44

Inviting Conversation

"'To be plain, I've found a way to turn those wretched rats into stone statues.'" – H. P. Lovecraft, "The Man of Stone"

Like Daisuke and the Yagamis, Mimi and Palmon had quickly realized what was happening outside. Takenouchi Toshiko had gone to the door immediately after SkullSatamon's attack had struck one of the higher floors, seen Garudamon, and even instinctively stepped outside to see if she could spot her daughter among the battling Digimon. But soon her guests had joined her on the balcony.

"It's started already," Mimi said. She turned to her partner. "Let's get downstairs, Palmon."

Toshiko reached out a hand and started to say something, but the pair were already off and running.

"Don't worry, Takenouchi-san!"

"We'll take care of everything!" Palmon added as she hurried to keep up with her longer-legged partner.

Left behind, Sora's mother turned back to the battle unfolding below. She had known that something dangerous was happening again; Sora had had to explain the situation to her as an explanation for why Mimi needed a place to stay. But Toshiko had hoped that the problem would solve itself without encroaching on her family's lives. Those hopes were shattered now, and she could only watch from above and whisper,

"Sora, everyone, please be careful."

Mimi paused as she was leaving the apartment building in order to give Palmon time to catch up. Once they were side by side again, they started out towards where they could see the battle raging. They had not gone far, however, before Mimi noticed a figure standing before them, and heard a voice call out, somewhat hoarse but not unpleasant:

"Excuse me, Miss. I would like a moment of your time."

Mimi and Palmon stopped where they were. The person was clearly a Digimon, though a humanoid one. Details were difficult to make out in the dim light between the buildings, but they could see the bat-like wings and fantastical aspect of the costume.

"Who are you?" Mimi asked. She had felt a prickling of her skin upon first seeing this strange being. It was likely that this was another enemy, but it was hard to judge from his courteous manner.

"My name is Phelesmon, and there is some very pressing business I have to discuss with you." He began walking slowly forward. It was not a threatening advance, but Palmon didn't like the look of him, and stepped in front of her partner.

"Don't come closer. What do you want with Mimi?"

Phelesmon stopped in his approach before replying.

"Nothing that concerns you, I'm afraid. In fact, if you could give us a few moments alone…" He took another step forward.

"Stay back!" Palmon warned.

"You are really being very unreasonable," he said, resuming his walk forward. "Please step aside."

She did not.

"Palmon, Evolve! … Togemon!"

"If you want to be that difficult about it," Phelesmon said to the cactus-like Digimon, "I suppose I can rise to the occasion."

"Stay back, Mimi," Togemon said, her expression changeless. Her partner retreated a few steps to give the two Digimon room.

"Be careful, Togemon."

"Sound advice," said Phelesmon, "But given too late." A three-pronged pitchfork materialized in his hand, and with surprising dexterity he threw it like a javelin. Togemon brought her boxing gloves up into a defensive posture, and the weapon was embedded in one of them. No one had ever seen what might be concealed by the gloves, but there must have been flesh of some kind, for Togemon yelped in pain, frantically shaking the punctured glove to rid it of the pitchfork.

Phelesmon, meanwhile, was describing a semicircle around his opponent, evidently trying to reach Mimi's position. Togemon noticed his intent and stepped to intercept him, punching with her uninjured hand. In response, Phelesmon, almost casually, lifted one of his black-gloved hands, effortlessly catching the boxing glove in his open palm. Shifting his hold, he grabbed onto the same glove with his other hand, and with only minor exertion tossed Togemon bodily into the air. His head tilted back to follow her.

"Demon's Shout!"

Phelesmon's mouth opened wide and a sound issued forth, like a long note played by a disused organ. Not only was the sound audible, it seemed to be visible as well, for a blast of violet energy rushed out of his open mouth and slammed into Togemon, who was sent flying. Mimi, who had watched the technique with astonishment, ran to follow her partner, who landed heavily in the space between Sora's apartment building and Taichi's.

"Are you okay, Togemon?" Mimi asked when she came across her Digimon and found her stirring but still on the ground.

"He's strong," Togemon answered. "He must be at the Perfect level. I'll have to evolve."

The girl nodded. There could be no doubt that Phelesmon was allied with the enemy. The time had come to fight again.

"Togemon, Super Evolve! … Lilimon!"

The fairy Digimon appeared standing upright, and Mimi stood up. It was the first time she had seen her partner as Lilimon for some while, and it was a welcome sight. Her thoughts were interrupted by Phelesmon's voice from somewhere overhead.

"I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but you have left me no choice." The demon hovered above them. He opened a hand and the fallen pitchfork leapt into his grasp. Lilimon took to the air, hoping to draw attention away from Mimi. She brought her arms together and launched her attack.

"Flower Cannon!"

Phelesmon clapped a hand to his chest and again opened his mouth, assuming the attitude of an opera singer. His droning, purple voice began again, and in the face of it Lilimon's energy blast slowed. Eventually it had stopped entirely, and as the note dragged on it faded away. Phelesmon stopped to catch his breath, while Lilimon and Mimi watched, bewildered.

"I will congratulate you," Phelesmon said at last. "You are much stronger than you look. But now…" He lunged forward, his pitchfork extended before him. Lilimon was quick enough to get out of the way, and the demon flew straight past her before doing a midair pirouette and facing her again. "And fast as well. I should have expected nothing less from a Chosen Child's Digimon."

So saying, he descended to the pavement, landing only six meters or so from Mimi.

"But I'm sure we've all had enough of this," he continued, addressing the human. "I only want to talk." Again he began walking towards her, and again Lilimon went on the defensive. The Flower Cannon was deployed, but not fired. Though Phelesmon was their enemy, his dogged affability was unsettling. She wasn't quite sure how to react.

"Stop!" was what she managed.

"If you want to talk, you can talk from there," Mimi said.

"I find good communication grows easier as distance between conversationalists lessens," Phelesmon answered, not slowing his pace.

"Flower Cannon!"

Phelesmon hurled his pitchfork again, splitting Lilimon's attack down the middle. The various projectiles continued on their way. Lilimon was unable to evade this time, and the demon's weapon shredded the petals concealing her hands before finding its mark. The Flower Cannon's blast had been diffused somewhat as the pitchfork passed through it, but Phelesmon was still peppered with its light.

Lilimon doubled over from the force of Phelesmon's attack. The pitchfork had vanished on contact, bursting into ribbons of luminous purple mist that curled about her limbs before dissipating. By the time it was gone her strength had given out, and she sank through the air to the ground, landing with a muffled thud.

Phelesmon, meanwhile, stood still, flexing his muscles experimentally. He had stopped when the shower of energy hit him, and there was now an expression of mild confusion on his face. In a few seconds, however, he shrugged.

"Well, that loosened me up a bit," he said, his voice as calm and confident as always.

Mimi didn't hear him. She was already at her partner's side, asking concerned questions as she helped Lilimon to her feet.

"I'm fine, Mimi," Lilimon said as a catch-all reply, though she did seem to be a little shaky as she stood again.

"That's enough," Phelesmon said. "I think it will simplify things for everyone if I take the liberty of…" He stretched out an arm and pointed one long finger at Lilimon. "Black Statue."

At his words the purplish mist which had appeared in the pitchfork's wake sprang up again around Lilimon's ankles. Like a coiling snake it began to rise, swirling up her boots and beginning to climb her exposed shins. But the real horror of the technique came in the mist's wake. A change was coming over every surface the luminous swirls crossed, boots and skin both. Everything in its wake was black, hard, and immobile. Petrifaction was creeping up Lilimon's body.

"Mimi… I can't move my feet." Even as she spoke tatters of violet mist were becoming visible at the tips of her fingers.

"Lilimon!" Mimi turned angrily to Phelesmon. "What are you doing?"

"Just taking the situation in hand," the demon answered, ceasing to point and walking slowly towards her. "Your friend was being disagreeable, but now I think she will leave me be for a while."

He came to a stop within reaching distance of the pair of them. Mimi still had hold of Lilimon, who was straining but unable to make much use of her solidifying arms or any use at all of her already petrified legs.

"Mimi…"

"There," said Phelesmon, stretching his arms wide. "Now we can talk."