Wanderer
Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon
The next two days at the Tower of Mastery after Korrina had divulged her history to Alain were the longest, most agonizing days of his life here thus far. Not much had changed—he still woke up at the crack of dawn, still pushed his body beyond its limits, still fell on his ass in the ring with Korrina—and yet everything had changed. Maybe he'd been going through the motions for so long here that the monotony had dulled his sense of time and space. It was easy to get caught up in the routine and work on autopilot, especially once his body acclimated to the rigorous workouts Korrina put him through after that first grueling month.
Now, his eyes were open, as though a veil had been lifted. He looked in the mirror and he saw a person he hardly recognized. Physically, he was in peak condition and better off perhaps than he'd ever been. The scars remained, but they curved around the dips in his restored musculature, pinched together to make room. Gone were the bags under his eyes, the gauntness in his cheeks, the vacant stare in his eyes that had lost the ability to focus when he left Lumiose. Shadows of his old life remained, and they visited him during the night when sleep avoided him like the plague, screaming and crying and giving him no respite.
But the guilt that shackled him like a ball and chain had become easier to drag around. He hadn't fixed the mess he'd made in Lumiose. He'd never outrun the past he'd left behind in the graves of his parents. And yet, the urge to run was gone. Looking back at the last several months, the weight of Korrina as she pinned him in a chokehold with his own arms and her knee pressed to his stomach, he realized he hadn't been running since he got here. There was no reason to leave.
"Well, if nothing else," Korrina said just inches from his face, a little out of breath, "the sight of you from this angle's starting to grow on me."
"If you wanted me on my back, you coulda just asked," he teased.
She hesitated, searched his eyes, and he took the opportunity hook his leg around her knee and flip them in a move Mack had taught him a couple weeks ago out of pure pity at seeing Alain get knocked down so often. It worked now, and in the blink of an eye, Korrina was on her back on the mat in Training Room Eight, her arms tangled up with Alain's as she maintained her chokehold.
Korrina's expression warped with shock and surprise and (dare he say!) a flicker of admiration, but before she could rip him a new one for pulling a fast one on her, Alain braved her chokehold and caught her in a kiss that had the unintended effect of loosening her hold on him. Her body slackened, and he took the opportunity to run his palm down the side of her. Her pink tank top had ridden up over her midriff, and they were both covered in the heat and sweat of their workout, but for a couple seconds he forgot all about it.
She curled her fingers in his shirt, bunching the sleeves, and there was a moment there when he could not remember his own name. Her breath hitched and he felt her chest expand, pressing closer, and he was ready to fall apart right there. About four seconds into the blissful oblivion that emanated from the electric heat of her skin under his palm, Korrina suddenly tensed. Alain was too slow to react in time, and before he knew it he was on his side, bodily thrown off, and Korrina was scrambling to her feet.
The door swung open and Gurkinn poked his head in. "Everything going well today?"
"Fine, just fine," Korrina said as she adjusted the hem of her top.
Alain groaned on the mat and rolled over onto his back. "Yeah, peachy."
Gurkinn smiled warmly. "Great. I just wanted to let you two know that I won't be joining you for dinner tonight. I have business in town, and I'll be back later."
"No problem, Grandpa," Korrina said.
Gurkinn nodded and let the door swing gently closed behind him. Alain watched him upside-down as the old man walked away through the glass.
"Dude, what is it about your gramps that makes me feel like a fucking teenager?"
Korrina kneeled down next to him and brushed his bangs out of his face. "I dunno, dude. Maybe the 360-degree view has something to do with it."
He sat up on his elbows and looked up at her. The ghost of a smile tugged at her lips, stretching the scar on her upper lip just enough to notice. "Creepy as that is, somehow I just don't give a shit."
"Well, I care. I'm a Gym Leader, you know."
"Tell me about it. I'm embarrassed to be seen with you."
Korrina laughed as she stood up. "Cute doesn't suit you at all, Titan."
Alain held out his hand for her. "Hey, I got you to smile, didn't I?"
She eyed his reaching hand and hesitated. "Alain..."
"Aw, c'mon, I'm not gonna pull you down when you're expecting it."
"You're predictable," she countered.
"No way, I'm mysterious and handsome from every angle."
Korrina rolled her eyes. "Oh, please."
He waggled his fingers at her, a silent plea. Sighing, Korrina took his hand and pulled, but he shot up with his other hand and overpowered her before she could retaliate. They landed together on the mat on their sides, and Alain burst out laughing.
"Oh my god!" Korrina shrieked. "You ass!"
Alain laughed and laughed, and he had her by the waist as he held on. Korrina pushed on his chest to get away, but her efforts were weak and wanting. Alain slowly calmed down and regained his breath. There were tears in his eyes, but he blinked them away and found her watching him.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey."
"It's not so bad down here."
Slowly, and if he hadn't been watching intently he would have missed it completely, Korrina's eyes softened and she smiled the way she did when she thanked him for trusting her with his deepest secret.
"No, it's not," she agreed.
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. What about everything that came after? At evenfall on those sleepless nights, he was still drifting somewhere, destination unknown. But come dawn, there was Korrina and her barbaric training sessions and the sweat and the mat and sometimes, oftentimes, if he looked carefully, there was this. And nothing, not the promise of a thousand nights' dreamless sleep, could compare.
"C'mon," she said, pushing up on one elbow. "Let's go another round. And for the record, I knew you were going to pull me down."
She got up and Alain rolled into a sitting position. "Oh, really? Then why'd you let me?"
"'Cause I'm such a kind and generous soul."
"Oh, please."
"What? What're you gonna do about it?" She eased into a fighting stance.
Alain got to his feet, re-energized. "I'm gonna kick your ass."
Korrina smirked, and he nearly gave up right there as his prurient imagination took over.
"Hah! Enough of your lies, Titan," she challenged.
With no time to indulge in fantasy, Alain threw up his hands in a block as Korrina flew at him, and he fell into step with her.
A medic employed at the lab patched Dexio up after the beating he'd taken from Calem, but Dexio's face was splotched black and blue under ugly, red scars of dried blood. His nose was lumpy where the medic did his best to reshape it, but it would take a Hyper Potion or two to fix the shattered bones in Dexio's face. Dexio had passed out from the pain, and he had been out cold since.
That was hours ago, and it was now a little after midnight. Grace still had not slept a wink, and she was on her third cup of coffee. Sycamore had ceased his protests since she returned to the lab with Dexio in tow, and his silence unnerved Grace. He pulled off the image of the unflappable, patient professor well, but this dark solemnity that had possessed him for the past few hours revealed a deep vein of ice underneath the layers of prayer beads and peace bracelets.
Grace did not speak to him as she paced the corridor of the medical ward. Sycamore sat hunched over his knees in a nondescript, grey chair next to a potted Bromeliad flowering a brilliant red and stared at the spot where the floor met the wall, deep in troubled thought. Calem had gone back to his bed at the end of the hall to rest, which meant chugging a Hyper Potion against the nurse's orders and waiting for it to stitch him back together faster than the Burn Heal was doing. No one spoke.
Finally, at about a quarter to one in the morning, the medic opened the door to Dexio's room and announced that he'd finally come to. Sycamore stood up and Grace downed the rest of her coffee, but before she could make her way to the door, Calem was pounding down the hall from his room with Klefki hot on his heels. He dragged the IV stand feeding him Burn Heal, but the bandage on his face was gone. The wound was healing quickly under the effects of the Hyper Potion, but the wound was still shredded and tender as new, pink skin sealed it up. His left eye was bloodshot, and he had the appearance of a demon marching to feast on an unwitting soul all dressed in white and pale with that lone, bloody eye.
"Is he talking?" Sycamore asked the medic.
"He will be," Calem interrupted.
The medic stepped aside for Calem, unwilling to get in his way and aggravate his injuries. Grace followed him in, and Sycamore was right behind her. Dexio was lying prostrate on a gurney in a hospital gown matching Calem's. His face was swollen and hardly recognizable, and his eyes were glassy and unfocused. But as soon as he saw Calem approaching the side of his bed, he jerked and scrambled into a sitting position.
"W-What do you want now? I told you everything I know!"
"Calm down, Dexio," Sycamore said, a hint of his famous patience in his tone. "We're going to ask you some questions."
The disarming note in Sycamore's voice did little to assuage Dexio, and his swollen eyes darted between his three unwelcome visitors.
"And then what?" Dexio said. "You send me to prison? Beat me some more?" His gaze narrowed at Calem, who returned it with icy calm.
"Depends on whether you tell the truth or not," Calem said.
Klefki jingled next to him and squeaked angrily down at Dexio, who shied away from the odd Pokémon.
"Gym Leader Clemont will decide your fate," Sycamore said, "after I explain to him how you've aided and abetted the kidnapping of my ward."
Dexio swallowed hard. Clemont was even younger than Calem and Serena, Grace recalled. He'd taken over as Gym Leader when he was just fifteen, but he was lauded throughout Kalos as a technical genius. He was responsible for Lumiose City's power grid—the entire city was powered by an army of Electric Pokémon that lived at the Gym in the city center. They were the reason X-Transceiver technology, still a relatively new invention from Virbank City in distant Unova, was wired all over Lumiose and its closest neighboring territories, including Santalune and Vaniville, making bird messengers in this small part of Kalos virtually obsolete. Clemont's ingenuity had also freed Lumiose from its previous dependence upon coal and natural gas previously used to power its public transportation system and imported from Dendemille and distant Hoenn (and relieved its coffers of the sizeable expense in the process).
But aside from his genius, Clemont was widely known as a Fulmen whose talent was recognized even by Champion Diantha, who'd come to Lumiose personally to show her support for his succession despite his extreme youth at the time. Grace had never met Clemont, of course, and she was glad of it. He was described as a sociopath and a misanthrope with more in common with his machines than with people. He rarely concerned himself with Lumiose City's governance, relying on the mayor to run the city in his stead, except in the matter of capital punishment. For that, he and his Electric Pokémon were the pitiless executioners. The city penitentiary was located in the bowels of the Lumiose Gym in Prism Tower, but it never remained full for long. Clemont was nothing if not efficient.
"Professor, please, I'm so sorry. I never meant for this to happen," Dexio said, voice hoarse and shaky on the verge of tears. "You have to believe me."
Grace advanced on Dexio and grabbed him by the collar of his hospital gown. "If you're so sorry, then tell me where that woman took my daughter!"
Dexio whimpered and shriveled up like a weed wilting under a harsh frost. "I-I don't know! Honest, I don't know!"
Klefki got in Dexio's face and jingled ferociously. Its silver arms and the keys it carried began to glow with a faint, silvery light. Grace let up and eyed the odd Fairy warily.
"What's he doing?" Dexio said. "H-Hey, stop that!"
Calem watched the scene unfold impassively. "Klefki's a Fairy, and Fairies can always tell when someone's lying. Klefki can see it in your heartstrings—your fear. That glow means he's getting ready to use Flash Cannon. Klefki's small, but one word from me and at this range, that Flash Cannon'll melt your face to the bone."
"Calem," Sycamore said, the warning evident in his tone.
Dexio sank deeper into his pillow in an effort to put distance between Klefki and himself. "No s-stop, please! I don't want to die!"
"I didn't want to see my best friend get abducted and nearly have my arms burned off!" Calem spat. "But we don't always get what we want."
Dexio was sobbing openly now, his wet eyes wide and glistening as they reflected Klefki's silver sheen. "All right! All right, I-I'll talk, I'll tell you everything I know! Oh god, just please get that thing away from me!"
"I don't believe you. Klefki, go ahead."
Klefki's keys vibrated as it focused its energy, and its jeweled heart pulsed in rhythm—three, two, one.
"She said something about Mega Evolution!" Dexio sobbed.
Sycamore went slack-jawed, and Calem put out his hand. Immediately, Klefki powered down and turned to peer at him. Dexio was shaking like a leaf and looked so small swaddled in white. A foul odor wafted in the air, and Grace realized he'd soiled himself for the second time since she found him. Against her better judgment, a part of her felt sorry for him. She had never seen this side of Serena's facetious best friend, or of the tiny Klefki, for that matter. Calem, Gym Leader Clemont, even Serena. Theirs was a world beyond Grace's reach, and it was as dark and ugly as it could be mystifying and magical. Would he have done it? Would Calem have allowed Klefki to attack an unarmed man? Would he kill so easily? Would Serena?
Something told her Sycamore's train of thought was not far off from hers as he rubbed his mouth to hide his shock and disgust, but whether at Calem or at Dexio, she could not be totally sure.
"Mega Evolution?" Calem said as Klefki hovered back to him, its beady black eyes still trained on Dexio.
Dexio closed his eyes and let his tears stream in silence. His lower lip quivered, his shoulders hunched and exposed his collarbone. He was broken. "Yes."
Sycamore found his voice and slipped past Grace to stand on the side of the gurney opposite Calem. He put a hand on Dexio's shoulder and softened his gaze. "Dexio, tell me exactly what happened. How did Malva know to come to you about Serena? What did she say about Mega Evolution?"
Dexio latched onto Sycamore's small gesture of kindness and curled toward him. Calem met Grace's gaze and nodded, and it took everything she had not to avert her gaze or shy away.
"I'm s-so sorry, Professor," Dexio wept, sniffling.
Sycamore patted his head. "It's all right. You made a mistake, I understand that. But if you tell us what you know, that will go a long way to make up for it."
Dexio looked up at him with wide, dewy eyes, and this time Grace did look away. Nothing Dexio said would absolve him of this, and everyone knew it. She could almost hear the lies he was telling himself that this would all be okay, that he'd go back to his life after all this was over, anything to move beyond the possibility of his death by mutilation standing just inches away on the other side of the bed.
"Malva, she—" he began, trying to control the quake in his voice. "She knew about Serena. I mean, about a M-Magus. That's why she came to me."
"How did she know?"
Dexio blinked and looked down, ashamed. "I told... I mean, I talk a little when I've had a few drinks, and I was with a woman, t-took her to Le Chalet, that romantic place, you kn-know it?"
"You told a stranger about Serena?" Grace said, aghast. "Are you out of your goddamned mind?!"
"I w-wanted to impress her. I'm so sorry," Dexio wept. "It's a cozy place, you can hear other tables nearby. Malva, she... She must've overheard, 'cause she came to me with cash wanting to know more about the Magus."
"Unbelievable," Calem said, eerily quiet. "You ran your mouth and now anyone could know about her."
"You mentioned Mega Evolution," Sycamore pressed before Calem could spook Dexio again. "What did she say about that?"
"N-Not much," Dexio admitted. "I just asked her why she'd pay me so much for a little useless information, and sh-she said something about how she was helping with s-some project to learn more about Mega Evolution, I don't know, really. She was vague. I just remember she wasn't leaving until I t-told her about Serena, where she lived, any family or friends, that s-sort of thing. But honest, that's all I know. Please, please believe me. I had no idea sh-she'd kidnap her. She didn't seem like the type."
Sycamore looked up at Calem. "Well?"
Klefki hovered silently next to Calem, calmed. "Looks like he's telling the truth this time."
Grace shook her head. "No, you haven't told us where this Malva took my daughter."
"He doesn't know, Grace," Sycamore said. "From everything you and Calem have told me, it sounds like this woman knew what she was doing. She would not have let that kind of information slip if the goal was only to extract information from Dexio."
"Please," Dexio whispered.
Sycamore released him and wiped his nose. The smell was starting to become uncomfortable. "That's enough for tonight. Dexio, you're not going anywhere, so I suggest you get yourself cleaned up and comfortable here."
He jerked his head toward the door, and Calem followed him out. Grace cast one last, hollow look down at Dexio, who could not even look at her as he continued to sob pitifully. Outside, Grace closed the door to Dexio's room and followed Sycamore, Calem, and Klefki down the hall a short ways to Sycamore's personal lab, where he powered up a desktop and sat down.
"What's this about Mega Evolution?" Calem pressed. "You've been studying it a lot lately, right?"
"That's right," Sycamore said, a little distracted as the computer's home screen flashed and he began clicking through a series of folders. "It's a type of evolution, for lack of a better word, that some fully-evolved Pokémon are able to attain with the help of a Tamer partner."
"What does this have to do with finding my daughter?" Grace asked.
"If my hunch is right, possibly everything."
"How? What does this Mega Evolution have to do with Serena?"
Sycamore found the file he was looking for and let out a sharp breath as he scanned the contents. Grace tried to read over his shoulder, but he scrolled quickly and it was hard to follow. Near the bottom of the screen there was a picture of a woman with dyed magenta hair in a suit against a vanilla background. Grace gasped.
"That's her," she said. "That's the woman who took Serena."
"You know her?" Calem said, the edge in his tone not lost on the others.
"No, but I accessed the Lumiose Police Department's records to see if anything came up. And it looks like I got lucky."
Grace frowned. "You 'accessed' a proprietary database?"
"I know I may not look it, but I'm actually quite adept with computers," Sycamore said almost amiably. "It looks like Malva's in their database due to some kind of workplace harassment complaint..."
"...And?" Calem pressed.
"This is unexpected," Sycamore said as he scanned the report. "It looks like she's an employee of an organization known as Team Flare. And her boss..."
"Augustine, what?" Grace said, exasperated.
Sycamore leaned back in his chair and rubbed his mouth. "I've had several encounters with Team Flare in the past. Its president, Malva's boss, is a man named Lysandre. He's, well, let's just say we haven't seen eye to eye in the past."
"So that's our guy," Calem said. "He'll know where Malva is."
"No, I don't think it's that simple. Lysandre's methods are...objectionable, but he's not a criminal. I don't know if you're familiar with Team Flare, but they're a large and wealthy conglomerate that dabbles in everything from management consulting to Pokémon research. The thing is, I met Lysandre when he was in the midst of a research project involving Mega Evolution. My former assistant, Alain, was working closely with him."
Calem bared his teeth. "I knew it. Alain's in on this, too."
Sycamore put his hand up. "Now wait a minute, I never said that. And the last time I saw Alain, he was getting ready to leave his employment with Team Flare. That was almost a year ago, and I have no idea where he is or what he's been doing. And besides, that's not the point. What I'm trying to say is that Lysandre, if he's Malva's employer, might know where we can find her. This police report," he pointed to the screen, "was filed by Lysandre against Malva. It says he complained about her physically assaulting him and threatening further violence after he suspended her from active duty about five years ago. He ended up not pressing charges, but the police report was filed."
Grace rubbed her temples. "I don't care about any of this. Can we find Serena with this information or not?"
Sycamore stared at the screen. Malva's picture glared back at him. "I don't know. But this is a place to start. I'll head to Lysandre's office first thing in the morning."
"I'm coming with you," Calem said.
"So am I," Grace said.
"No, this is one trip I should make alone. Calem, you need to recover, and the last message I want to send is one of hostility. Frankly, you need to get yourself under control."
"Professor—"
"I said no, Calem. That's the last I'll hear about it."
"You can't order me to stay here," Grace said. "I'm coming with you."
Sycamore sighed. "Fine, but you have to stay silent. We can't let Lysandre or anyone else know why we're there or what's going on. He can't be trusted."
"Anyone associated with that woman can't be trusted, as far as I'm concerned."
"Then it's settled."
Calem looked like he wanted to protest, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. Klefki floated around his head like a concerned mother, but he ignored the little Pokémon, lost in thought.
"Tomorrow, then," Grace said.
Malva's grainy picture stared back at her, red eyes half-lidded and smoldering, as if to say, 'Catch me if you can.'
Despite her exhaustion, Grace tossed and turned in bed and hardly slept a wink in the four and a half hours she had before she was due to rendezvous with Sycamore in the morning. Nevertheless, she woke feeling alert and quickly showered, grabbed a banana to go, and waited in the lobby. Sycamore looked as haggard as she felt, but there was a glint of acuity in his dark eyes the betrayed his hyper vigilance given the circumstances. He wore street clothes, which made him look more his age than the starchy lab coat he usually sported, and a brown leather jacket hid the many beads and bracelets he wore on his arms. He'd tied his dreads back in a low ponytail, as tasteful as he was like to get.
"Let's go. I've already called us a cab," he said, not bothering to stop and chat as he blew past her and headed out the automatic glass doors.
The small electric car drove almost silently through the edges of the suburbs and into downtown Lumiose, and Sycamore remained silent the entire ride. In the distance, beyond the shops and office buildings and the murky sky, Grace could make out the tall Gym tower in the heart of the city. She thought of Dexio and what would happen to him after this, wondering how Clemont would deal with him. But before she had time to dwell on the macabre thought, the cab pulled up in front of a sleek, glass building and Sycamore passed a few bills to the driver. Grace got out and waited on the steps for Sycamore.
"Let me do all the talking," he said as they convened just outside what Grace presumed to be Team Flare's headquarters. "No matter what happens, even if nothing comes of this, it's important that we don't give Lysandre any reason to suspect our true motive."
"I just want to find Serena. I'll do whatever it takes."
Sycamore studied her. "I want to find her as much as you do, I hope you believe that."
Grace pressed her lips together, and then finally nodded. "I believe you."
"I suspect we won't get anything out of Lysandre. I know that's not what you want to hear." He put up a hand to preempt any protest. "But I'm hoping he'll give something away. Even if it means he's totally in the dark about Malva, that can tell us something. So please, follow my lead."
"I heard you the first time, Augustine. I'm not Calem."
He didn't look convinced, but he nodded regardless. "Good, all right. Let's get to it, then."
They headed inside, whereby Sycamore spoke with the receptionist in hushed tones. Grace glanced around the lobby with disinterest. There was nothing remarkable about it outside the fact that it was elegantly furnished and maintained. This Team Flare, whoever they were, wanted to make an impression. The question was what impression they were going for.
"He'll see us," Sycamore said after several minutes.
The receptionist buzzed them into the building, where a security officer was waiting to lead them to an elevator. Grace hardly noticed her surroundings, but it mattered little. Everything was steely blue and windowless, doors were closed and locked, and there were hardly any people about. Whatever Team Flare was up to was under lock and key.
The elevator took them up to the fifty-seventh floor, the topmost floor, and opened up into a spacious office that looked more like the living room of a lavish penthouse than any workplace. Like the lobby, this room was tastefully decorated with leather furniture, modernist paintings, and carefully neutral colors meant to put occupants at ease. Grace was anything but, but she held her tongue and followed Sycamore and the security officer into the office.
A man with fiery, orange hair in a custom-tailored, charcoal suit rose from his glass-topped desk and smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. His bright blue eyes remained detached but shifty, icy and observant as they quickly scanned Grace and Sycamore, searching for whatever treachery he was sure they brought with them. Grace instantly disliked this man. No, it was more than that. There was a stench about him, a gaseous aura that reeked of duplicity and cunning and charm, like a poison-soaked blade—just a friendly glance could end in fatality.
"Augustine," the man said courteously and with genuine-sounding mirth. He was good. "This is an unexpected but pleasant surprise."
"Lysandre," Sycamore returned, his voice confident with an edge of hardness Grace had never heard before. "It's been a long time."
"Come in, please. Have a seat." Lysandre nodded to his security officer, who disappeared into the elevator, and led Grace and Sycamore to the plush couches to the left of his desk.
Grace nearly gasped aloud when she caught sight of the creature snoozing on a throw rug near the window basking in the morning sunlight. It was an immense cat with a magnificent, fiery mane and saber tooth incisors poking out over its lower lip. It opened two sleepy, blue eyes as Lysandre approached, and he bent down and ran a hand over its sleek, golden fur. Rings adorned Lysandre's fingers, one with a fat sapphire on his ring finger and two simple silver bands on his thumb and forefinger.
"Pyroar usually takes his naps in here," Lysandre said without looking back at his guests. "All cats do is sleep, even the big ones."
He rose and cast Grace and Sycamore a glance that communicated everything he didn't say. Grace laid her hands on Fletchling's and Rhyhorn's Pokéballs tucked in her pocket, but their weight didn't comfort her as she looked at that snoozing lion curled up just feet away from where she and Sycamore took their seats. It was as large as Rhyhorn, maybe a bit larger, and one paw was as big around as her face. She'd never seen a cat so big before. The scheming Sylveon seemed like an adorable housecat by comparison.
"Augustine, are you going to introduce me to you acquaintance?" Lysandre said as he took a seat opposite his guests and crossed his legs.
"Of course," Sycamore said. "This is Grace Gabena, a former Rhyhorn racer. I've been close with her family for many years. We have a prior engagement to attend to just after this, so I decided to bring her along here out of convenience."
"I see." Lysandre turned his charming smile and those probing eyes on Grace. "Ms. Gabena, I've heard of you. You were quite the racer. I attended several of your races right here in Lumiose years ago. It's an honor."
Grace swallowed the sudden and violent urge to leap across the room and dig her fingers into his face until he bled. He seemed to interpret her mild surprise to her benefit. "The pleasure's all mine."
"So." Lysander spread his arms. "What can I do for you? It's not every day I'm paid a visit by the famous Augustine Sycamore."
"Actually, I was hoping you could help me track down one of your employees. An Ignifera by the name of Malva."
Sycamore paused and Grace watched Lysandre carefully, but he gave nothing away. Not even a flicker of recognition. The man was a rock.
"Malva? She's one of my field agents. She works out of the environmental division. How do you know her?"
He's not even denying he knows her! Grace fisted her hands in the sides of her pants and clenched her jaw, but she willed her face to remain impassive. This man knew the woman who'd taken Serena and nearly killed Calem.
"Actually, she came to me several months ago with questions about Mega Evolution," Sycamore said easily. "You know it's no secret that I'm studying the phenomenon. I was very surprised to meet someone with her unique capabilities, and when I found out she worked for you, I realized I shouldn't have been surprised at all."
Grace watched the two of them watching each other as the silence hung pregnant between them. There were secrets there, a past she was not privy to and one she would probably never know, but whatever Sycamore had signaled to Lysandre, it got his attention. Grace was not sure that was a good thing.
"Is that so?" Lysandre said lightly. "I'm a little surprised myself. To my knowledge, ever since her Houndoom was killed, Malva hasn't used Mega Evolution at all."
"She had a Mega Houndoom?" Sycamore said.
"That's right. Until a former employee of mine executed him right here in this building. I'm sure you remember him. It was your former assistant, Alain, who did the deed. He and his Mega Charizard."
Alain again, Grace thought, her mind racing. She didn't know much about Alain, only that Serena had adored him as a girl and that he used to work for Sycamore. Calem seemed to dislike him, perhaps even suspect him. He was a Titan, if Grace recalled, another one of those Tamers. Dexio was behind Serena's kidnapping, that much was obvious, but hearing Alain's name come up again and again made her wonder. Did he have some part in this? He knew Serena's secret, after all.
"That's interesting," Sycamore said, giving nothing away, but he shifted on the couch next to Grace and betrayed his anxiety. "I haven't been in touch with Alain for some time."
"It seems like you can't keep track of anyone these days, hm?" Lysandre said, chuckling.
His Pyroar got up and stretched, digging its sharp claws into the rug and yawning. Grace clenched her jaw as her eyes were inevitably drawn to Pyroar's elongated teeth. The lion padded lazily over to Lysandre and plopped down on the floor at his feet.
"You know, it's funny you should say that," Sycamore said, clasping his hands over his crossed knee and leaning forward. "As it so happens, I want to find Malva because she was involved in the kidnapping of someone close to me. A young woman named Serena."
Grace held her breath and watched Lysandre carefully for any sign of reaction, but he gave away nothing incriminating.
"Is that name supposed to mean something to me?" he said.
"I find it interesting that that's the first response you have when I've just told you one of your employees was involved in an illegal abduction," Sycamore challenged.
Lysandre chuckled. "Augustine, please, surely you know me better than that." He blinked, and the look in his eyes changed. "Malva's a monster. You of all people should know the reason to keep someone like her around. After all, you employed Alain for years before I ever met him. I can't be held accountable for Malva's actions."
"Alain never abducted an innocent girl," Sycamore said scathingly, unable to control his anger. He paused to collect himself. "So. You're telling me you have no idea what Malva's new interest is in Mega Evolution, and you know nothing about her recent illicit activities? Is this how you treat all your employees?"
A door to the far left opened all of a sudden, and a young girl entered the room. Her auburn hair was tied up in cute braided pigtails and she wore green overalls. She made a beeline for Lysandre, but stopped short and almost tripped over herself when she saw Grace and Sycamore on the couch opposite him.
"Oh, um, I'm sorry, I didn't know you had guests..."
Lysandre stood up, and Pyroar growled at being disturbed. "That's all right, Mairin. They were just leaving."
Sycamore stood up, and Grace followed his lead. Her eyes lingered on the young girl. She couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen. She was the last sight Grace expected to see with a man like Lysandre.
"Ah, Mairin, it's nice to see you again," Sycamore greeted.
Mairin glanced at Sycamore and smiled like it took every bit of energy she had in her small body. "Professor Sycamore, hello."
"How is Chespie doing?" Sycamore went on amiably. "Any change?"
"No," she said, barely a whisper. "Lysandre says it'll take more time. Oh." She turned back to Lysandre like she'd just remembered something. "Um, Xerosic asked me to come get you. He wanted to see you in the lab."
Lysandre smiled his fake smile for Mairin and laid a hand on her bony shoulder. "Thank you, Mairin, I appreciate you coming here to tell me that. I'll be right down. Why don't you run along?"
Mairin nodded after a moment's pause, and when she turned to leave Grace caught her eye. The girl was young, too young, but for what, Grace did not know. She was just too young. It felt like only yesterday Serena was that small. How things changed. Grace had the strangest urge to call out to Mairin, to say what she couldn't fathom, but the girl headed back through the door whence she came and closed it behind her. Pyroar padded after her and paced the sunbathed rug where it had previously been napping, testing it out again and debating on the best spot to settle down.
"I am truly sorry to hear about this business with Malva," Lysandre said, gesturing toward the elevator. "I don't know where she is or what she's been up to for the last several months, but I'll contact you the moment I hear anything, you have my word."
Sycamore didn't even bother feigning gratitude. "I don't know what you're up to, Lysandre, and frankly I don't want to know. But I will get to the bottom of this, mark my words. I hope for your sake this turns out to be an agent gone rogue. You know very well how Gym Leader Clemont feels about this sort of thing happening on his watch."
Lysandre chuckled and called the elevator. A security officer was waiting in the car when it arrived. "Now, Augustine, threats don't suit you, really. We're on the same side here. I'd like to know what my employee is up to behind my back as much as you. I'm just sorry you made the trip all the way here for nothing."
Grace followed Sycamore into the elevator and cast Lysandre one final, vacuous glance. He didn't even look at her.
"We'll see, won't we?" Sycamore said. "Good day."
The entire ride back to the lobby was passed in silence, and Grace knew better than to break it. The security officer showed them to the front door but didn't wish them well as they left. Sycamore shoved his hands in his pockets and began walking briskly down the sidewalk, leaving Grace to jog after him to catch up. He made it to the corner and crossed the street, and then turned down another block. The overcast sky roiled with the threat of rain, but none fell. Even so, the air was thick with humidity that curled the ends of Grace's short-cropped hair and hung dank with the smells of the city. People rushed past them on their way to work or meetings or running errands. Everyone in a hurry, no one paying attention. Grace drew up beside Sycamore as they waited for the crosswalk signal to change.
"Well?" she said. "He didn't know anything. That was a bust."
"On the contrary, I think we're one step closer to solving this conundrum," Sycamore said, briskly crossing the street once the signal changed and leaving Grace in the dust of his long, leggy strides.
She jogged to catch up again. "What does that mean?"
"You saw his surprise when I mentioned Malva, right? He has no idea what she's doing even though she's his employee."
"So what? He runs a huge company. He can't be expected to know what all his employees are up to."
Sycamore grinned. "Not an employee like Malva. She's an Ignifera, and a damn good one from the number she did on poor Calem. I know Lysandre. I know a skuff like him wants the same thing many skuffs want."
"He's a skuff?"
"That's right. And skuffs are all victims to the same tragedy society saddles them with. He wants power, to be acknowledged the way biology and genetics never acknowledged him. He thinks it was fate that dealt him the short end of the stick, so he'll subvert fate and make his own destiny no matter who he has to step on along the way. Trust me, Grace. I know him."
They'd traversed another two blocks when Sycamore ducked into a café that offered an almost direct view of the Gym in the distance. Prism Tower was steel and cable, built for function over aesthetic appeal. Sycamore grabbed a table near the window and ordered two coffees, and Grace did not protest. He had that look like he was thinking light years ahead and dimensions apart, and something told her not to interrupt him.
When the waitress brought their coffees and left to attend other tables, Sycamore leaned forward, shoulders hunched. "How much do you know about Mega Evolution?"
Grace sipped her coffee black and steaming, immune to the heat as her exhausted body screamed for the caffeine. "Just the term and what you breezed through last night."
He nodded, like he didn't really hear her. "Well, Lysandre's had a hard-on for it since before I met him. Excuse my language."
Grace stared at him deadpan, and he took that as his cue to continue.
"Did you notice how he let slip that Malva's been MIA for a few months?"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"It has everything to do with it. A skuff like Lysandre, who's got the money and power and influence to do just about whatever he wants, surrounds himself with strong Tamers to do his dirty work. That's why he was so interested in Alain, my former assistant. Alain was a Titan, a Dragon Tamer. You don't see many of them running around ready for hire. They keep to their own kind. Ironically, they're fiercely loyal to their clans until someone decides to leave, and then the deserter becomes a pariah."
Grace put down her cup. "You know, I've been hearing Alain's name pop up a lot lately, and I'm starting to wonder if he has anything to do with this."
"If you want my honest opinion? No. He left Lysandre's employ nearly a year ago, I suspect because he was precisely not the creature Lysandre wanted to think he was. Did you hear how he compared Alain to Malva? I've rarely heard Lysandre sound so petty. And besides, the timing is way off. I only brought up Alain to make my point. Malva's a powerful Ignifera. Lysandre, being who he is, would want to keep her close where he can control her. That police report I found? I bet you it was a lesson he wanted to teach her not to screw with him. He may not be a Tamer like her, but he's got a kind of power she'll never have."
Grace resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "So you're saying this is a popularity contest. Fascinating as this is, I still don't see how this will help me find my daughter."
Sycamore stirred his coffee absently. "Allow me to explain. What do we know? We know that Malva, an unaccounted for employee of Team Flare, has abducted Serena for reasons most likely having something to do with Mega Evolution. We also know that Lysandre, her boss and a controlling megalomaniac, has no idea about any of this. That tells us that this is a rogue job, meaning Malva is working alone or with a small group of associates under Lysandre's nose. I would even go so far as to assume she's using Team Flare resources to fund whatever she's up to; someone like her would have the access. So?"
"So? Augustine, just spit it out. I don't like these games."
He licked his lips, a little thrilled as his mind raced. "Malva's a glorified thug. That's the only reason Lysandre would have her working for him so closely. She's no scientist, she has no reason to study Mega Evolution, and her Mega Pokémon is dead. I makes no sense for her to be interested in Mega Evolution now. But I have a feeling she's working with someone who's very interested, someone who wants to study it, mostly likely someone who is or was associated with Team Flare, given their past fixation on Mega Evolution. Meaning—"
"Serena's alive," Grace said, understanding. "She's alive because whoever this scientist is will want to use her in his experiments."
Sycamore grinned. "Precisely. There is hope. And we won't have the full might of Team Flare to contend with to get Serena back. Just a small group of rogues with limited resources at the most. And even better, after we put Lysandre on alert about one of his best agents going rogue, I'm sure he'll be sending in the cavalry to hunt her down. We may not even have to take Malva out ourselves. In a way, our interests in finding and neutralizing Malva are perfectly aligned."
Grace nodded, a little hopeful for the first time since Serena was taken. "That still leaves the problem of how we find Malva and Serena at all. And even if Serena's alive, I don't know what that woman has planned for her. I don't like this, Augustine."
Sycamore raised his coffee mug. "Unfortunately, I haven't quite gotten that far. But I do have a first step that could get us there with a little luck. Malva, or whoever she's working with, is interested in Mega Evolution, yes? So we go to someone who knows more about Mega Evolution than even I do. He may be able to tell us something about how Serena fits into all this, and he has the connections and resources to mobilize a team to rescue her. I hate to say it, but you and I aren't exactly equipped to take on a Tamer like Malva and whoever she's working with."
"Who's this person who knows about Mega Evolution?" Grace said.
Sycamore sipped his coffee and winced at how hot it was. He set down the mug. "An old acquaintance of mine. I hope you don't mind flying. It's the fastest way to get to Shalour City from here, and time is of the essence."
Lysandre watched the elevator doors close on Sycamore and Grace and stood there, his gaze boring a hole into the metal doors.
"Sir? Shall I dispatch a unit to follow them?" a young security officer said, emerging from a hidden door in the vast office. He wore a saber at his belt, sheathed, and carried two Pokéballs.
Lysandre made his way back toward Pyroar, bypassing the officer. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked Lumiose City's center, and not far to the north loomed Prism Tower, an eyesore on the view but an imposing sight nonetheless.
"No. I want you to update me on Malva's status," Lysandre said.
"Sir, I'm afraid she missed her last monthly check-in. We have not heard from her. Her squadron lost contact with her several weeks ago."
Lysandre pressed his lips together. "And Laevus? Is he still on vacation?"
The security officer blinked rapidly. "I'm not sure, sir. He exhausted his three weeks some time ago and has not returned to the office."
Lysandre clenched his fists. "And you didn't think to tell me this?"
The security officer said nothing.
Lysandre advanced on him and grabbed him by the collar. "Why would you keep this from me?"
"I didn't think it was important, sir. Malva has been known to go off the grid for extended periods, and Laevus is just a scientist."
Lysandre was a tall man at six feet four inches, and with his wild, red hair and piercing blue eyes, he towered over the security officer like a vampire lord ready to suck the youth and vigor from his disappointing servant. He bared his teeth, and the officer grabbed his wrist with both hands, eyes wide with shock and fear.
"I don't pay you to think," Lysandre hissed.
He threw the officer bodily to the floor, where the man hit his head on the wall and crumpled to the floor in a daze. Pyroar bolted upright and growled. Its mane glowed as the fur vibrated and produced heat that began to rise off it in shimmering waves. The officer clutched the back of his head and scrambled toward the door Mairin had disappeared into earlier.
"Forgive me, sir," the officer pleaded. "I-I won't make another mistake, I swear."
"No, you certainly won't. Pyroar." He gestured toward the cowering officer.
Pyroar gnashed its teeth and pounced, shedding embers from its great mane that burned holes in the rug it had been lying on. With the efficiency of a born predator, the lion knocked the security officer on his back with its wide paws.
"No please!"
The officer's desperate entreaty devolved into a garbled gurgling as Pyroar sank its smoking teeth into his neck and bit down hard enough to crush the windpipe and grind the bones. The officer's legs jerked, and soon the stench of burning blood and cooked flesh permeated the room.
Lysandre frowned and covered his mouth and nose with a white handkerchief tucked into his breast pocket, then as an afterthought returned to his desk and picked up the phone.
"Patch me through to Level Four," he said, lowering the handkerchief.
In the corner of the room, Pyroar was busy sniffing its kill and deciding whether or not indulge in a meal as it paced up and down the length of the dead officer's body.
"Cora, it's me. You've just been promoted," Lysandre said into the earpiece once the line connected to the building security office. "That's right, Emile is no longer with us." There was a pause as he listened to Cora on the other end. "Drop whatever you're doing. I want you to mobilize a task force to do one thing, and one thing only. Find Malva. She may be with Laevus, but I can't confirm that. And Cora, tell no one. If I have a leak, I want it plugged. As soon as you locate either of them, send a retrieval squad." Another pause. "No, I don't care who she's with or what she's doing. If you encounter any resistance, eliminate it. That includes Malva herself."
He hung up the phone and found Pyroar sitting on its haunches on the other side of his desk licking its bloody paw clean. Lysandre studied the lion Pokémon that had been his companion since he was a boy, pensive.
"You're too picky," he said.
Pyroar paused and looked up at him with sleepy, unblinking eyes, as if to say, 'You're one to talk.' Lysandre reached for the phone again and dialed his personal assistant. "Louis, send a clean up crew to my office. Emile had an accident."
He hung up the phone, knowing Louis, his middle-aged assistant of nearly ten years, would know how to proceed discreetly and quickly. Business finished, Lysandre held the handkerchief over his mouth and nose once more and gestured to Pyroar to follow. He sidestepped Emile's corpse to get to the door, hardly glancing at the nearly severed head drowning in a pool of dark blood and staining the charred carpet.
Alain lay in bed that night like he did every night, waiting for sleep. He knew he slept because every morning that damned alarm woke him at dawn for another backbreaking day of training. It had been a nice evening with just Korrina. They'd made a simple dinner and opened up a bottle of wine, and spent the evening talking about their bucket lists. Korrina had gushed that she wanted to go skydiving over the Twist Mountains in Unova.
"Skydiving? Seriously?" he said.
"Of course I'm serious! I heard Gym Leader Skyla of Mistralton invented a flying suit that lets people glide on the winds. You don't even have to be a Caelifer for it to work."
Alain chuckled. "Why Korrina, I never took you for the type to get chummy with a Caelifera."
Korrina rolled her eyes. "Listen, Titan. For a chance to fly? I'd muck her fucking bird coop if she asked. Don't tell me you've never dreamed of flying."
He shrugged. "Well, sure. I've never met a Caelifer, but even a lowly Titan like me's always wondered what it's like to be one. Charizard's a great substitute, but I guess it's not the same."
"Exactly!"
"Well, how about this, then. When you decide to go, I'll go with you and I'll even hold your hair when you throw up after."
She flipped him off, but her heart wasn't in it as she bit back a smile. "Sure, it's a date."
Alain smiled a little at the memory and draped his arm over his eyes, listening to the sounds of the crashing waves through his open window and wondering what it would be like to fly, to fall, with Korrina. The wind in their ears rushing like the waves outside. The earth at their feet. A lovely fantasy for a dreamer who couldn't even tempt sleep on this dark night.
Alain dozed, the sheets thin over his body, and he almost didn't hear the door click. Stirring, he let his arm fall and blinked through the inky blackness. Starlight filtered through the open window and diffused among the sheer curtains that fluttered gently in the wind. It illuminated a small silhouette near the door, and he pushed up on one elbow.
"...Korrina?" he said, his voice a little raspy from drowsiness.
The silhouette froze, and Korrina brushed her long hair out of her face and looked at him over her shoulder. She was in her pajamas, an oversized T-shirt and shorts and barefoot.
"...Hi," she said.
Rubbing his eyes, Alain blinked the tendrils of sleep away and sat up fully in bed. "Hi? What're you doing?"
She crossed her arms. "I just... I'm sorry, this was a mistake. I didn't mean to wake you up."
She turned back to the door and made to open it, but before he could process a coherent thought, Alain was already on his feet and pushing the door closed over her shoulder before she could slip through. He locked eyes with Korrina. This close he could smell the salt and the sunshine in her hair.
"Korrina," he said, hardly recognizing his own voice.
She searched his face, and that look paralyzed him to the spot. The waves ceased their crashing, the stars hid their fires, and the floor threatened to give out beneath him. What would it be like to fly?
"I feel like I've been sleepwalking my whole life," she said, her voice far away as though from another time, another place. "Until I met you."
Alain's hand fell, fell on her, and he pulled her to him without a word. They met the wall as if in a vacuum devoid of the sounds and scents and darkness of the world in that small room, hands in hair and lips on flesh and clothing little more than an inconvenience. There was a violence to their movements, the way she raked her nails over his shoulder blades and her teeth found his bottom lip and he picked her up by the thighs, clothes stripped away, fingers in flesh, and pressed her harder against the wall.
Awake, alive, all those sleepless nights a mirage of the mind when every day had been the passage of light to dark with nothing in between and he'd never even noticed. The dead don't know they're dead until someone resurrects them.
She whispered in his ear, unintelligible and cryptic like some arcane language lost to time and the rhythm between them, more a feeling than a sound and instantly understood: more. Her long hair draped over his shoulder and fluttered with each push, a whisper all its own, and she was looking at him, right at him, and smiling into a drowning kiss that was almost the end of him.
"Alain," she breathed against him.
He squeezed his eyes shut and saw white, but the self-important asshole in him was not about to let him take the easy way out, and soon his legs were carrying them the three or four steps to the bed before the rest of him could catch up.
The sheets and pillows gave under them as they fell, but Korrina didn't loosen her grip on him and drew him in again with her thighs. His fingers fisted the sheets and her hair like some fantasy he'd entertained in nights past, except now he felt it, now his eyes were open, now he knew and she knew and fuck, why did she have to say his name like that again?
No, say it again. Say it again.
She pulled him down for another bruising kiss, his hand on her hip, her thigh, skin on skin on sheets, and the salt in the air and on her neck, and her necromancer voice in his ear pulling him out of the ashes and melting the shackles that tethered him, both of them, to something from which they were no longer running now that they'd found a piece of something they didn't know they were searching for, gasping and reaching, little by little.
The waves returned and gently lulled Alain out of the haze as he breathed on his side on the bed, limbs tangled among Korrina's and the twisted sheets. For a few moments, they breathed together as they floated, riding the winds and dreaming of flying. She watched him through half-lidded eyes, languorous and heady with their lingering intoxication.
Alain trailed a hand up her side, traced the curve of her waist, the slope of her shoulder, and down her collarbone. "I know what you mean," he said, thinking of her last words to him.
She smiled, shyly at first, then wider, until a soft laugh escaped her. It was contagious, and Alain found himself laughing with her just for the simple joy of hearing the sound of it. They rolled together among the sheets and over the pillows, laughing and touching and not sleeping a wink, the world outside this room forgotten.
When Serena regained consciousness, her body ached as though it had taken a spin in a blender but come out in one piece. Her hands and feet were chained to a wall with only five feet of rein. The chains were heavy and her shoulders ached from holding them up. The chill was palpable even in her grubby outdoor clothes. She'd planned on absconding to the forest east of Vaniville Town in the middle of the night the last she remembered, and had dressed sensibly in jeans, a hoodie, and hiking boots, but even they didn't keep out the biting cold despite the blazing heaters running at maximum power in the lab.
The lab. She was in a lab of some sort, that much was clear. It had the same examination tables, many of the same tools and machines, and even a similar layout as Sycamore's lab back in Lumiose. But this lab appeared to be in a basement, possibly even underground given the lack of windows and rock walls. The lights were drilled into the rock ceiling and glowed a dull yellowish-orange and buzzed softly. Somewhere deeper in the lab, a generator hummed in a droning monotone. Serena was sitting on the bare rock floor with nothing to insulate her from the cold, and she shivered as she huddled as close to the nearest heating vent as possible, which was a dismal four feet away out of her direct line of contact.
She'd woken up groggy and already shackled with no recollection of how she'd gotten here, wherever this was, but she was already trying to piece together what had happened and why. There was a person here, an overweight man in a woolen parka and earmuffs waddling about the lab every once in a while. He hadn't noticed she was awake yet, and Serena intended to keep it that way until she could get ahold of herself. He was clearly some kind of lab worker or scientist from the looks of him and his apparent familiarity with his surroundings.
More intriguing, however, was the small Darumaka that followed him around. It had stopped its roll to stare at Serena when it noticed her waking up and crawled toward her. She'd never seen a Darumaka before, only in pictures, and this one appeared curious and relatively harmless.
"Hello," she'd whispered to it, her eyes following its nest of orange heartstrings clustered around its oblong body.
The Darumaka hesitated when she spoke to it, its heartstrings pulsing with uncertainty.
"He's your trainer, right?" Serena pressed. "But he's doing a bad thing chaining me up here. See?" She showed Darumaka her chains.
The little Pokémon rolled on its rump and grabbed its feet in its hands, grunting a little. Its heartstrings pulsed faster.
Serena tried to focus on breathing and tamped down the urge to start sobbing in fear. "It's okay, I know it's confusing. You want to help him, but you want to help me, too."
Darumaka blinked at her, and she was suddenly reminded of Calem and that look he got when she zeroed in on what he was thinking almost to the T. Serena had always had a knack for reading emotions ever since her encounter with the weird tree, especially Pokémon's. It had started with the first Pokémon she'd ever befriended—Swablu. She'd never questioned it, but she hoped it would help her now.
Serena looked around and saw that on a nearby table, her three Pokéballs lay in a dish, along with her other personal effects—a wallet with a few bills in the fold, house keys, a couple hair ties. She licked her lips and tried to calm her nerves.
"Darumaka," she whispered. "How about this. Will you bring me one of those Pokéballs over there? Any one will do."
Darumaka grunted again and wriggled its feet still in its hands, its uncertainty palpable. Serena read its heartstrings and blinked in surprised.
"No, of course I won't attack your trainer. I just want to leave this place," she reassured Darumaka. "Please."
Darumaka's beady eyes shifted between Serena and the Pokéballs on the table a few feet away, but it finally relented and rolled toward the table. It took a moment to roll around the table, trying to find a way up, but soon gave up and rolled right into one of the metal legs with Rollout. The table shook a little, but nothing came of it. Darumaka, undeterred, pulled back and repeated the process again, and again, and again, until soon Serena's keys clattered to the stone floor and she winced. The Pokéballs remained in their dish, but the dish itself had moved to the edge of the table. Just a little more!
Low growling startled Serena, and Darumaka squealed in fear and rolled away between the tables. Serena almost cried out to it, but a sleek Pyroar crept around the long table to her left, saber teeth bared and long, fiery crest draped over her back like a cape. Serena froze in her spot, her bare hands flat against the rocky floor and quaking as it siphoned the heat from her freezing fingers. The lioness drooled boiling saliva from her jaws as she loomed over Serena.
Serena watched the lioness's orange heartstrings spark around her, concentrated chaos and focused violence, as those blue eyes bored into Serena.
"Pyroar, to me," a woman's voice called.
Serena blinked as the Pyroar turned tail and padded back the way it had come. A woman with bright, magenta hair in a white parka and winter boots petted its shimmering crest with an air of tenderness, subtle but not lost on Serena who could read her heartstrings, as fiery orange as Pyroar's.
"Malva, what the hell is this?" the fat man Serena had seen before said. "There are Flare Agents at the door!"
"Yes, I brought them, obviously," the woman called Malva said casually, more focused on making Pyroar purr.
"And I repeat, what the hell? This is exactly what I wanted to avoid! Are you so incompetent that you didn't get that part of the deal?"
Malva narrowed her lurid eyes and cast a glance askance at the heavyset scientist. His double chin quivered and spit glistened on his lower lip as his similarly red eyes searched her for answers. His faint, white heartstrings pulsed with the barest tendrils of orange, betraying his distress. Serena stayed silent, but her mind raced.
An Ignifera... But he's not a regular pleb. What is he?
"What was that, Laevus?" Malva said with an air of casual indifference that nonetheless scared Laevus enough to tense. His heartstrings pulsed erratically. "It sounded like you were calling me stupid for bringing you some extra security. I vetted them personally. Or am I now stupid and untrustworthy?"
Laevus wrung his hands. "I didn't mean it like that." Remembering his confidence, he added, "But you should have told me! I don't like surprises."
Malva gave Pyroar a good scratch behind the ear, earning herself a loving head rub against her side and a loud purr. "Oh believe me. No one would ever think you spontaneous enough to enjoy a good surprise."
Malva's eyes suddenly swept over Serena, and they locked gazes.
"By the way, I'll be keeping Maru with me. I don't want him anywhere near the Magus."
Serena paled and her throat went dry. How did she know? Was that was this was about?
Laevus scowled. "Maru isn't the problem."
"He is when you have a Magus on your hands," Malva said.
"What does that have to do with anything?"
Malva sashayed toward Serena, taking her time and dragging her red-painted nails on the stainless steel table to her left. Pyroar didn't follow, instead stretching out and yawning. Serena remained seated and straightened her back, refusing to be intimidated by this woman. Malva squatted down a few feet from her and removed her rose-tinted sunglasses, revealing the full power of her blood-red eyes, eyes that burned just to look upon. Serena did not waver.
"Call it a hunch," Malva said.
There was nothing there, no anger or contempt or anything Serena may have expected to see in a villain. Because the people who'd abducted her from her home and brought her to wherever this was were undoubtedly villains in her mind, as vile as they came. They had to be. Why else would they have chained her up here?
"Whatever. Those agents are your responsibility if you're staying. I don't want them interfering with my work." Laevus disappeared into another room.
Malva continued to peer at Serena.
"What is this?" Serena broke the silence. "Why am I here? How do you know about me?"
Malva watched her like she was memorizing her face. "It's nothing personal, kid," she said. Curious, like she wondered about that herself.
Serena blinked, hating the heat behind her eyes. "If it's not personal, then let me go!" she hissed.
"Do you love your family?"
Serena was taken aback by the abrupt change in subject. "What?"
"Would you help them if they asked you to?"
Serena held her hands together and laced her fingers for warmth, but it did little to help. She thought of Grace, her mother. What was she doing now? Was she looking for her? Was Calem? Did her father even know? Did anyone even know where she was?
"It's selfish, the love we have for family. It doesn't care about the truth. Only the blood. There's no bond thicker than blood. So no, I can't let you go." Malva retrieved Serena's house keys and set them back on the table. She pushed the dish with Serena's three Pokéballs back to the center of the table. "For what it's worth, if it wasn't you, it would be some other girl."
The tears flooded Serena's eyes as Malva walked away, and her hands shook. Serena had never been afraid to be alone, knowing she would be alone for the rest of this life that wasn't hers. But watching Malva walk away, she found that she had no words, no breath, nothing at all to stop this awful energy Malva left behind for her to wallow in. And for the first time, the only time since she woke from a dream of death's gnashing jaws under a canopy of butterflies in a place that had never existed, the fear found her again.
The iron around her ankles and wrists burned with cold, bruising her skin down to her bones and sapping her strength with each passing hour. Serena tugged on her chains, but they did not give. No one came when she called, and she didn't call besides—no one would hear her. Even the heartstrings did not reach her here, this place devoid of heat and light and even darkness. There was only the stale, lewd light crackling in the artificial lamps in the ceiling, the dead steel tables, the frozen cave, and the earth packed tight above. All those years suffering Grace's sad looks, that morose secrecy that silently wished none of this was real, that Serena was still Serena, still the baby girl she'd raised, and Serena finally understood. If she'd just stayed home, if she'd just done as Grace had asked, then it would be some other girl here instead of her.
Shuffling stirred her sleep—yes, she'd dozed off at some point—and Serena scrambled into a sitting position. Someone had thrown a woolen blanket over her for warmth, and it helped. She clutched it closer as the shuffling drew nearer.
Laevus appeared, and two men dragged a young boy between them just in front of him. They tossed the boy to the ground a few feet from Serena and shackled him in chains extending from the wall. Laevus barked orders at the two grunts assisting him, and they disappeared back the way they came. Laevus cast a lingering glance at Serena, but she was focused on the boy that had suddenly joined her jail, and he left.
The boy was sprawled on the floor in jeans and an old, ratty sweatshirt. His auburn hair was thick but mussed and greasy from lack of washing. He coughed weakly and his arms shook when he tried to sit up and failed. Serena crawled toward him and gave him an arm for support.
"Hey, are you okay?" she said.
He coughed again and squeezed her arm with a hand. His fingers shook, spindly like an old woman's, but his face was young. Haggard and sallow, but young. Bloodshot, grey eyes swiveled in their sockets and found her but had trouble focusing.
"Wh-Who're you?" he rasped.
"I'm Serena." Serena tried to keep her breathing calm as she took in his etiolated pallor and emaciated frame. What did they do to you? "It's okay, you're not alone."
I'm not alone.
The boy shivered violently and clutched her closer. Their shackles clinked together, loud in this hollow space. He smelled of body odor and sweat. How long had he been down here? But Serena ignored it, thankful for some company.
"Why is this happening to me?" he whispered, almost a sob but without the tears. He was so thin and frail that she doubted he could cry if he wanted to.
"I don't know. But can you tell me your name?"
He searched her eyes, not really seeing her as his mind lingered in the dark place the people here had put him in. "It's Trevor," he said finally. "Do you... Do you know where my parents are?"
His heartstrings were faint and pale—a pleb, just like her mother. But his were weak and pulsing erratically.
"I don't know," Serena admitted. "What did they do to you? What do they want?"
He sniffled and huddled in on himself. "I don't know. They just... He said he wanted to see what would happen. It's hurts."
A dry sob racked his body, and Serena looped her arms around his shoulders to hold him close. "Shh, it's okay, I'm here." She pulled him toward her to offer him some of her warmth, paltry as it was. Something sharp bumped her chest and she pulled back a bit.
"What's that?" she asked, running her hand over his back.
The back of his hoodie protruded just slightly, and when she touched her fingers to the spot, they came away damp with blood.
"Ow," Trevor whimpered.
Serena scooted back and tried to look at his back properly. The light here was dim, and all she could make out was a dark patch between his shoulder blades.
"Trevor," she said evenly. "I need to check something. I think you're hurt. Can you take off your sweatshirt?"
"Hurt?" His voice wavered.
"It's okay!" Serena said quickly. "I just want to check. It doesn't look bad."
"O-Okay."
He let her peel back his sweatshirt over his shoulders, which she did slowly and carefully. A wet sound squelched as she pulled the garment down his back to his elbows. He wore a dark, long-sleeved shirt under his sweatshirt. The bloodstain was larger on the shirt, but she still could not see what was causing it.
"I'm just gonna lift up your shirt, okay?"
Trevor nodded and let her inch his shirt up over his back. He shivered at the cold and her touch, and Serena slowly shimmied the shirt higher. The veins under the skin of his lower back were engorged and purple, and they became more pronounced the closer she got to the point between his shoulder blades. Her hands shook as she hiked his shirt higher, inch by inch, and followed the fat, violet protrusions with her eyes.
"Oh my god," she gasped, tearing up.
"What's wrong?" Trevor asked, his voice laced with fear and trepidation.
Serena swallowed as she stared at the spot between Trevor's shoulder blades. Embedded in the skin was the sharp edge of a crystal that glowed with its very own heartstrings—red and blue and green and purple and every other color imaginable in a sun-cut prism of light. It sank into his body, where the skin seemed to swallow it whole. Veins fattened with blood converged on it, pulsing faintly in time with Trevor's heartbeat. Serena touched the crystal lightly with a finger, and it glowed a faint pink in response.
"Ah," Trevor gasped. "What'd you do?"
Serena bit her tongue so hard it bled. She hastily yanked Trevor's shirt back down and pulled his sweatshirt back up. He turned to look at her with those young, smoky eyes, lost and afraid and glassy with pain and exhaustion. She forced the tears back.
"Nothing," she lied. "You're gonna be okay. I promise, I'll get you out of here."
"Y-You will? How?"
"If it wasn't you, it would be some other girl."
Well, Serena was the one here, and she could damn well do more than the average girl. "Yeah, I will. I'm a Tamer, and I've got Pokémon. I'll figure something out. I promise I'll get you out of here, okay?"
Trevor stared at her.
"Okay?" She shook his shoulder.
He nodded numbly. "Okay."
"Okay," Serena repeated.
What now?
What would Calem do? He would be brave, that's what. And he'd be smart. Well, Serena wasn't stupid.
"Trevor, listen to me." She cupped his face with her hands, and the chains shackling her clinked heavily. "Do you know anything about these people? What they want? Anything at all could help. If I know what they're after, maybe I can make a deal with them, I don't know."
Trevor's eyes unfocused. "I don't..."
Serena blinked fresh tears away. "Come on, Trevor, I know it's hard, but try to think. Try to remember. Did they say anything? What about that guy, Laevus? He's the scientist, right?"
Trevor blinked, and when he looked at her again it was as though he'd woken from a trance, totally sobered. "Laevus," he whispered. "He's looking for something."
Serena nodded. "Good, that's good. What's he looking for?"
"The answer. He said he was looking for the answer."
"The answer to what?"
Trevor sucked in a rattling breath. He was shivering like mad, so Serena wrapped her blanket around him, careful to avoid his shoulders and not disturb the implant there.
"The answer," Trevor whispered, "to Mega Evolution."
Serena stared openly at Trevor. "Mega Evolution?"
What does that have to do with anything?
Shuffling drew her attention. Laevus and his two lackeys approached, and Serena hugged Trevor close on instinct.
"You two, if you're going to be here then make yourselves useful. I want her on my table, docile. Think you can manage that?" Laevus said.
The two grunts, each clad in identical black ski jackets and thermal pants, advanced on Serena. They reached for her, but she struggled to resist, shielding Trevor with her body. Trevor cried out.
"Leave her alone!"
His pathetic wails fell on deaf ears, and Serena's chains prevented her from offering much resistance. One of the grunts unlocked her shackles and looped his arms around hers, locking her to him in a hold from which she was helpless to escape in her weakened state and against his obvious training. He handed the key back to Laevus, who returned it to the chain on his belt with a number of other keys. His lurid eyes lingered on Serena, the eyes of a man starved and drooling over a choice morsel.
"Magus," he said. "You're exactly what I need."
"Let me go!" Serena cried out. "You kidnapped me! That's against the law!"
"The only law here is the one I make, girl. Hold your tongue."
Serena struggled against her captors, who dragged her along behind Laevus as he led them to an operating table in the far end of the lab. Various medical equipment littered the work stands around it, all cleaned and gleaming silver like some pirate's boon. The sharp edges reflected in Serena's wide, blue eyes.
"What do you want?" she demanded.
"Shut up," one of the grunts said.
He smashed her head against the stainless steel table unexpectedly. The pain bloomed in Serena's forehead and made her see stars for a few seconds. Her knees wobbled and went limp as her brain forgot how to function through the pain, and the two grunts lifted her bodily onto the table. Blood trickled down her forehead from a deep gash in her head and leaked into her eyes and mouth.
"I want what you have," Laevus said, oblivious to her suffering. "I want the secret denied me at birth."
Serena coughed, the blood coppery and bitter on her tongue as she lay on the table and the grunts secured her with leather straps. One of them ripped the left sleeve of her sweatshirt off at the shoulder to expose her arm.
"Mega Evolution," Serena rasped, half delirious as Laevus hovered over her with a thick needle and swabbed her exposed arm over a vein.
"That's right. You would know, being what you are. Well, it won't matter soon. I'll have the secret, and then your kind will be obsolete. But first, some tests."
"I don't..." Serena lost her voice and felt a prick in her arm where he nicked her with the needle. She watched as her blood flowed through a clear tube into a vial at the end. Her enchanted eyes followed the flow of her own heartstrings bottled up in that vial. "I don't know Mega Evolution," she managed.
"That's not a problem," Laevus said casually. His double chin wiggled as he spoke, glossy with sebum and sweat. "You'll learn soon enough."
Serena's head swam, and she wondered if that blow would have permanent repercussions. She was no doctor, but pain of this magnitude was all the more worrying to a civilian. She thought of her mother then, not for any particular reason, but just because. She must be so scared, Serena thought. Scared and unable to do anything.
Darumaka rolled around on the floor at Laevus's feet as he drained Serena of her blood and looked up at her with its beady eyes. Serena barely saw it through her unshed tears, but she saw the vibrancy of its orange heartstrings, pulsing with nerves and fear. And she remembered her promise.
The blood left her body, and consciousness left her with it. The pain in her head dulled to a low ache as the darkness set in, and all she could think of was that little girl who'd run away because she thought she was stronger than this. Until death found her, as it finds us all.