very clear."

"I'm not talking about him, I'm talking about your crazy friend!" Harlequin glared up at her. "He went after Enigma, I can smell it."

Spark leant over Cleo's shoulder to frown at the zorua. "You said he was attacked by someone and chased after them."

"Yes, you're lying," said Cleo. "We're not about to walk right into a trap, Harlequin. So you can stop."

Harlequin's lips curled back in a snarl. "I'm not lying! I'm worried about Enigma. What if that monster snaps again and kills him?! He's in no state to fight back!"

Cleo turned her back on Harlequin, but she could feel the zorua's eyes boring into the back of her head.

"I know you don't want that to happen," said Harlequin. "You wouldn't have saved him if you did."

Cleo faltered, her paw twitching at her side. Why had she saved Enigma? This was war. Pokemon were killed left and right, and she didn't like it. No sane pokemon did. That assassin had been sent after them. He'd intended to either kill them or take them back to Hydreigon - and that dragon would have killed them, no questions asked. Mischief was guilty of killing Hydreigon's top ace, and as far as he was concerned, Cleo and Spark were also guilty for aiding Mischief. So why spare Enigma?

Cleo closed her eyes as the memory came back to her. Harlequin's desperate plea.

'I don't want to lose him too!'

A small espurr was lowered from a small burning window, screaming at her parents to come with her. To squeeze through a window much too small for a full-grown meowstic.

A tiny dedenne crying amid the ferns.

Two small lives thrown together as an unlikely pair tried to deal with losing everything they'd known.

Was Harlequin really no different?

Cleo chanced a glance back at the zorua, meeting their blue eyes. Desperate, glistening with tears. Cleo's ears drooped slightly. That's why she'd done it. Harlequin's reaction reminded her too much of herself. If she'd been able to tear that window open enough for her parents to escape, she'd have done it. If Harlequin could get free of their confines and run after Enimga, then they would.

And if Cleo was separated from Spark and wanted to know if she was okay, if the tables were turned… would she be begging her enemy to let her go and find her?

The short answer would be 'yes'.

Cleo closed her eyes and rubbed behind her ear. "Okay, Harlequin. We'll go and check on your friend - but on one condition." She raised a claw, silencing the dumbfounded zorua and stunned dedenne before either could speak. A look of surprise had taken over Harlequin's face. "I want you to be honest with me. Did Mischief really go that way?"

Harlequin licked their lips and lowered their head slightly. "No. He went that way." The zorua gave a nod towards the path Cleo had been about to take.

Cleo's heart sank as she stared down that path. The long grass seemed to stretch on for an eternity before it reached the treeline. If he woke up and headed back to look for them, and they'd gone after Enigma, the chances their paths would cross would be minuscule.

"What are you doing, Cleo?" Spark muttered.

"I'm beginning to wonder the same thing," Cleo replied. "But… I think I need to do this."

"I know you always want to help a pokemon in need, but an assassin?" Spark's whiskers twitched with frustration. "He was sent to kill us."

"He's in no state to fight," Cleo explained. "I doubt he'll have recovered that quickly. If he tries anything, a blast of my psychic will put him out of action."

She hoped the confidence in her voice would placate the dedenne. But Spark sighed and slipped from her shoulder to land at her feet.

"Okay," she said, peering up at Cleo from amid the long grass. "You two go and find him. I'll search for Mischief."

Cleo's heart felt like lead. "You're not coming with me?"

"Normally I would," said Spark. "But we've got to find Mischief before someone else does. He's as much in need right now, Cleo. He's got a price on his head. If he's still out cold, then he'll be easy pickings."

Cleo's paws turned clammy. She'd not been separated from Spark in a long time. But the dedenne was strong, and in that grass she'd be hard to spot. Cleo gave a curt nod and took a step back towards Harlequin.

"Okay," she said. "So we don't get lost, we'll meet at the edge of the trees over there. But if you run into any trouble, send me a Spark Signal."

The dedenne raised a paw in salute and turned to rush through the grass. In a split second, she was back and gave Cleo a fond smile.

"Same to you, sister." With that, Spark shot through the grass and this time she didn't return.

Cleo stood beside Harlequin, staring after her friend. Just Cleo and a detained assassin, looking for a wounded pokemon sent to kill her and her friends. Cleo's mouth turned dry and she became increasingly aware of the stinging claw marks still tormenting her back. If Enigma had recovered enough, he might be able to finish her off.

"All right, Harlequin." Cleo turned to address the zorua. "You can trail his scent, so lead the way."

Harlequin turned, nose to the ground, and lead Cleo through the tall grass. The zorua was silent, sniffing at the blades of grass as they zigzagged across the plain. Enigma had clearly tried every way possible to lose Mischief. After a short stretch, Harlequin blanked, lifting their head to peer over the top of the grass.

It wasn't a massive setback. They zipped through it, picking up pace. Cleo decided to break into a trot, allowing the zorua to continue their search more freely. Harlequin noticed this and their trot soon became a sprint. The zorua couldn't break out of their confines, so if Cleo wanted to get this over quickly then she had to keep on running herself. She pushed herself on, trying to resist the urge to stop. When she did, Harlequin looked back over their shoulder with an icy glare, the fierceness washed out by genuine worry. So Cleo pressed on.

They hadn't gone far before Harlequin's nose was in the grass again. A low whine left their throat and they lifted their head, turning it left and right. Cleo soon spotted what had disturbed them. More blood. More than a few mere spots of it this time.

The trail wasn't running cold. Harlequin had Enigma's scent again and moved more slowly, following it carefully along a patch of brambles. Just beyond it, Harlequin stopped. They looked up, confusion spreading across their face.

"I've lost it again," said the zorua. "It ends here."

"Could he have warped?" Cleo asked. "I think I saw him do that after he fled. Although… it is hazy."

Harlequin shook their head and sniffed the ground again, then the air. "It takes a lot out of him. He'd be too weak to warp too far."

Cleo raised her paws in a shrug. "Then we're at a loss. He clearly isn't here."

Harlequin snarled at her then raised their head. "Hey, Enigma?! Are you here?!"

Cleo hissed and turned sharply, ears pricked. The zorua's voice rang out loud and clear. Any nearby lurking pokemon would have heard it.

Harlequin's ears drooped and they inched closer to Cleo. But then something caught the zorua's eye. A sitrus tree, just a few feet away.

Harlequin took off towards it, and Cleo followed cautiously, searching the branches. If he'd managed to warp anywhere, then that tree was a good target.

Harlequin nosed around the roots, pawing at the earthy ground beneath it. "Seeds."

Cleo took a wary step back from the tree, bracing herself for an attack.

Harlequin gazed up into the branches, nose twitching at the air. "Enigma, are you there?"

A brief pause passed between them. Silence. Not so much as the rustle of a leaf.

"He was here," said Harlequin. "I can smell him."

"Well it doesn't look like he is anymore," said Cleo.

Harlequin sighed and turned away from the tree. "Maybe you're right."

"Look at it this way," said Cleo. "If he's not here, then maybe he's managed to recover?"

"I hope so." Harlequin gave one last glance back at the tree. "But I know how stubborn he is."

Cleo felt those words weren't aimed at her. She gave the tree a wary glance and lead Harlequin away from it, back the way they'd come.

...

Enigma watched Harlequin and the meowstic move away from him, back the way they'd come. Enigma had seen them coming a fair way off and had reduced his density until he was no longer visible to the naked eye. That meowstic may have let him escape once already, but Enigma wasn't willing to put himself at risk of an attack in his current state.

Why had they both been looking for him? Sure, Harlequin's unusual collar didn't allow the zorua to move freely without the meowstic, but surely an Outcast wouldn't be looking for a wounded assassin out of sheer kindness? No sane pokemon would willingly help another that had been sent to kill them. An opportunity, perhaps? The meowstic had simply tricked Harlequin into thinking she'll help, only to finish Enigma off when she got the chance?

Enigma licked sour berry juice from his claws as another thought took over his mind.

Perhaps Harlequin was no longer on his side. Their mind had been warped by the Outcasts, turned against the Darkness. Turned against him.

Enigma rolled his head back against the tree's trunk and groaned.

He'd never thought that day would come… But it was every assassins' duty to kill a traitor. If that was the case, then he'd have no choice but to kill Harlequin.

...

Thanks for reading! Please R&R! =D