The End

32 - The Watch

32 – The Watch

Enigma had spent most of the night clambering through the treetops, not paying much attention to where he was going. He hadn't made much progress, making a wide circle around that large tree. He was distracted.

He hated being distracted.

When the sun reached its highest point, he stopped on the bough of a sturdy aspear tree looking out at the forest. It all looked the same. Green and brown and dull. His stomach growled and he painfully remembered that piece of meat Harlequin had given him, discarded on the cell floor. He tutted and looked up at the tree and its sparse aspear berries, then reached up and grabbed the nearest one. They were usually ridiculously sour and the juice from the over-ripe fruit trickled over his fur but he barely tasted it. Right now, it was more a necessity than an enjoyment.

Alone.

He had no reason to head back to the Shadow Lands. No reason to quickly finish his task.

But he wanted to find out what the Heretics were doing. He couldn't shake the curiosity that had aroused when he'd seen that tyranitar. The same curiosity that had followed him after he'd been the target of that crazed whimsicott's attack.

He had to forget about Harlequin. He had to go back to that lab. There was a chance Rio was still there, and he wanted answers.

He had to admit, he was fearing an all-out war. Whatever it was the Heretics were doing with that new type, news would reach Hydreigon sooner or later and he wouldn't be impressed. One way or another he'd end up involved in that war, be it fighting against Heretics and Outcasts or being one of the targets of Hydreigon's vicious attempt to wipe out anything that wasn't dark or dragon.

Right now, his survival was unpredictable.

He felt all strength leave his body and he flopped back against the trunk of the tree, staring up at the rust-coloured canopy. Dry leaves were slowly floating to the ground, removed from their place in the branches by a gentle, wintry breeze.

Why had things become so complicated?

...

"Any idea where we are?" Spark flopped forward on Cleo's shoulder, as glum as she sounded.

"No," answered Cleo. "Unfortunately, without the river to go by, I'm not entirely sure if we're even heading in the right direction any more."

They'd been walking since morning and from what they could see of the sun through the mottled canopy it had moved over them now, and would likely be setting soon. Even with the trees shedding their leaves, it wasn't easy to gauge direction from the sun either. So as to what direction they were heading in, they had no idea.

"I wouldn't be too disheartened," Faith told them. "Either way, we'll make it out of the forest eventually."

Spark glanced back at her. "Yes, but that may mean we end up miles away from the next town."

"I'd sooner be out of these trees," said Mischief. "I'm worried we'll end up running into those Heretics again."

"Then be prepared," Cleo told him. "We're not even sure how close to the lab we are."

"Do you think they'll even still be using it?" asked Spark.

Cleo shrugged. "Who knows? Either way, I doubt they'll have left the forest and moved on elsewhere."

Mischief made a thoughtful noise but said nothing. He shuffled along beside her, keeping a watchful eye on the passing shadows.

Harlequin had been oddly quiet. No arguments or snide remarks, not even a snarl when Cleo had ventured to ask her if there was anything wrong. What had struck her as very odd was that she'd willingly followed them from the cells without so much as a retort when Cleo had activated the collar again. No struggle, keeping a steady pace behind them as they moved on.