Chapter Ten

Crawling in the Dark

Huddled in the corner of a courtyard alcove, Lynn rubbed her palms together in a futile attempt to keep warm. A chilly blast of wind shot through one of the arched windows, turning the stones beneath Lynn's bare feet into what felt like ice.

"Listen," Cro had said what seemed like hours before. "Spark and I've got a match to fight. You stay here until we get back. Got it?"

Lynn had nodded meekly at the time, but as she shivered against these hard rocks, she was fully regretting her choice. The Rainbow Wing pressed against the back of her shirt pocket, its metal surface tinged frost cold from the icy evening air. She didn't dare to take it out, for fear of dropping it in the rapidly darkening courtyard.

Wondering if she should show the Wing to Cro and Spark when they returned, the former forest girl readjusted her position with a wince. She'd been sitting still for so long that even the mot miniscule movements flooded her limbs with pins-and-needles.

Before Cro and Sparkacus had dashed off for their big battle, Lynn had considered telling them Mother Woodwort's story about the last heir and the bird of the seven rainbow feathers. She was almost positive that these two were the ones that Aeolus the Fearow had sent her to find. If she could pry just a bit more information from them, Lynn hoped that everything would fit together at last: the legend of the last heir, the Rainbow Wing, Aeolus' cryptic instructions, and all the other mysteries that currently overwhelmed her.

But still, she had held back. Sparkacus was still trying to be kind, but both the Pikachu and Cro still unnerved her. Not to mention that nearly everything about this city made Lynn dizzy just by remembering.

Pokémon like Sparkacus shouldn't be able to talk. Lynn had sometimes supposed that the rearranged syllables they often uttered could be some kind of language. But before setting off on her coming-of-age journey, the idea of Pokémon using Human speech, or acting in any kind of Human role, had been absolutely absurd. Now every time she heard Sparkacus speak in that clipped, clear voice, Lynn received yet another unpleasant jolt: her knowledge of the world outside Verdant Forest was riddled with nasty, gaping holes.

Whatever happened to the other people who left for their own coming-of-age journeys? Lynn mused, hugging her knees to her chin. Did they wander into places like Verdant City, too, just as confused as me?

None of the other forest children ever came back to the forest. They never told us anything about the outside world.

And as she sat there, chin resting on her kneecaps and jaw tightening, Lynn made a promise to herself. If I ever get out of this, I should go back to Verdant Forest myself. The others have a right to know what's in store for them once they turn ten. I had the right to know what would be in store for me.

Pressing further back into the snug alcove, Lynn gulped. She still had no idea why none of the other children had ever returned to the forest. And all the grim possibilities now rushing through her head weren't exactly reassuring. Determinedly shaking these thoughts from her mind, Lynn pushed herself even deeper between the rocks.

And was stopped by something else pushing back against her.

Jerking about in alarm, Lynn fell into a crouch. As she tore away, however, a pair of muffled thuds sounded from where she'd been leaning just seconds before. For a moment, Lynn froze in position, listening intently for any more noises. When there were none, she crawled tentatively forward and squinted through the shadows.

Two large burlap bags were laying on the floor of the alcove. They must have been resting in the back all along, becoming dislodged when Lynn bumped up against them. One of the bags had not been tied shut, and some of its contents were rolling about on the dark ground.

Groping forward, Lynn picked up a handful of smooth, round objects. Some of them had cracked open upon impact, filling the air with the pungent, easily recognizable scent of rotting Apricorns.

Lynn's nose wrinkled in a mixture of disdain and surprise. Curiosity piqued, she dragged both bags back into the open courtyard, where they were more visible.

Without a doubt, the first bag was filled with spoiled Apricorns. Lynn shifted through the ones she had scooped up from the ground and made out a variety of colors: blue, black, white, pink, and so forth. But why would someone go to all the trouble of collecting so many Apricorns just to let them fill with rot?

Lynn's mind flashed back to the boy with the baggy clothes, the one who had been gathering Apricorns in the grove just this morning. He hadn't known Apricorns could be used as food. But what else CAN you use them for? Lynn wondered as she shoved the spilled Apricorns back into their bag.

Perhaps the second bag held the answer.

Lynn hovered over the other sack for a good five minutes before her curiosity got the better of her conscience. Feeling guilty, she undid the knot with numb fingers and reached quickly inside.

More Apricorns? Lynn thought bemusedly as she brought one of the smooth spheres to the light. What?

Though the object in her hand had the same round shape and polished surface of an Apricorn shell, it bore no other resemblance.

All the color the object must have had as an Apricorn had been burnt away, leaving only a silvery-white surface accented with strange marks. Someone had also used a knife to separate the shell into two halves and fastened on a small hinge to hold them together. As Lynn peered more closely at the refined shell, she made out a silver button on one side. Tapping it under her thumb caused the shell to shrink to about a fourth of its original size.

Well, this is no Apricorn, Lynn thought confusedly, pressing the button again, which made the sphere expand. What on earth…?

"Oh no. Looks like somebody's been rather sneaky," an unfamiliar voice rang nonchalantly from above.

Startled, Lynn shoved the strange Apricorn back into the bag and made to tie the sack closed again.

A blow to the back of her head landed her flat on the ground. Head swimming, Lynn struggled to rise again. Problem was, someone had already planted their foot firmly against her back.

The streets were deserted by the time Null Allegard stepped into town. Glancing dispassionately at the darkening evening sky, Null hiked up several layers of heavy clothing to muffle his face. The night breeze was a bit nippy, and there was a peculiar smell floating in it as well. It reminded Null of rain-washed dirt and pungent pinesap, tinged with traces of fresh smoke.

Null's nose wrinkled and, despite all his thick clothes, he shivered.

He'd always hated the smell of smoke.

Blaming it on yesterday's rain and the newly lit Festival bonfires, the fleet-footed Human child trotted briskly down the empty sidewalk. In the distance, the lights of the Verdant Stadium swung in white arcs across the sky. Most everybody would be at the Stadium by now, watching teams of Ringed battle their way to the top.

Null, of course, had better things to do than dally around in a stand of bleachers. Stadium Master Corundum's phone call, for one, had provided him with an intriguing new challenge.

"I gotta find a bunch a' big sparkly feathers, huh?" Null had remarked before. "You wanna make a boa or somethin'?"

"Not just feathers!" Corundum had barked back. "I want you to find the Rainbow Wing. Preferably before another idiot picks it up and starts waving it around," he had grumbled almost inaudibly to himself.

Null's sharp ears had picked up that last comment with interest. He had heard whispered snatches about the Rainbow Wing before, among a couple of the more confidential Master circles. Some Ringed-loving extremist from Verdant, a Fearow by chance, had supposedly picked the Wing up and had been headed for refuge in the Citrus Archipelago. But if Corundum was asking for Null to find the Rainbow Wing now, the strange artifact had probably changed hands.

And Null had a couple ideas of who it might have switched over to.

There were a couple guards at the Stadium's entrances. Null slipped by a dozing Typhlosion before the Pokémon's companions had a chance to glance in his direction. Once through the arch, Null made a speedy turn and ducked down a nearby set of stairs.

The passages underneath the Stadium ducked and wove around with all the consistency of a writhing Ekans, but Null had been down here enough times to navigate efficiently. Pinpointing a second stairway only minutes later, the agile Human took the steps two at a time, hands hunting for the metal surface of a trapdoor. Finding it at last, Null heaved the door upward, skinny limbs straining with the weight.

With a rusted groan, the trapdoor gave way. Sighing in relief, Null scrambled into the cool air of the Stadium's secluded practice yard. There would be no one here tonight; all the Ringed were sure to be participating in the big matches down at the Stadium or working hard in town to prepare for the upcoming Festival tournament.

In theory.

"And what brings you here at this time of night?" rose an amused voice from the shadows.

Unpleasantly surprised, Null nearly shot back down the stairs. And really, it was only a stubborn need to maintain his trademark poise that kept him from fleeing.

"Jus' lookin' for a friend," Null shot back with as much casualness as he could muster. "Ole' Cro don't happen t' be 'round, do he?"

"He's fighting at the Stadium," the voice replied. "Need me to take a message?"

"Who're you?"

A sharp wind shooed the clouds away from the pale white moon, bathing the courtyard in muted lights. At the opposite corner was a teenage girl sitting cross-legged on a mound of burlap sacks. In the dimness, her only noticeable feature was the long, prematurely-white hair curling down from her ponytail. Her dark skin stood out against the lighter, coarse fabric of her clothes, as did the makeshift staff in her hands and the fluorescent orange Ring around her neck.

"Name's Valkyrie Lark."

Null sneered at this. This stuck-up Ringed girl sure put on airs, giving herself a last name in addition to her overly exotic first. There was no way her Master would actually call her that; whoever they were probably had trouble remembering just the far-too-ostentatious first part.

"You must be Null Allegard," Lark said evenly. "Cro's mentioned you before." She gave the sacks she was sitting on a small pat for emphasis. "We must have hundreds of color nuts by now, and the designs you've supplied have been pretty helpful. Keep up the good work."

"As long as Cro keeps me up-t'-date on th' Ringed bettin' scene, I'm happy t' oblige," Null said. "Fact, that's what I gotta talk t' him 'bout now. I'll come back when he's not busy."

Lark nodded, but did not budge from her position. For a moment, Null lingered, trying to see exactly what she was sitting on. Those sacks did bulge quite a bit for just color nuts. If, in fact, that was what they really held.

"Maybe you can catch Cro while he's coming out of the Stadium," Lark said sweetly, just the tiniest edge of steel creeping into her voice. "You'd ought to hurry. I think his match is ending soon."

Null took the hint. "Later."

But as the trapdoor slammed shut above, Null made a face and blew a wet raspberry. Cro and his cohorts were hiding something, all right. It was clear that Null would have to come back later to do some more snooping. And said snooping would have to be done extremely unobtrusively, so as not to attract any more suspicion. Hopefully, it would be worth the extra effort.

You're Verdant biggest Ringed rabble-rouser, Cro, Null thought. Don't disappoint me. If anyone wants their mitts on the Rainbow Wing, it's got to be you.

As Null exited the courtyard through the trapdoor, Lark heaved a sigh of relief. Shifting the weight of her staff into one hand, the Ringed girl sprang to her feet and kicked the burlap sacks off the prostrate form they had concealed.

Gasping loudly, Lynn raised her throbbing face and filled her lungs with frigid air. Lark's wide-set blue eyes filled her vision a split-second later; extending a dark-skinned hand, the older girl helped Lynn onto her feet.

"Sorry I had to do that," Lark apologized. "But Allegard's an Arbok in the grass, no question. We put up with him because he's the only one who'll bring us certain…items…we need."

Holding an arm over her bruised ribs, Lynn managed a weak, wheezing cough. "I-I think I've met him before," she choked. "On my way here. H-he was picking Apricorns…color nuts…in the forest."

Lark's nose wrinkled at this. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed a lock of hair from between her eyes back over her shoulder. "You're going to have to tell us your story at the meeting tonight," she informed Lynn. "Oh, and sorry I whacked you on the head. Cro did tell me you were here. He wanted me to come over and check up on you as soon as my shift ended. But when I saw you peeking at our stuff, my old anti-intruder reflexes just kicked right in." She punched the air to accentuate her point.

Lynn rubbed the bump on her head in a grimacing recollection. "Like how you hid me from Null?"

"Exactly. But, hey, you're nowhere near as shifty as Allegard. Besides, if Cro hasn't cut you to pieces yet, you're probably not that bad. Right?" She prodded Lynn teasingly with the butt of her staff. Lynn, for her part, grimaced. Lark had jabbed her right where Lynn's ribs had been crushed against the ground before.

"A meeting?" Lynn asked faintly, massaging her sore sides. "What kind of meeting?"

"You'll see soon enough," Lark answered with a wink. "Now help me put these bags away. We have to get things ready before the others arrive."