Chapter 10
Mooskeg / Ronin / Forest Fire
—June 13th-20th 128 CR
Matt waited for Belladonna in the garden, the breeze bringing him breaths of faintly chemical fragrances. He had the persistent feeling that the plants were watching, hanging bells and stars and trumpet-shaped blooms all turning toward him. He wasn't sure if they were supplicants or hunters.
When Belladonna appeared, he swore they looked for her, too. Not his supplicants, then.
The gym leader was striding to her next appointment, sandaled feet quick on the stone path. Her resting face was unremarkable, and then she saw him: she grinned, metamorphosing, the sudden animation of her face striking, arresting, drawing the eye. He thought he saw fangs, like an asura's.
She kept walking. He followed her. She set a fast pace, the tall hedges whisking by like a tunnel, down into faerieland.
"Why do you do this?" he asked, as they approached the arena. "You're just like they say."
"Fuck 'em," Belladonna said. "What do I care what a bunch of zhoresu think?"
Zhoresu: the thin people. The faded people. Third crossing. It felt like a little desperate coming from someone who was half.
"It's a performance, cousin," Belladonna said, with the air of explaining something basic to a small child. "It keeps the seats full and the kids pleasantly frightened, and no one gets hurt. Permanently," she amended, flipping a hand. "I'm providing a service, alright? And when I get tired of it I'll do something else. Everyone changes up the act once in a while."
Matt's lip curled. "You think you're royalty? You're a sad excuse for an entertainer. Don't you care what it makes them think? About us?"
Belladonna snorted. "They see us being good and normal every single damn day, and then they see me for ninety minutes and that convinces them of what they always knew."
Matt heard the bitterness, and he felt it in his bones.
"I could go out there in a suit and glasses and teach calculus, and they'd see some other kid get in a fight or swagger with a gang, and they'd decide then instead. At least this way I make a buck."
He didn't have anything to say to that. Belladonna kept going; she had an appointment.
"They already decided about you and Moriko, Matt," she said over her shoulder. "And about me, too. So fuck 'em. Do what you want!"
x.x.x.x.x
In the morning, Tarahn was fine, the damage to his energy skeleton fully repaired. The fear was gone.
That left the shame.
Moriko remembered everything. The looks on people's faces; Belladonna's laughter; her sick panic at seeing Tarahn devoured by the tentacruel. It felt like a blow, like knives, like ice and fire. She put her hands on her face, tears squeezing out from between her closed eyelids.
Moriko lay miserably in her cot until it was too warm and muggy in the dorm, and then she found a tree to sit under in a public park. Tarahn nudged her periodically, but she was sullen, paging through her pokédex to waste time. Rufus was happy to nap in the sea breeze, a faint haze of heat riding from his body; eventually Tarahn gave up and crawled into the oxhaust's lap to doze.
Russ and Matt joined her, and she ignored them, too. Russ threw a ball for Sylvia, flinging it high into the air or over rooftops, but the borfang only needed a few wingflaps to intercept and catch it in mid-air. Matt sat quietly under the tree, leaning against Maia.
They watched Russ play-wrestle with Sylvia; Conall the dirfox watched, and then eagerly joined in. Shaky, still, after his experience in the ring, but getting better.
"So, what's your plan, Moriko?" Matt murmured.
"Hmm?"
"What are you going to do next?"
She sighed. "Go sign up again, I guess. Train while I'm waiting."
"Want to use Maia? Speed things up?"
Moriko instantly felt sick. The tibyss was magnificent, but… She remembered the looks on Rufus and Tarahn's faces, back in Umber. She could taste their disappointment, pale and nauseous, at the back of her throat.
"No," she said. "No, I can't."
"Can't you? Come on, it's not bad—"
"I won't, Matt." Her mouth twisted up with disgust. "I won't. It has to be me and my team."
"Well, if you don't want to play it smart…"
Moriko set her jaw.
"It's just a suggestion, so don't get mad—"
Moriko sat up so she could leave. "Funny how telling people not to get mad pisses them off. Boosting hurt Rufus and Tarahn, Matt, and it made me feel weird. I'll do it on my own."
"Noted. New suggestion: let's keep going to Russet Town. We have to come back to Porphyry to take the train to Sunset Mountain. You could fight her again at tier seven instead."
She narrowed her eyes, watching him. "What good will that do?"
"Kicks the can down the road. Makes it a problem for future you." He laughed. Maia gave a stern murr. "You… might be in a better state of mind then, more wins, more confident. And she'll have different pokémon for that level bracket. You won't see that tentacruel again."
Her gut twisted. "Its sibling then, worse-behaved."
Matt shrugged. "Think about it."
Moriko walked off; Rufus and Tarahn stirred and followed her. They didn't say anything, but she didn't feel any unhappiness or resentment from them, either.
Coming around the corner, she saw the amphitheater of the gym rising above the surrounding buildings and stared at it. She'd sign up again and train more, get an edge with power.
But. Belladonna would know she was coming. She'd know her pokémon; she'd know that her varanitor had almost beaten Rufus and that her tentacruel had definitely beaten Tarahn, despite the type matchup. Round two, fight.
Better to get it done with? Probably, but what if she couldn't win? Another week, another wait, the guys getting more and more impatient, pushing her to boost with their pokémon… Anxiety twisted in her chest.
Matt's idea had an incredible appeal. She could come back in sleepier, hotter August with a smaller crowd, a different audience as people left to watch the tournament at Thalassa Heights.
And if she was an animal, better to be out in the woods with the other animals. Better to be alone or nearly and away from the scrutiny of the crowd and their judgment.
"Yeah," she said. She blew out her breath, her overlong bangs stirring. "Yeah, let's get out of here."
x.x.x.x.x
They took the train out of Porphyry to the salt marshes to the west, sunnier and more open than those in the east. They hired a guide to take them through the crisscrossing channels, the water green and gray underneath overhanging banks and sunken trees, the paths hung with vines and moss. This was good country for canoeing; they had to portage a few times but not excessively. Russ and Moriko raced Matt and the guide, arms pumping, but the guide could have beaten them on her own.
The three of them reached the river delta at La Balise, a beautiful location with zero tourists and long stretches of shaded beaches. It was a rich area, dense with animals and pokémon: they'd seen goredile and the papiliris line in the swamp, and on the beach there were sclallap and hermean in the shallows, and vitreel and its evolutions along the reef.
Wingull and pelipper were everywhere, flying and diving, and they even saw a gigantic albacant from far away. Moriko and Russ caught a poliwhirl and a corphish that declined to stay with them but were happy to receive treats before they left.
Moriko was interested in goredile, but the crocodile pokémon had a distressing tendency to give their canoes warning slaps if they lingered too long. The air was thick with mosquitoes as well, and they could only carry so much repellent. A few mutant skeeters didn't care about that either, so it was a relief to get into the dryer forest.
Moriko started to feel better, away from the city and the crush of people. She slept through the night, and if she was awoken by rain or insects buzzing she could fall asleep again instead of stewing and wishing for trainers chatting in the dorms to leave. Some people liked that environment, liked the activity and the opportunity, but gods, she'd found it stifling.
Even her overreaction at the gym had started to lose some of its clarity. Some other trainer would lose or win amusingly, and she'd be forgotten about. And even Matt had been strangely forgiving, not bringing it up constantly to shame her.
She really needed to slow down and enjoy herself. It felt like every day since Tsugaru had been a life-or-death struggle with the weight of terrible expectations on her. She could always try again or skip gyms; hell, she could leave and go to another region. Angela and them had treated it all as a big vacation, and they'd caught more pokémon to boot.
Moriko wondered if Angela had gone back to Port Littoral like they'd talked about. She snorted. Angela wanted to quit when her group hadn't even run into any trouble, just heard about it. Likely Moriko's group was the magnet for trouble, and the others would have an eventless summer.
x.x.x.x.x
Angela gave the pot of instant noodles a final stir before moving it off the embers of the fire, the soup packet blooming as the dehydrated vegetables and soup stock hit the water. Not at all bad for camping food.
"Soup's ready, guys!" she called.
They were making good time to Russet Town. There had been a lot of warnings on the ranger boards for Verdure and its surrounding areas, but they'd decided to give the route west from Porphyry a chance. It had been great despite the marsh and the bugs: beautiful weather and tons of pokémon, and there were wayhouses and guides along the way to provide shelter and direction on the well-maintained trails.
She divided the noodles and broth into four bowls, lining them up near to the fire so they wouldn't get cold, and Kai and Vic turned up with their pokémon.
"Garon, give that here!" Vic said as her wintris stole a packet of jerky.
Angela looked around. "Where's Dave?"
"Training with Ophelia," Vic replied, slurping her noodles. "Send him a message."
The four of them all had their badges from the towns they'd visited so far. Dave had come the closest to losing in Verdure and Porphyry—that Porphyry gym leader had been weird, and the fights difficult and bloody—and had devoted the most time to training since then.
Despite how their journey had started out mostly unplanned, they were all overachievers, and none of them liked passing by narrow margins. If they were going to do this, they were going to do it right.
She'd been glad when they'd gotten out of the swamp. The borfang were strong, but they were young and could only fly two people a short distance at a time. There wasn't much choice for landing sites, either. They'd ended up renting two boats, but it was just as well—they caught a couple pokémon, and the scenery was just spectacular.
The marshlands had slowly turned into seawoods, still lush but not nearly as damp underfoot, and they were making great time again, interspersing rapid flights aboard Ophelia and Cavall with leisurely walks and attempts to track wild pokémon.
It was really a boon to have the storage devices. Angela felt bad, abandoning Russ to the mercies of her cousin and a stranger, but it was his decision. She wasn't really sure what was motivating that, against all better judgement, but she'd given up trying to speculate what flavor of bizarre affection Russell had for Moriko.
Her parents still refused to see sense, that Moriko was—finally!—out of their hair, and Angela expected to see another worried email or five when she was back in civilization. She ate her noodles a little savagely, thinking of that. She wanted to get away from all these wretched family problems and just have fun for once! In September she'd only have time to study, as she'd been warned repeatedly.
"Damn, what's taking Dave so long?" asked Kai, setting down his empty bowl. "Did he reply?"
Service was spotty out here, but he should have got the message through short-range connections.
"Let's go look for him," Vic said. "He might have fallen ass-over-teakettle into poison ivy or something."
Angela checked her pokédex. It had been a while. "Yeah, I feel kinda concerned, let's clear up and go looking."
She set her pokédex to track other 'dexes and Ophelia's plant-type aura as the other two tidied the dishes and loaded them into the storage device.
"Should we all go? What if someone's trying to split us up, or take our stuff if we all go looking for him?" Kai wondered suddenly.
"Fuck, quit trying to scare me, dude," Vic said. "Who the hell else is out here? The last person we saw was the guide at La Balise."
"Kai, can you stay here while Vic and I go look for Dave?" Angela suggested after a moment.
"Leaving me alone to get stabbed, huh," Kai said dryly, but he tossed Cavall's pokéball to the ground. The borfang yawned and flexed his wings.
"Can I eat his noodles?" Vic asked.
"Do it, they're getting soggy," Angela said. She checked her own pokéball belt and released Rio; the tibyss looked out into the forest and sniffed.
Vic scarfed down the soup noisily, ignoring her begging wintris. "Do you remember which way he went?"
"I'm pretty sure it was this way," Angela said, calling up the area map on her pokédex. There was a path down to a lookout point, and there were usually alcoves along the way for battles. It was a little optimistic given how few trainers they tended to see out in parks, but maybe one day.
"Don't get killed," Kai said encouragingly as Angela and Vic headed out into the forest.
Rio heard the voices first. The four of them approached cautiously, then faster as they heard screaming.
They came to a larger clearing. Dave's habadryad was fighting his borfang, but—
Ophelia's hide was smoldering, covered in burning pepper seeds and oil. Hannas was hitting her with sparkling fairy wind attacks, but she was lunging forward and snapping without pause, her eyes rolled into the back of her head.
"Ophelia! Ophie, stop! Stop!" Dave screamed, his voice ragged.
"Dave? What's going on?"
He spun. "Ange! Ange, run—"
The habadryad squeaked as the borfang picked her up bodily in her jaws and shook her head violently. Hannas fainted, turning to energy and fleeing for Dave's belt.
Ophelia turned toward the trainers.
"Garon!" Vic said. "Icy wind!—Dave, what?"
Dave was trying to push her and Ange away. "Don't, just run, she's—"
With a bound, Ophelia was right in front of them. Rio shot forward and clamped on her neck with an ice fang, the frost driving into her hide and partially covering her face. The borfang kept coming, swiping at the tibyss, and the wintris grabbed one of her legs in an ice fang of his own.
The three trainers backed off. For a moment, it looked like Rio and Garon's ice-type attacks were taking a toll—thank the saints for double weaknesses—and then Ophelia shook them both off with a savage roll that left black ichor leaking from her wounds where she'd dragged their jaws out of her flesh.
She roared, dragon's breath flaring blue and teal into the air and withering the grass underfoot. Garon and Rio threw themselves out of the way, circling behind Ophelia.
She set her eyes on the humans.
"Rio, use—"
"Ophelia!" Dave shouted, putting himself heroically between Vic and Ange and the borfang. "Please! Stop!"
She didn't.
x.x.x.x.x
Something watches. It smiles.
Animals and pokémon come across it in the wood; they startle. They move off, their minds sliding off of it like water. It is faceless.
They forget it instantly.
They smell it for a long time afterward, shivering and troubled for reasons they cannot remember.
It smells like blood. A lot of it.
x.x.x.x.x
"Hey Mor, I found—guh!" Russ grunted.
"Shutupshutupshutup!" Moriko hissed. She yanked him behind a rock.
"Rude," he said. He massaged his shoulder. "What is it?"
"Look at that mooskeg," Moriko said, excited.
He cautiously peered around the side of the boulder. There was a big mooskeg, teal and brown with its white antlers wreathed in water-weed, wading through the stream. It hadn't noticed them yet, and it was upwind; they could sneak up on it.
"What's the holdup?"
"Trying to figure out the best angle. I don't want it to just run," Moriko said.
"If it wants to run you should let it," Russ reminded her gently. "Don't waste the pokéball."
"I know! I know." She picked at the lichen dotting the rock. "But maybe I could persuade it. It would be excited at having a good battle."
"Uh huh. Well, let me—"
"Russ! We can't cheat!"
"—scare it, just scare it, with Sylvia and drive it toward you."
She bit her lip. "Yeah," she said slowly. "Tricky. I like it."
"Nice. Allons-y."
Moriko stayed crouched behind the boulder while Russ shuffled away, making a wide loop through the trees. She waited impatiently, legs getting sore. A bug was flying around nearby, probably getting ready to buzz straight into her ear.
"C'mon, Russ—"
A shuffling on the bank, and Russ fell into the water with a splash.
The mooskeg started, surprised, and then waded over to him, snout extended and sniffing.
"Hey! Leave him alone!" Sylvia barked. She burst out of cover, flying straight into its face.
It bellowed and hit the borfang with a vine whip across the muzzle. She yelped and snapped at it, probably reflexively, and it hit her with its antlers.
Shit. Moriko leapt up and hurled Liona's pokéball into the air, and the nigriff burst out and winged toward the mooskeg.
"I've got it, Sylvia! Help Russell!" she yelled.
The mooskeg snorted and fired off a water gun toward Liona, who dodged and streaked in with a wing attack. The air-type energy flashed silver and scraped over the moose pokémon's hide, but she was given a hard thwack by the mooskeg's antlers in passing.
Sylvia had landed in the stream and Russ hopped on her back. She leapt into the air herself, carrying him away from the fight.
"Ha! Run, pup!" the mooskeg called after her. "And as for you—"
The surface of the water swirled, rising, and blasted off after Liona, who was hit squarely and fell onto the riverbank, coughing and sodden. She shuffled backward as the mooskeg charged, head lowered, and Moriko snapped her pokéball out to recall her.
"Tarahn!" Moriko called, throwing his pokéball.
"Oh please, this is your fighter?" the mooskeg scoffed. "I've been crushing raigar bones since long before your parent whelped you, kitten."
"Uh, rude," Tarahn said, and he split into three copies.
"Thunder wave!"
The mooskeg charged into the double-team illusions, but they evaded it, dodging and turning, and the real one emitted the thunder wave attack. The mooskeg crowed triumphantly, seeing the illusion, but the sound died in its throat as its muscles seized.
Tarahn darted in, raking its sides with poison claw and getting a good poison fang in on one of its forelegs, and then he splashed away, further up the stream. Another water blast caught him in the back, bowling him over. He got back to his feet and stayed out of reach, firing off a venom spray as the mooskeg staggered toward him.
The mooskeg summoned nature power, producing a stream of water choked with plant life that shot after Tarahn. He fired a thundershock at it, strafing to the side.
"Copycat that, Tarahn!" Moriko said, running along the opposite bank after them.
Tarahn grimaced, concentrating, and then stones and mud from his position on the bank started to levitate. They pelted after the mooskeg, weighing it down and blinding it.
"You know a few tricks, kitten," the mooskeg said, panting. "So do I."
Roots shot out from under the riverbank, snaring Tarahn. He yelped, trying to tear his paws out from their grasp. The mooskeg charged again, throwing off the paralysis—into empty air as Moriko recalled the raigar.
"Confound you, human!" the mooskeg bellowed as Moriko threw out Liona's ball again. "Enough of these games!"
The nigriff came out flying, her wings scything through the air and winding up another air attack to rake the mooskeg. It fired off another water gun attack that went wide.
"Whirlwind, Liona!"
The vortex of air spun into place around the mooskeg, muffling its shouts of rage and churning up the water. Liona launched a couple of gust attacks and then leapt into the air, flying straight up and then down in a flying press. She hit with a meaty thud, springing away from her opponent's last antler sweep.
The mooskeg slumped. It couldn't stand, leaking black ichor into the stream, and it bared its teeth ferociously, its lungs working with huge bellows-breaths.
"What next?" it forced out.
Moriko drew an ultra ball out of her pocket—pricy, but with a larger capture net for bigger and more powerful pokémon—and tossed it underhand. The mooskeg saw it at the last minute, turning its head, and then it was opening, the energy of the net spilling out over it and turning it to energy. It bobbed, floating, and Liona caught it in her forepaw.
"Watch out!" Moriko said, wading into the river. "Is it wiggling?"
"No, I can't feel anything. I'll bring it to you," the nigriff said, splashing over to her, three-legged.
"Great work! Thanks, Liona." Moriko scratched behind her beak.
"What happens now?" Liona asked, watching the ball.
"Same as with you—potions and a snack. Let's head back to the camp."
x.x.x.x.x
Matt raised his eyebrows at Moriko as she came back into view. "You push Russ into the water?"
She laughed. "Not personally, but I guess I was responsible. I caught a mooskeg!"
"Oh, wonderful! You might have six pokémon by the time we get to Sunset Mountain, if you're lucky."
"Says the guy with three pokémon," Moriko retorted, annoyed.
Matt put his head on one side. "Mmm. Touché."
"Where is Russ?"
"Up in the air with Sylvia. Scouting, I guess."
Moriko assembled potions and treats for the mooskeg, but Russell and Sylvia soon touched down again.
"Uh, guys?" Russ said.
x.x.x.x.x
Moriko went up on Liona's back to see it herself: to the southwest, the forest was burning. It was throwing up dark smoke that was billowing wider and taller by the moment. No flames were visible at their distance, and they couldn't smell it because the wind was blowing it away from them, which was a small mercy.
"Seriously? It's been such a wet summer," Russ said to himself, paging through his pokédex.
Matt didn't say anything, just sat and crossed his arms gloomily.
"It's a ways out still, I think we could just keep walking parallel to it. I guess?" Moriko added, uncertain.
"There should be a ranger notice about it, but I'm not getting any service. There's a trainer wayhouse about a day away, though."
"Let's go there and connect, then, and see what the forecast is on the fire."
Russ nodded. "Maybe we'll have to turn around, but it will be better to know than just guessing. Matt?"
Matt grunted and set about packing up his stuff, and the other two followed suit.
x.x.x.x.x
The wayhouse was comfortable but amusingly forward-thinking: it had rows of bunks, tables, and a cleared area outside for a couple dozen travelers, and with just the three of them it was strangely empty. They didn't have much time to appreciate it, though, because its internet connection was working. Their pokédexes lit up with hazard warnings and pokémon ranger notices almost as soon as they connected.
The fire looked like a distorted balloon, with a broad head where the fire had been burning outward for longer, and a long, zig-zagging tail. There were satellite photos, grainy and pixelated to suit their weak connection. Ranger commentary said that they weren't sure what had started the blaze, but the pattern was common to fire-type pokémon burning out of control.
Any pokémon trainers in the area were strongly urged to send notice and meet rangers for evacuation at a listed set of coordinates.
Moriko felt more apprehension at the suggestion that the fire was started by a ronin. A lightning strike was just bad luck; it wasn't like the fire could try to follow you, consciously.
They could just keep going. Rangers would probably be along to neutralize the pokémon shortly. Then again, they wouldn't know whether the ronin was after them until it was too late.
"How far away is the rendezvous?" Moriko asked.
Russ wiggled one hand. "Another day."
She grimaced. "Should we eat dinner and keep going?"
"A night march in the forest wouldn't be my favorite," Russ said doubtfully. He scrolled through the ranger page, thinking. "If it turns at a right angle and speeds up we'd be in danger tonight. I'm pretty sure we can sleep and keep going tomorrow."
Matt was being quiet again.
"Matt? Any input?" Moriko asked.
He nodded stiffly. "Sounds good," he managed to say.
x.x.x.x.x
They slept uneasily, waking to check their pokédexes every hour. In the morning the ronin hadn't made any right angle turns, but it was shifting east, and they set out early. Apprehension lent them speed, unable to check on the fire's progress away from the wayhouse's wi-fi. Periodically they sent up a flying pokémon to check on the progress of the smoke plume.
It seemed like it was getting closer. They sped up, sweating and swigging water, not speaking to one another, just thinking about their heavy packs and their boots thudding on the path
Moriko started to feel dizzy, dreamlike, an annoying incomplete earworm of last summer's pop music running through her head. Their footsteps took on a cadence that was almost music.
She halted when the orange pig manifested on the path.
She was really losing it, now. She shook her head.
It was a boar pokémon, autumn-colored with flame at its mouth and hind end. They all stood, frozen, hands on their belts; Moriko was leading, and so it was her battle.
But it didn't look like it wanted to: it was watching them, poised to run and yet expectant.
"Trainers," it grunted, finally. "I need yer help."
Arboar, the autumn pokémon. A plant- and fire-type, it evolves from leaflet near level twenty-four and to svarog with age or a fire stone. Their fire abilities are a relatively recent development. They give off a mild smoky smell and will roast nuts and tubers before eating them.
"Always happy to assist," Moriko said into the stillness.
It jerked its head toward the smoke behind them. "You runnin' from the fire?"
"That's right."
"It's my kid's fault," the arboar said. "A cannibal came 'round and we killt it, an' the elder said leave it be. Ain't clean. My kid went back and ate it."
Moriko felt cold, thinking of Latna the caligryph and his human prey. But he'd been doing it wrong: a killer pokémon got stronger from eating other pokémon, not humans. So what would happen if you ate a killer? Would you get all that energy?
"What happened to her?" she asked.
"She evolved an' started burnin'. Real fire like an elder. Outta control. Gonna burn down the whole damn forest at this rate." It sighed. "She ain't the same. Reckon a trainer could help her out. Get some experience. Stop doin' damnfool things like eatin' cannibal souls."
"I… don't think we can go toward the fire," Moriko said.
Matt threw down his backpack and selected a handful of pokéballs, medicines—
"Matt—"
"Carry my bag for me," Matt said, not looking at them. "I'll meet you back at the rendezvous."
"Matt," Russ said, "are you seriously—"
"I'll be back," he said, lightly, but Maia burst out of her pokéball and fixed him with an orange glare. "It will be simple," he said, but there was something floating, detached, about his voice.
"Let's be sensible," Russ said. "We'll go with you. Technically we're getting ahead of the fire when we go after this pokémon. Right?"
"Ayup," the arboar agreed.
"We can't!" Moriko protested. "It's high-level, if it's actually setting fire to the forest!"
"It might just be temporary, from the evolution, from eating the ronin," Matt said. "I can do it."
Russ threw down a pokéball, and Matt stiffened, backing away.
"No!" Russ said, placating. "It's just—it's just Sylvia."
The borfang looked between the two of them and went over to Matt and Maia.
"Bring him back when you're done, Sylvia, and right away if he does something boneheaded."
Sylvia looked at Maia hopefully; Maia tilted her head, appraising, and then dipped her chin to the borfang. Sylvia rippled her long tail.
"Matt," Moriko said sharply. "Be smart. I'm not dying for you. Come back, alright?"
Matt smirked and gave her a sarcastic salute. Russ tossed him Sylvia's pokéball. In a moment, the borfang had leapt into the air and flown away over the treetops. Toward the smoke, against all sane advice.
"Good luck," said the arboar. "He's gonna need it." It disappeared into the brush again, deceptively quick for its bulk.
Moriko wiped sweat off her forehead, suddenly feeling like she couldn't be sure if that short conversation had been real. She looked at Russ. "Can we trust it? Maybe this is all a game to them, to lure in trainers."
Russ looked out over the trees, and he shrugged his thin shoulders uneasily. "I guess we'll find out. He has Sylvia, though. She'll keep him out of trouble."
It felt like unwarranted optimism, given how this journey had gone for them so far. "Let's get to the rangers," Moriko said. "He might need rescuing eventually. Are you sure that was a good idea, sending Sylvia off with him? With an ice-type?"
Russ looked uncomfortable. "I trust Matt," he said. "He's good people. I know you don't like him, but—"
Moriko put away all her objections. He couldn't see what was in front of his face, for some reason.
"Alright. I trust you," she said. She shook his shoulder gently. "We better go."
x.x.x.x.x
Sylvia flew west, alongside the strange, erratic path of the blaze. Smoke hung over it, black and gray, with licking flames in red and orange breaking through here and there. The color depended on what the fire was eating, had eaten. He'd read that somewhere.
Matthew Reyes was aware of many sensations as he clutched at the borfang, limbs crabbed and eyes closed. Wind in his hair. The stumps of Sylvia's trimmed dorsal spines pressing into his chest. The gently seesawing feeling when she broke her glide to beat her wings, air-type energy swirling over her, over him.
That ever-present feeling of failure. He saw Sam; he saw her pokémon; he saw his pokémon, the ones that had left, that had died.
Fuck. Fuck. Keep it together.
The fear was with him, as it always was. It didn't know he was slipping his leash.
If something could be fought and mastered, would it disappear?
He opened his eyes, turned his head to look down at the treetops, watched them approach and fall behind. The void called out to him, but he didn't relax his grip; the fear didn't redouble.
Maybe.
"Are we close?" he said, his words disappearing into the wind.
She got the sense of them. "Almost," said Sylvia. "There!"
Barely visible in the smoke and haze, and through the mask of the trees themselves, was a mass of flame. It ran with a frightening speed, dodging and weaving, changing direction randomly, barrelling through obstacles.
They had to get away from the smoke. He really would die if he tried to engage the svarog as it ran west, the wind pushing all those fumes and poisons towards him.
"Good girl. Keep following, we'll get it when it runs south. Fly a little lower."
The borfang complied, dipping one wing and shifting closer to the treetops. Far below, their quarry slammed into an ancient pine, ripping a chunk of the wood out in a shower of splinters and bark. Fire licked the wound, and spread through the dry needles on the forest floor.
x.x.x.x.x
Maia jumped heavily into a nearby spruce, claws scrabbling at the wood. Behind her, the tree she'd been in toppled, fire crawling up its length.
The svarog bellowed in rage and attacked her new perch, ignoring the jets of water that the tibyss sprayed down onto it.
The monster was an enormous boar, a dark shape wreathed in flame, with smoke pouring off of and obscuring its body.
Matt spritzed Bjorn with potion and burn heal, the angry, singed wounds closing and subsiding under the treatment.
His hands shook, the impulse to run as fast and as far as possible very strong. He kept a rein on himself, as best he could, but the fear was like an animal thrashing in his mind. He worked quickly; if the thing took notice of him, it would be the end of his control and probably his life.
He'd considered the idea that the arboar had led him into a trap. It was possible; not all wild pokémon cared for humans, and many had excellent reasons not to.
Their only reprieve was that the svarog didn't seem to be able to control and launch an attack with its flame, something that all fire types took time to learn. Its physical attacks were still formidable, its triple blackened tusks razor-sharp, and it was strong enough to rip at the trunks of trees like they were sugar.
"How's that? Better?"
The ursaring rose to his hind legs, flexed his forepaws. "Is good," he grunted.
"Good," Matt echoed. "You're up again. Do you remember how to earthquake?"
Bjorn's eyes glittered under a heavy brow ridge. "At last," he said, slouching off toward his opponent and Maia.
"Don't get used to it," Matt called after him.
The ursaring roared a challenge, followed by an ordinary-looking stomp as the boar pokémon turned to face him. A wave of dirt flew up from the forest floor, ground-type energy sluicing over the svarog.
There had been a time when it would have thrown up rocks, chunks of earth, broken the ground. Bjorn had lost a lot of levels between here and Johto.
The boar pokémon staggered, faltering, and Maia hit it with a hydro pump, the bolt of water hammering it to its belly.
Did it seem to rise more tiredly? Was it burning less intensely? Matt couldn't tell, couldn't see outside his own desire to please, please, please be gone from here.
Bjorn stomped again, sending another wave of energy toward the svarog, and then used feint attack to skate out of the way of its answering charge. It was absurdly fast for its bulk, catching the ursaring on the side with its tusks and slicing him like a razor. Bjorn groaned, the sound cut off as Matt recalled him.
Too slow, he thought. "Tak! You're up!" he said, throwing out a great ball.
The honchkrow immediately angled away from the svarog and the tree it was ramming. He circled instead of just fleeing wholesale, which was progress.
Tak cawed. "Hellfrost, boss, why aren'tcha running?"
Great question. "Gust, Tak, stay out of its reach. I only have so much burn heal."
"Wasted it on your bear!"
Tak flapped his wings, stirring up vortices that whirled after the svarog. The wind blew back its smoke, revealing more of its body briefly. It barely noticed the attacks; Matt was about to order another when it turned and fired off its vines to pull Tak out of the air.
The honchkrow shot up high, but he needn't have bothered: the appendages were limp and confused, swiping ineffectually. The svarog shook itself, staggering as it stepped forward a pace.
"You are hurting," Matt muttered. "Maia! Hydro pump!"
The tibyss charged up another water attack, and it punched onto the svarog, exploding in a gout of steam. It bellowed, enraged, its flaming skin flaring even higher, and it charged Maia's tree.
The trunk exploded into splinters; Matt curled away and grunted as a fragment hit him. When he looked again, Maia was in another tree, her claws rending the bark as she slid down.
The svarog was waiting; it reared up on the tree trunk, tusks slashing the bark and sending wood flying.
"Maia!"
Tak came to the rescue, his whirlwind sliding onto the svarog to trap it, and he launched into a pleased tirade about the boar pokémon's unlikely ancestry.
Maia leapt away, landing in a shower of debris and trotting toward Matt.
He pulled out his pokédex at last; Maia was hurt, but not unexpectedly so. The svarog's readout was covered in out-of-bounds cautions and true-combustion warnings. Of course. What were the odds that it would stay this powerful after he caught it? Slim, knowing his luck—or it would stay powerful, and stay insane. Well, he'd always been a damn fool.
Maia stood between him and the svarog. Tak kept up his gust attacks, but the boar pokémon's health was jumping around on the pokédex screen.
"Tak, try—"
The svarog began to advance, pushing through the whirlwind—no—it was dragging the whirlwind with it, the winds spiralling its fire and smoke up into the air in a tornado of flame.
Are you fucking kidding—"Icy wind, Maia, sorry to throw you back in again."
Maia laughed, and she called to the honchkrow to move out of the way. She breathed a stream of ice onto the svarog, icicles building up on it in moments and slowing it again. It groaned, somewhere in the whirl of flame, and flared again, shaking off the whirlwind.
"Tak—"
It exploded forward like a missile, barrelling straight for him. With a twitch of its head it had thrown Maia aside.
Matt couldn't move.
Dimly, he wondered where the fear was. Wasn't that your purpose, to keep me idle and safe? Endlessly it had whispered to him about the unexpected danger of ordinary things, had filled him with cold and sick dread. And when he actually was in peril, it had nothing for him.
I'm sorry, Maia, he thought.
Light filled his vision, and he wondered if he'd died already.
Time resumed, and the wind from a giant pair of dragon's wings knocked him to the ground. Sylvia leapt onto the svarog, her jaws clamping on its face, and she went rolling with it in a tumble of limbs.
They smashed ferns and ground cover, flames smoldering on the wet ground. Sylvia got to her feet first, seizing the svarog by the neck and tearing at it violently, burning ichor flying onto the ground and sizzling. Maia reappeared with a water gun attack, and Tak lashed his wings, air-type energy soaring in.
At last it lay still, and Matt remembered the ultra ball in his hand. He ignored the soon-motionless ball, his attention entirely for Maia slumping toward him, covered in blood, and for Sylvia, slashed and burned and unable to fly.
Mooskeg / Ronin / Forest Fire
—June 13th-20th 128 CR
Matt waited for Belladonna in the garden, the breeze bringing him breaths of faintly chemical fragrances. He had the persistent feeling that the plants were watching, hanging bells and stars and trumpet-shaped blooms all turning toward him. He wasn't sure if they were supplicants or hunters.
When Belladonna appeared, he swore they looked for her, too. Not his supplicants, then.
The gym leader was striding to her next appointment, sandaled feet quick on the stone path. Her resting face was unremarkable, and then she saw him: she grinned, metamorphosing, the sudden animation of her face striking, arresting, drawing the eye. He thought he saw fangs, like an asura's.
She kept walking. He followed her. She set a fast pace, the tall hedges whisking by like a tunnel, down into faerieland.
"Why do you do this?" he asked, as they approached the arena. "You're just like they say."
"Fuck 'em," Belladonna said. "What do I care what a bunch of zhoresu think?"
Zhoresu: the thin people. The faded people. Third crossing. It felt like a little desperate coming from someone who was half.
"It's a performance, cousin," Belladonna said, with the air of explaining something basic to a small child. "It keeps the seats full and the kids pleasantly frightened, and no one gets hurt. Permanently," she amended, flipping a hand. "I'm providing a service, alright? And when I get tired of it I'll do something else. Everyone changes up the act once in a while."
Matt's lip curled. "You think you're royalty? You're a sad excuse for an entertainer. Don't you care what it makes them think? About us?"
Belladonna snorted. "They see us being good and normal every single damn day, and then they see me for ninety minutes and that convinces them of what they always knew."
Matt heard the bitterness, and he felt it in his bones.
"I could go out there in a suit and glasses and teach calculus, and they'd see some other kid get in a fight or swagger with a gang, and they'd decide then instead. At least this way I make a buck."
He didn't have anything to say to that. Belladonna kept going; she had an appointment.
"They already decided about you and Moriko, Matt," she said over her shoulder. "And about me, too. So fuck 'em. Do what you want!"
x.x.x.x.x
In the morning, Tarahn was fine, the damage to his energy skeleton fully repaired. The fear was gone.
That left the shame.
Moriko remembered everything. The looks on people's faces; Belladonna's laughter; her sick panic at seeing Tarahn devoured by the tentacruel. It felt like a blow, like knives, like ice and fire. She put her hands on her face, tears squeezing out from between her closed eyelids.
Moriko lay miserably in her cot until it was too warm and muggy in the dorm, and then she found a tree to sit under in a public park. Tarahn nudged her periodically, but she was sullen, paging through her pokédex to waste time. Rufus was happy to nap in the sea breeze, a faint haze of heat riding from his body; eventually Tarahn gave up and crawled into the oxhaust's lap to doze.
Russ and Matt joined her, and she ignored them, too. Russ threw a ball for Sylvia, flinging it high into the air or over rooftops, but the borfang only needed a few wingflaps to intercept and catch it in mid-air. Matt sat quietly under the tree, leaning against Maia.
They watched Russ play-wrestle with Sylvia; Conall the dirfox watched, and then eagerly joined in. Shaky, still, after his experience in the ring, but getting better.
"So, what's your plan, Moriko?" Matt murmured.
"Hmm?"
"What are you going to do next?"
She sighed. "Go sign up again, I guess. Train while I'm waiting."
"Want to use Maia? Speed things up?"
Moriko instantly felt sick. The tibyss was magnificent, but… She remembered the looks on Rufus and Tarahn's faces, back in Umber. She could taste their disappointment, pale and nauseous, at the back of her throat.
"No," she said. "No, I can't."
"Can't you? Come on, it's not bad—"
"I won't, Matt." Her mouth twisted up with disgust. "I won't. It has to be me and my team."
"Well, if you don't want to play it smart…"
Moriko set her jaw.
"It's just a suggestion, so don't get mad—"
Moriko sat up so she could leave. "Funny how telling people not to get mad pisses them off. Boosting hurt Rufus and Tarahn, Matt, and it made me feel weird. I'll do it on my own."
"Noted. New suggestion: let's keep going to Russet Town. We have to come back to Porphyry to take the train to Sunset Mountain. You could fight her again at tier seven instead."
She narrowed her eyes, watching him. "What good will that do?"
"Kicks the can down the road. Makes it a problem for future you." He laughed. Maia gave a stern murr. "You… might be in a better state of mind then, more wins, more confident. And she'll have different pokémon for that level bracket. You won't see that tentacruel again."
Her gut twisted. "Its sibling then, worse-behaved."
Matt shrugged. "Think about it."
Moriko walked off; Rufus and Tarahn stirred and followed her. They didn't say anything, but she didn't feel any unhappiness or resentment from them, either.
Coming around the corner, she saw the amphitheater of the gym rising above the surrounding buildings and stared at it. She'd sign up again and train more, get an edge with power.
But. Belladonna would know she was coming. She'd know her pokémon; she'd know that her varanitor had almost beaten Rufus and that her tentacruel had definitely beaten Tarahn, despite the type matchup. Round two, fight.
Better to get it done with? Probably, but what if she couldn't win? Another week, another wait, the guys getting more and more impatient, pushing her to boost with their pokémon… Anxiety twisted in her chest.
Matt's idea had an incredible appeal. She could come back in sleepier, hotter August with a smaller crowd, a different audience as people left to watch the tournament at Thalassa Heights.
And if she was an animal, better to be out in the woods with the other animals. Better to be alone or nearly and away from the scrutiny of the crowd and their judgment.
"Yeah," she said. She blew out her breath, her overlong bangs stirring. "Yeah, let's get out of here."
x.x.x.x.x
They took the train out of Porphyry to the salt marshes to the west, sunnier and more open than those in the east. They hired a guide to take them through the crisscrossing channels, the water green and gray underneath overhanging banks and sunken trees, the paths hung with vines and moss. This was good country for canoeing; they had to portage a few times but not excessively. Russ and Moriko raced Matt and the guide, arms pumping, but the guide could have beaten them on her own.
The three of them reached the river delta at La Balise, a beautiful location with zero tourists and long stretches of shaded beaches. It was a rich area, dense with animals and pokémon: they'd seen goredile and the papiliris line in the swamp, and on the beach there were sclallap and hermean in the shallows, and vitreel and its evolutions along the reef.
Wingull and pelipper were everywhere, flying and diving, and they even saw a gigantic albacant from far away. Moriko and Russ caught a poliwhirl and a corphish that declined to stay with them but were happy to receive treats before they left.
Moriko was interested in goredile, but the crocodile pokémon had a distressing tendency to give their canoes warning slaps if they lingered too long. The air was thick with mosquitoes as well, and they could only carry so much repellent. A few mutant skeeters didn't care about that either, so it was a relief to get into the dryer forest.
Moriko started to feel better, away from the city and the crush of people. She slept through the night, and if she was awoken by rain or insects buzzing she could fall asleep again instead of stewing and wishing for trainers chatting in the dorms to leave. Some people liked that environment, liked the activity and the opportunity, but gods, she'd found it stifling.
Even her overreaction at the gym had started to lose some of its clarity. Some other trainer would lose or win amusingly, and she'd be forgotten about. And even Matt had been strangely forgiving, not bringing it up constantly to shame her.
She really needed to slow down and enjoy herself. It felt like every day since Tsugaru had been a life-or-death struggle with the weight of terrible expectations on her. She could always try again or skip gyms; hell, she could leave and go to another region. Angela and them had treated it all as a big vacation, and they'd caught more pokémon to boot.
Moriko wondered if Angela had gone back to Port Littoral like they'd talked about. She snorted. Angela wanted to quit when her group hadn't even run into any trouble, just heard about it. Likely Moriko's group was the magnet for trouble, and the others would have an eventless summer.
x.x.x.x.x
Angela gave the pot of instant noodles a final stir before moving it off the embers of the fire, the soup packet blooming as the dehydrated vegetables and soup stock hit the water. Not at all bad for camping food.
"Soup's ready, guys!" she called.
They were making good time to Russet Town. There had been a lot of warnings on the ranger boards for Verdure and its surrounding areas, but they'd decided to give the route west from Porphyry a chance. It had been great despite the marsh and the bugs: beautiful weather and tons of pokémon, and there were wayhouses and guides along the way to provide shelter and direction on the well-maintained trails.
She divided the noodles and broth into four bowls, lining them up near to the fire so they wouldn't get cold, and Kai and Vic turned up with their pokémon.
"Garon, give that here!" Vic said as her wintris stole a packet of jerky.
Angela looked around. "Where's Dave?"
"Training with Ophelia," Vic replied, slurping her noodles. "Send him a message."
The four of them all had their badges from the towns they'd visited so far. Dave had come the closest to losing in Verdure and Porphyry—that Porphyry gym leader had been weird, and the fights difficult and bloody—and had devoted the most time to training since then.
Despite how their journey had started out mostly unplanned, they were all overachievers, and none of them liked passing by narrow margins. If they were going to do this, they were going to do it right.
She'd been glad when they'd gotten out of the swamp. The borfang were strong, but they were young and could only fly two people a short distance at a time. There wasn't much choice for landing sites, either. They'd ended up renting two boats, but it was just as well—they caught a couple pokémon, and the scenery was just spectacular.
The marshlands had slowly turned into seawoods, still lush but not nearly as damp underfoot, and they were making great time again, interspersing rapid flights aboard Ophelia and Cavall with leisurely walks and attempts to track wild pokémon.
It was really a boon to have the storage devices. Angela felt bad, abandoning Russ to the mercies of her cousin and a stranger, but it was his decision. She wasn't really sure what was motivating that, against all better judgement, but she'd given up trying to speculate what flavor of bizarre affection Russell had for Moriko.
Her parents still refused to see sense, that Moriko was—finally!—out of their hair, and Angela expected to see another worried email or five when she was back in civilization. She ate her noodles a little savagely, thinking of that. She wanted to get away from all these wretched family problems and just have fun for once! In September she'd only have time to study, as she'd been warned repeatedly.
"Damn, what's taking Dave so long?" asked Kai, setting down his empty bowl. "Did he reply?"
Service was spotty out here, but he should have got the message through short-range connections.
"Let's go look for him," Vic said. "He might have fallen ass-over-teakettle into poison ivy or something."
Angela checked her pokédex. It had been a while. "Yeah, I feel kinda concerned, let's clear up and go looking."
She set her pokédex to track other 'dexes and Ophelia's plant-type aura as the other two tidied the dishes and loaded them into the storage device.
"Should we all go? What if someone's trying to split us up, or take our stuff if we all go looking for him?" Kai wondered suddenly.
"Fuck, quit trying to scare me, dude," Vic said. "Who the hell else is out here? The last person we saw was the guide at La Balise."
"Kai, can you stay here while Vic and I go look for Dave?" Angela suggested after a moment.
"Leaving me alone to get stabbed, huh," Kai said dryly, but he tossed Cavall's pokéball to the ground. The borfang yawned and flexed his wings.
"Can I eat his noodles?" Vic asked.
"Do it, they're getting soggy," Angela said. She checked her own pokéball belt and released Rio; the tibyss looked out into the forest and sniffed.
Vic scarfed down the soup noisily, ignoring her begging wintris. "Do you remember which way he went?"
"I'm pretty sure it was this way," Angela said, calling up the area map on her pokédex. There was a path down to a lookout point, and there were usually alcoves along the way for battles. It was a little optimistic given how few trainers they tended to see out in parks, but maybe one day.
"Don't get killed," Kai said encouragingly as Angela and Vic headed out into the forest.
Rio heard the voices first. The four of them approached cautiously, then faster as they heard screaming.
They came to a larger clearing. Dave's habadryad was fighting his borfang, but—
Ophelia's hide was smoldering, covered in burning pepper seeds and oil. Hannas was hitting her with sparkling fairy wind attacks, but she was lunging forward and snapping without pause, her eyes rolled into the back of her head.
"Ophelia! Ophie, stop! Stop!" Dave screamed, his voice ragged.
"Dave? What's going on?"
He spun. "Ange! Ange, run—"
The habadryad squeaked as the borfang picked her up bodily in her jaws and shook her head violently. Hannas fainted, turning to energy and fleeing for Dave's belt.
Ophelia turned toward the trainers.
"Garon!" Vic said. "Icy wind!—Dave, what?"
Dave was trying to push her and Ange away. "Don't, just run, she's—"
With a bound, Ophelia was right in front of them. Rio shot forward and clamped on her neck with an ice fang, the frost driving into her hide and partially covering her face. The borfang kept coming, swiping at the tibyss, and the wintris grabbed one of her legs in an ice fang of his own.
The three trainers backed off. For a moment, it looked like Rio and Garon's ice-type attacks were taking a toll—thank the saints for double weaknesses—and then Ophelia shook them both off with a savage roll that left black ichor leaking from her wounds where she'd dragged their jaws out of her flesh.
She roared, dragon's breath flaring blue and teal into the air and withering the grass underfoot. Garon and Rio threw themselves out of the way, circling behind Ophelia.
She set her eyes on the humans.
"Rio, use—"
"Ophelia!" Dave shouted, putting himself heroically between Vic and Ange and the borfang. "Please! Stop!"
She didn't.
x.x.x.x.x
Something watches. It smiles.
Animals and pokémon come across it in the wood; they startle. They move off, their minds sliding off of it like water. It is faceless.
They forget it instantly.
They smell it for a long time afterward, shivering and troubled for reasons they cannot remember.
It smells like blood. A lot of it.
x.x.x.x.x
"Hey Mor, I found—guh!" Russ grunted.
"Shutupshutupshutup!" Moriko hissed. She yanked him behind a rock.
"Rude," he said. He massaged his shoulder. "What is it?"
"Look at that mooskeg," Moriko said, excited.
He cautiously peered around the side of the boulder. There was a big mooskeg, teal and brown with its white antlers wreathed in water-weed, wading through the stream. It hadn't noticed them yet, and it was upwind; they could sneak up on it.
"What's the holdup?"
"Trying to figure out the best angle. I don't want it to just run," Moriko said.
"If it wants to run you should let it," Russ reminded her gently. "Don't waste the pokéball."
"I know! I know." She picked at the lichen dotting the rock. "But maybe I could persuade it. It would be excited at having a good battle."
"Uh huh. Well, let me—"
"Russ! We can't cheat!"
"—scare it, just scare it, with Sylvia and drive it toward you."
She bit her lip. "Yeah," she said slowly. "Tricky. I like it."
"Nice. Allons-y."
Moriko stayed crouched behind the boulder while Russ shuffled away, making a wide loop through the trees. She waited impatiently, legs getting sore. A bug was flying around nearby, probably getting ready to buzz straight into her ear.
"C'mon, Russ—"
A shuffling on the bank, and Russ fell into the water with a splash.
The mooskeg started, surprised, and then waded over to him, snout extended and sniffing.
"Hey! Leave him alone!" Sylvia barked. She burst out of cover, flying straight into its face.
It bellowed and hit the borfang with a vine whip across the muzzle. She yelped and snapped at it, probably reflexively, and it hit her with its antlers.
Shit. Moriko leapt up and hurled Liona's pokéball into the air, and the nigriff burst out and winged toward the mooskeg.
"I've got it, Sylvia! Help Russell!" she yelled.
The mooskeg snorted and fired off a water gun toward Liona, who dodged and streaked in with a wing attack. The air-type energy flashed silver and scraped over the moose pokémon's hide, but she was given a hard thwack by the mooskeg's antlers in passing.
Sylvia had landed in the stream and Russ hopped on her back. She leapt into the air herself, carrying him away from the fight.
"Ha! Run, pup!" the mooskeg called after her. "And as for you—"
The surface of the water swirled, rising, and blasted off after Liona, who was hit squarely and fell onto the riverbank, coughing and sodden. She shuffled backward as the mooskeg charged, head lowered, and Moriko snapped her pokéball out to recall her.
"Tarahn!" Moriko called, throwing his pokéball.
"Oh please, this is your fighter?" the mooskeg scoffed. "I've been crushing raigar bones since long before your parent whelped you, kitten."
"Uh, rude," Tarahn said, and he split into three copies.
"Thunder wave!"
The mooskeg charged into the double-team illusions, but they evaded it, dodging and turning, and the real one emitted the thunder wave attack. The mooskeg crowed triumphantly, seeing the illusion, but the sound died in its throat as its muscles seized.
Tarahn darted in, raking its sides with poison claw and getting a good poison fang in on one of its forelegs, and then he splashed away, further up the stream. Another water blast caught him in the back, bowling him over. He got back to his feet and stayed out of reach, firing off a venom spray as the mooskeg staggered toward him.
The mooskeg summoned nature power, producing a stream of water choked with plant life that shot after Tarahn. He fired a thundershock at it, strafing to the side.
"Copycat that, Tarahn!" Moriko said, running along the opposite bank after them.
Tarahn grimaced, concentrating, and then stones and mud from his position on the bank started to levitate. They pelted after the mooskeg, weighing it down and blinding it.
"You know a few tricks, kitten," the mooskeg said, panting. "So do I."
Roots shot out from under the riverbank, snaring Tarahn. He yelped, trying to tear his paws out from their grasp. The mooskeg charged again, throwing off the paralysis—into empty air as Moriko recalled the raigar.
"Confound you, human!" the mooskeg bellowed as Moriko threw out Liona's ball again. "Enough of these games!"
The nigriff came out flying, her wings scything through the air and winding up another air attack to rake the mooskeg. It fired off another water gun attack that went wide.
"Whirlwind, Liona!"
The vortex of air spun into place around the mooskeg, muffling its shouts of rage and churning up the water. Liona launched a couple of gust attacks and then leapt into the air, flying straight up and then down in a flying press. She hit with a meaty thud, springing away from her opponent's last antler sweep.
The mooskeg slumped. It couldn't stand, leaking black ichor into the stream, and it bared its teeth ferociously, its lungs working with huge bellows-breaths.
"What next?" it forced out.
Moriko drew an ultra ball out of her pocket—pricy, but with a larger capture net for bigger and more powerful pokémon—and tossed it underhand. The mooskeg saw it at the last minute, turning its head, and then it was opening, the energy of the net spilling out over it and turning it to energy. It bobbed, floating, and Liona caught it in her forepaw.
"Watch out!" Moriko said, wading into the river. "Is it wiggling?"
"No, I can't feel anything. I'll bring it to you," the nigriff said, splashing over to her, three-legged.
"Great work! Thanks, Liona." Moriko scratched behind her beak.
"What happens now?" Liona asked, watching the ball.
"Same as with you—potions and a snack. Let's head back to the camp."
x.x.x.x.x
Matt raised his eyebrows at Moriko as she came back into view. "You push Russ into the water?"
She laughed. "Not personally, but I guess I was responsible. I caught a mooskeg!"
"Oh, wonderful! You might have six pokémon by the time we get to Sunset Mountain, if you're lucky."
"Says the guy with three pokémon," Moriko retorted, annoyed.
Matt put his head on one side. "Mmm. Touché."
"Where is Russ?"
"Up in the air with Sylvia. Scouting, I guess."
Moriko assembled potions and treats for the mooskeg, but Russell and Sylvia soon touched down again.
"Uh, guys?" Russ said.
x.x.x.x.x
Moriko went up on Liona's back to see it herself: to the southwest, the forest was burning. It was throwing up dark smoke that was billowing wider and taller by the moment. No flames were visible at their distance, and they couldn't smell it because the wind was blowing it away from them, which was a small mercy.
"Seriously? It's been such a wet summer," Russ said to himself, paging through his pokédex.
Matt didn't say anything, just sat and crossed his arms gloomily.
"It's a ways out still, I think we could just keep walking parallel to it. I guess?" Moriko added, uncertain.
"There should be a ranger notice about it, but I'm not getting any service. There's a trainer wayhouse about a day away, though."
"Let's go there and connect, then, and see what the forecast is on the fire."
Russ nodded. "Maybe we'll have to turn around, but it will be better to know than just guessing. Matt?"
Matt grunted and set about packing up his stuff, and the other two followed suit.
x.x.x.x.x
The wayhouse was comfortable but amusingly forward-thinking: it had rows of bunks, tables, and a cleared area outside for a couple dozen travelers, and with just the three of them it was strangely empty. They didn't have much time to appreciate it, though, because its internet connection was working. Their pokédexes lit up with hazard warnings and pokémon ranger notices almost as soon as they connected.
The fire looked like a distorted balloon, with a broad head where the fire had been burning outward for longer, and a long, zig-zagging tail. There were satellite photos, grainy and pixelated to suit their weak connection. Ranger commentary said that they weren't sure what had started the blaze, but the pattern was common to fire-type pokémon burning out of control.
Any pokémon trainers in the area were strongly urged to send notice and meet rangers for evacuation at a listed set of coordinates.
Moriko felt more apprehension at the suggestion that the fire was started by a ronin. A lightning strike was just bad luck; it wasn't like the fire could try to follow you, consciously.
They could just keep going. Rangers would probably be along to neutralize the pokémon shortly. Then again, they wouldn't know whether the ronin was after them until it was too late.
"How far away is the rendezvous?" Moriko asked.
Russ wiggled one hand. "Another day."
She grimaced. "Should we eat dinner and keep going?"
"A night march in the forest wouldn't be my favorite," Russ said doubtfully. He scrolled through the ranger page, thinking. "If it turns at a right angle and speeds up we'd be in danger tonight. I'm pretty sure we can sleep and keep going tomorrow."
Matt was being quiet again.
"Matt? Any input?" Moriko asked.
He nodded stiffly. "Sounds good," he managed to say.
x.x.x.x.x
They slept uneasily, waking to check their pokédexes every hour. In the morning the ronin hadn't made any right angle turns, but it was shifting east, and they set out early. Apprehension lent them speed, unable to check on the fire's progress away from the wayhouse's wi-fi. Periodically they sent up a flying pokémon to check on the progress of the smoke plume.
It seemed like it was getting closer. They sped up, sweating and swigging water, not speaking to one another, just thinking about their heavy packs and their boots thudding on the path
Moriko started to feel dizzy, dreamlike, an annoying incomplete earworm of last summer's pop music running through her head. Their footsteps took on a cadence that was almost music.
She halted when the orange pig manifested on the path.
She was really losing it, now. She shook her head.
It was a boar pokémon, autumn-colored with flame at its mouth and hind end. They all stood, frozen, hands on their belts; Moriko was leading, and so it was her battle.
But it didn't look like it wanted to: it was watching them, poised to run and yet expectant.
"Trainers," it grunted, finally. "I need yer help."
Arboar, the autumn pokémon. A plant- and fire-type, it evolves from leaflet near level twenty-four and to svarog with age or a fire stone. Their fire abilities are a relatively recent development. They give off a mild smoky smell and will roast nuts and tubers before eating them.
"Always happy to assist," Moriko said into the stillness.
It jerked its head toward the smoke behind them. "You runnin' from the fire?"
"That's right."
"It's my kid's fault," the arboar said. "A cannibal came 'round and we killt it, an' the elder said leave it be. Ain't clean. My kid went back and ate it."
Moriko felt cold, thinking of Latna the caligryph and his human prey. But he'd been doing it wrong: a killer pokémon got stronger from eating other pokémon, not humans. So what would happen if you ate a killer? Would you get all that energy?
"What happened to her?" she asked.
"She evolved an' started burnin'. Real fire like an elder. Outta control. Gonna burn down the whole damn forest at this rate." It sighed. "She ain't the same. Reckon a trainer could help her out. Get some experience. Stop doin' damnfool things like eatin' cannibal souls."
"I… don't think we can go toward the fire," Moriko said.
Matt threw down his backpack and selected a handful of pokéballs, medicines—
"Matt—"
"Carry my bag for me," Matt said, not looking at them. "I'll meet you back at the rendezvous."
"Matt," Russ said, "are you seriously—"
"I'll be back," he said, lightly, but Maia burst out of her pokéball and fixed him with an orange glare. "It will be simple," he said, but there was something floating, detached, about his voice.
"Let's be sensible," Russ said. "We'll go with you. Technically we're getting ahead of the fire when we go after this pokémon. Right?"
"Ayup," the arboar agreed.
"We can't!" Moriko protested. "It's high-level, if it's actually setting fire to the forest!"
"It might just be temporary, from the evolution, from eating the ronin," Matt said. "I can do it."
Russ threw down a pokéball, and Matt stiffened, backing away.
"No!" Russ said, placating. "It's just—it's just Sylvia."
The borfang looked between the two of them and went over to Matt and Maia.
"Bring him back when you're done, Sylvia, and right away if he does something boneheaded."
Sylvia looked at Maia hopefully; Maia tilted her head, appraising, and then dipped her chin to the borfang. Sylvia rippled her long tail.
"Matt," Moriko said sharply. "Be smart. I'm not dying for you. Come back, alright?"
Matt smirked and gave her a sarcastic salute. Russ tossed him Sylvia's pokéball. In a moment, the borfang had leapt into the air and flown away over the treetops. Toward the smoke, against all sane advice.
"Good luck," said the arboar. "He's gonna need it." It disappeared into the brush again, deceptively quick for its bulk.
Moriko wiped sweat off her forehead, suddenly feeling like she couldn't be sure if that short conversation had been real. She looked at Russ. "Can we trust it? Maybe this is all a game to them, to lure in trainers."
Russ looked out over the trees, and he shrugged his thin shoulders uneasily. "I guess we'll find out. He has Sylvia, though. She'll keep him out of trouble."
It felt like unwarranted optimism, given how this journey had gone for them so far. "Let's get to the rangers," Moriko said. "He might need rescuing eventually. Are you sure that was a good idea, sending Sylvia off with him? With an ice-type?"
Russ looked uncomfortable. "I trust Matt," he said. "He's good people. I know you don't like him, but—"
Moriko put away all her objections. He couldn't see what was in front of his face, for some reason.
"Alright. I trust you," she said. She shook his shoulder gently. "We better go."
x.x.x.x.x
Sylvia flew west, alongside the strange, erratic path of the blaze. Smoke hung over it, black and gray, with licking flames in red and orange breaking through here and there. The color depended on what the fire was eating, had eaten. He'd read that somewhere.
Matthew Reyes was aware of many sensations as he clutched at the borfang, limbs crabbed and eyes closed. Wind in his hair. The stumps of Sylvia's trimmed dorsal spines pressing into his chest. The gently seesawing feeling when she broke her glide to beat her wings, air-type energy swirling over her, over him.
That ever-present feeling of failure. He saw Sam; he saw her pokémon; he saw his pokémon, the ones that had left, that had died.
Fuck. Fuck. Keep it together.
The fear was with him, as it always was. It didn't know he was slipping his leash.
If something could be fought and mastered, would it disappear?
He opened his eyes, turned his head to look down at the treetops, watched them approach and fall behind. The void called out to him, but he didn't relax his grip; the fear didn't redouble.
Maybe.
"Are we close?" he said, his words disappearing into the wind.
She got the sense of them. "Almost," said Sylvia. "There!"
Barely visible in the smoke and haze, and through the mask of the trees themselves, was a mass of flame. It ran with a frightening speed, dodging and weaving, changing direction randomly, barrelling through obstacles.
They had to get away from the smoke. He really would die if he tried to engage the svarog as it ran west, the wind pushing all those fumes and poisons towards him.
"Good girl. Keep following, we'll get it when it runs south. Fly a little lower."
The borfang complied, dipping one wing and shifting closer to the treetops. Far below, their quarry slammed into an ancient pine, ripping a chunk of the wood out in a shower of splinters and bark. Fire licked the wound, and spread through the dry needles on the forest floor.
x.x.x.x.x
Maia jumped heavily into a nearby spruce, claws scrabbling at the wood. Behind her, the tree she'd been in toppled, fire crawling up its length.
The svarog bellowed in rage and attacked her new perch, ignoring the jets of water that the tibyss sprayed down onto it.
The monster was an enormous boar, a dark shape wreathed in flame, with smoke pouring off of and obscuring its body.
Matt spritzed Bjorn with potion and burn heal, the angry, singed wounds closing and subsiding under the treatment.
His hands shook, the impulse to run as fast and as far as possible very strong. He kept a rein on himself, as best he could, but the fear was like an animal thrashing in his mind. He worked quickly; if the thing took notice of him, it would be the end of his control and probably his life.
He'd considered the idea that the arboar had led him into a trap. It was possible; not all wild pokémon cared for humans, and many had excellent reasons not to.
Their only reprieve was that the svarog didn't seem to be able to control and launch an attack with its flame, something that all fire types took time to learn. Its physical attacks were still formidable, its triple blackened tusks razor-sharp, and it was strong enough to rip at the trunks of trees like they were sugar.
"How's that? Better?"
The ursaring rose to his hind legs, flexed his forepaws. "Is good," he grunted.
"Good," Matt echoed. "You're up again. Do you remember how to earthquake?"
Bjorn's eyes glittered under a heavy brow ridge. "At last," he said, slouching off toward his opponent and Maia.
"Don't get used to it," Matt called after him.
The ursaring roared a challenge, followed by an ordinary-looking stomp as the boar pokémon turned to face him. A wave of dirt flew up from the forest floor, ground-type energy sluicing over the svarog.
There had been a time when it would have thrown up rocks, chunks of earth, broken the ground. Bjorn had lost a lot of levels between here and Johto.
The boar pokémon staggered, faltering, and Maia hit it with a hydro pump, the bolt of water hammering it to its belly.
Did it seem to rise more tiredly? Was it burning less intensely? Matt couldn't tell, couldn't see outside his own desire to please, please, please be gone from here.
Bjorn stomped again, sending another wave of energy toward the svarog, and then used feint attack to skate out of the way of its answering charge. It was absurdly fast for its bulk, catching the ursaring on the side with its tusks and slicing him like a razor. Bjorn groaned, the sound cut off as Matt recalled him.
Too slow, he thought. "Tak! You're up!" he said, throwing out a great ball.
The honchkrow immediately angled away from the svarog and the tree it was ramming. He circled instead of just fleeing wholesale, which was progress.
Tak cawed. "Hellfrost, boss, why aren'tcha running?"
Great question. "Gust, Tak, stay out of its reach. I only have so much burn heal."
"Wasted it on your bear!"
Tak flapped his wings, stirring up vortices that whirled after the svarog. The wind blew back its smoke, revealing more of its body briefly. It barely noticed the attacks; Matt was about to order another when it turned and fired off its vines to pull Tak out of the air.
The honchkrow shot up high, but he needn't have bothered: the appendages were limp and confused, swiping ineffectually. The svarog shook itself, staggering as it stepped forward a pace.
"You are hurting," Matt muttered. "Maia! Hydro pump!"
The tibyss charged up another water attack, and it punched onto the svarog, exploding in a gout of steam. It bellowed, enraged, its flaming skin flaring even higher, and it charged Maia's tree.
The trunk exploded into splinters; Matt curled away and grunted as a fragment hit him. When he looked again, Maia was in another tree, her claws rending the bark as she slid down.
The svarog was waiting; it reared up on the tree trunk, tusks slashing the bark and sending wood flying.
"Maia!"
Tak came to the rescue, his whirlwind sliding onto the svarog to trap it, and he launched into a pleased tirade about the boar pokémon's unlikely ancestry.
Maia leapt away, landing in a shower of debris and trotting toward Matt.
He pulled out his pokédex at last; Maia was hurt, but not unexpectedly so. The svarog's readout was covered in out-of-bounds cautions and true-combustion warnings. Of course. What were the odds that it would stay this powerful after he caught it? Slim, knowing his luck—or it would stay powerful, and stay insane. Well, he'd always been a damn fool.
Maia stood between him and the svarog. Tak kept up his gust attacks, but the boar pokémon's health was jumping around on the pokédex screen.
"Tak, try—"
The svarog began to advance, pushing through the whirlwind—no—it was dragging the whirlwind with it, the winds spiralling its fire and smoke up into the air in a tornado of flame.
Are you fucking kidding—"Icy wind, Maia, sorry to throw you back in again."
Maia laughed, and she called to the honchkrow to move out of the way. She breathed a stream of ice onto the svarog, icicles building up on it in moments and slowing it again. It groaned, somewhere in the whirl of flame, and flared again, shaking off the whirlwind.
"Tak—"
It exploded forward like a missile, barrelling straight for him. With a twitch of its head it had thrown Maia aside.
Matt couldn't move.
Dimly, he wondered where the fear was. Wasn't that your purpose, to keep me idle and safe? Endlessly it had whispered to him about the unexpected danger of ordinary things, had filled him with cold and sick dread. And when he actually was in peril, it had nothing for him.
I'm sorry, Maia, he thought.
Light filled his vision, and he wondered if he'd died already.
Time resumed, and the wind from a giant pair of dragon's wings knocked him to the ground. Sylvia leapt onto the svarog, her jaws clamping on its face, and she went rolling with it in a tumble of limbs.
They smashed ferns and ground cover, flames smoldering on the wet ground. Sylvia got to her feet first, seizing the svarog by the neck and tearing at it violently, burning ichor flying onto the ground and sizzling. Maia reappeared with a water gun attack, and Tak lashed his wings, air-type energy soaring in.
At last it lay still, and Matt remembered the ultra ball in his hand. He ignored the soon-motionless ball, his attention entirely for Maia slumping toward him, covered in blood, and for Sylvia, slashed and burned and unable to fly.