Chapter Seven - Holding On

When Salamence closed his eyes, he was back at the nursery, butting heads with the other bagon. When the humans came with warm milk, they pushed each other out of the way, struggling for a full mouthful. Salamence hadn't been the strongest of his siblings, nor the quickest. Some days he was full; other days he went hungry. He liked living, in a mild way. He liked the rich tang of the milk and the warmth of his siblings when, tired of fighting, they huddled together beneath an outcrop.

It all changed when she came. Even her footsteps sounded different: loud and firm. Footsteps that would not stop, no matter what was in their way.

"That's it?" she said, the disdain clear in her voice. "A lethargic lot."

"They're just having their nap now, Miss, but in an hour—"

There was a muffled, wet sound and a cry. He'd looked up to see one of the humans cringing, its hand held to its face.

"You'll address me as sir," the stranger said. "And I will not be kept waiting."

She strode forward until she was only a few feet from the sleeping bagon. Then she clapped her hands sharply together. The sound sent them scrambling to their feet.

"Listen up, you miserable lot," she said. "You're weak. You're pathetic. You spend your time lapping at what you're offered. Most pokemon live like you. Most people, too. But your genes destine you for something different, if you want it. Those hard heads can become a crown. And those stubby arms—wings."

He'd felt a thrill course through him as she spoke. Without noticing, he'd taken a step forward. The motion caught her gaze. She stared at him, and then crouched, so she was looking into his eyes.

"You want to be strong?" she asked. "Then you have to prove you already are." She thrust out her arm, which was wrapped in strange, metallic strips. "Bite me here, as hard as you can. And don't let go, even if it hurts. Do you understand?"

He did. He held on, even as his mouth began to tickle, and then ache. Even as horrible jolts of electricity raced suddenly through his trembling body. He'd held on, until at last she smiled, and ran one gloved finger from his head down his back.

"I like this one," she said. He'd taken those words, wrapped them up, and stored them carefully somewhere deep inside his heart.

~0~

Salamence woke abruptly.

I never let go, he thought, his mind completely clear for the first time since his injury. And I'm not going to start now.

He sat still for several minutes, taking stock of his body. There was still weakness in him. His bones were sore and his wings fragile. But he could walk now, up and down the peak without losing his breath.

The question was, could he fly?

"Melo took her to Viridian City," the thunder-rat had told him readily enough on that first day. "She's in police custody now. Don't know if they'll move her somewhere else."

He trusted the thunder-rat, on this at least. He was a joker, but not a liar. Viridian City was the human settlement closest to this mountain. His mistress had pointed it out as they passed over. A pointless town, she'd called it. A great man had lived there once, but he'd been defeated by a child.

It would not be a long flight. The trickiest part would be descending off the mountain. This high, the wind was strong and the alpine air freezing. And if he faltered, there was nowhere safe to land for many miles. If he had to come down in the snow, without sure shelter, he would freeze to death.

He would not be alive now if it were not for the protection these insulated caves offered and the food that the trainer Red had left behind. He had no allies to count on, either. The flamer had gone with the humans.

"Melo's offered to train me," the traitor had told him with wide eyes. "It's such an honor."

Loyalty brought honor. But Salamence had no words to waste on cowards.

As for the rest—he'd never trusted them, and he had been proven right. They had slunk off one by one in the night. Weavile liked this mountain, with its infernal snow. He'd spoken of making a home and disappeared soon afterwards. Drapion muttered something about finally finding a mate. Ariados had said nothing, but she'd left all the same.

"You should move on, too," Drapion had said. "It hasn't been a bad life—a bit brutal, sometimes. But take the chance. Start a family. Or find another trainer if that's what you want. We're strong. We have choices."

Choices? Salamence had picked his path a long time ago and he had never looked back.

The trainer came to see him before he left. Salamence had watched him closely, wondering if his honor demanded a last, fruitless attack. But with the pikachu there, it would have gained him nothing. So Salamence held himself still and listened to the human.

"You'll be flying soon," the human said quietly. "Until then, we've left berries. Then you can go where you want to go. But first . . . you might want to think about what you really want."

Salamence had made a sound deep in his throat, almost a growl.

The human huffed a laugh. "When I came up here I didn't know what I wanted. It's only now that I see. My whole life I chased after him . . . for once, I wanted him to come after me."

Katsu nudged Red. "Two years I've been waiting to hear you admit that."

Red laughed again, more substantial this time. He moved his hands over the ruff on pikachu's head in steady, practiced motions. "Thanks for waiting."

Katsu sniffed. "What can I say? Sometimes you're worth it."

The thunder-rat lingered after the human left. "Mountain peaks are funny," he said cheerily. "If you look hard enough, you can see your whole life down there. And it makes you think, doesn't it? About whether you want to go back."

"I don't think that," Salamence had growled.

"Well, you don't think much, do you?" the pikachu answered with a smirk.

Insolent rodent. But he was loyal. Salamence could at least respect that.

The peak was deserted when Salamence stepped out. The late afternoon sun felt lovely and welcoming on his back. He paused, letting his eyes slide shut. Nothing but rest these past days and yet he still felt tired.

No. He had to focus. He had to marshal his strength one last time. Every moment increased the odds that his mistress would be lost to him for good.

Salamence gave his wings an experimental flap. When a warm updraft hit, he took off. It was glorious to fly again, though his wings were screaming. He completed a low lap around the peak and then crashed onto the snow, panting heavily. Nothing seemed to have re-fractured, but it was many minutes before Salamence could drag himself back into the caves where the berries were kept. He gulped then down quickly, the food bringing new energy into his body.

He completed two more laps before he had to face reality. If he tried to leave the mountain today, he would not survive the flight.

Frustration roiled through him, biting and sour. His wings were spent, but he still felt restless. Instead of turning back into the cave for another bout of troubled sleep, he picked his way slowly down the mountain side. His feet led him down the route he'd traced before in the company of the pikachu, into the devastated patch of forest. He stepped between the overturned trees, until he again stood at the mouth of the tyranitar's cave.

The tyranitar troubled him. It was clear he was a strong fighter, a pokemon of honor. It wasn't right for him to imagine that his children had met with a terrible fate. Salamence had to try again, explain about the training compound, the practice matches, that the food was not always given readily, but was given to those who showed strength.

"Hello?" he called out.

Too late, he realized he had come with no offering. The thunder-rat had brought berries at least.

There was no answer.

Salamence hesitated and then stepped inside the cavern. The dank, moldered smell of stagnant air rose to greet him. It did not smell like a cave where a pokemon lived.

His heart began to pound. He stood halted before the dark mouth of the cavern, unable to take a step forward. Reversing himself, he backed out and up the mountain, until he was huddled safely in the warmth of the human's cave.

I will rest tonight, Salamence told himself. And spoke aloud, like a promise, "Tomorrow I will be strong enough to make the flight."

~0~

He awoke the next morning filled with purpose. It was another clear day. The morning made the snow into slush under his feet as he padded out onto the peak. He caught an updraft and rode it, letting the wind bolster him up, and landed smoothly when the white flatness of the peak came into sight again.

It was time. Though his stomach didn't ache, he made himself swallow three berries. Then he planted himself at the tip of the peak and waited for a strong gust of wind. He rose, wings held at his side, riding the wind until it faltered. Just as he began to lose altitude, he spread his wings and pushed off. The mountain that had defeated his mistress lay stretched out before him, miles of sharp trees and icy currents. He pushed on, grateful for the wind at his back, though the air chilled him through and through.

The scars of the tyranitar's grief were even more visible from the air. His stomach tightened and he beat his wings harder than necessary, wishing to pass over the area quickly.

Even though the weather was in his favor, Salamence felt himself tiring rapidly. His breath was short and with each flap his wings seemed to gain weight. Then the image of his mistress, stolen away by grasping vines, rose in his mind. The anger that burned through him at the memory spurred him on, until at last the trees came to an end and he could see the lower lying rocks that they had encountered on their first ascent.

Salamence caught sight of the red roof of a pokemon shelter and almost paused. Such shelters were warm and packed with food more nourishing than alpine berries. But there was no knowing what he would encounter inside. Better to find his own shelter.

In the end, he landed on a rocky outstretch pocketed with holes. Finding one just big enough to hold him, he curled up inside. Down here, the air was warmer, but the hard rock offered no comfort. Still, he sunk easily into sleep, exhausted by the day's exertion and lightened by relief. He had escaped the mountain. From here, everything was possible.

~0~

Waking brought new pain. The ache, before confined to his wings, had spread into every part of his body, making movement almost unbearable. Chill had crept into his bones during the night and he shivered, even though the sun was beating warmly down.

It took him an hour of sun-soaking before the shivers ceased. His head felt bleary and his body still screamed for rest. But there could be no rest for him, not yet.

No, not yet.

Another hour of limping flight brought him into a human settlement. Viridian, unless he'd completely lost his bearings. He recognized the silver fist of the police station. The mistress had cursed at the symbol often enough.

Salamence made a heavy landing and stared up at the building, at a loss. Was his mistress really trapped in this small place? Even with the little strength he had now, Salamence thought he could burst it open like an overripe fruit.

But perhaps it would be better to be sure. He didn't have enough strength to spend it needlessly. Salamence stepped closer to the entrance way, which moved aside for him. The humans inside scented of surprise, but not fright.

"Is this the new normal now?" one said with a sigh. "At least this one doesn't seem to be carrying any international criminals."

Criminal. Salamence's ears perked up at the word. Poacher, thief, criminal. These were all titles his mistress had earned. He set off down the corridor, ignoring the humans scrambling behind him.

But all the rooms were empty. A mournful whine left his throat. Room upon room, but no trace of his mistress. He tramped back down the corridor into the room of humans. As he moved towards the exit, an object caught his eye. A pair of gloves, bright purple, lay carelessly on one of the desks. They belonged to his mistress.

Salamence roared, snatching the pieces of cloth in his mouth. So she had been here. And if she was gone, Salamence knew who could find her now.

Gripping the gloves tight in his mouth, he willed his exhausted muscles once more into flight.

~0~

"Hey now, if it isn't my favorite meat-head!" Savanta met him at the edge of the compound with a cheerful bark. The arcanine craned her head around. "Where's your crazy human?"

"You will not speak of her that way!"

Salamence flashed the bright red of his wings in warning, but Savanta just laughed. "Cool it, cool it. You know my mouth's faster than my feet and that's saying something. But what gives? Normally you stick to that lady's side like caterpie goo."

Salamence sucked in a breath. "My mistress has been captured. I need your help to find her."

"Wow." Savanta let out a soft growl. "They got the great Hunter J? How'd you let that happen?"

"I was weak," Salamence said heavily, the weight of his shame pressing back down on him.

Savanta studied him through narrowed eyes. "Yeah . . . you don't look so well. Let's talk business, later, huh? There's plenty of room in my kennel and some good leftovers to gnaw on."

"I don't have time for that. The scent must be growing cold as we speak."

"State you're in, I doubt you'd be much help even if we did find your mistress. So give your wings a rest and let me help you."

Salamence allowed himself to be led to Savanta's kennel. It was snug and warm, wide enough to accommodate both of them comfortably. The slops Savanta brought were considerably more to Salamence's taste than the mountain berries had been, and he dug in hungrily.

When he was finished, he told Savanta what had happened on the mountain. His defeat. His mistress' capture. He pressed the gloves under her nose.

Savanta took a long drag. "Yep, that's Hunter J all right. But look, if she's been transferred away from the local people, that means a van if we're lucky and a helicopter if we're not. My nose isn't a psychic tracer, you know."

Salamence's heart sank. "You can't help me?"

"Happy to take a sniff round, but honestly, I doubt it. You'd do better to hit up that old alakazam. The one that lives by Cerulean. She might be able to track her for you, though I gotta warn you, that gal's a mean customer."

"I'm in your debt, Savanta," Salamence said. He got quickly to his feet. Savanta rose as well, alarm sparking in her eyes.

"Here now, where are you going? Don't tell me you're feeling well."

"I'm well enough to make another journey."

"But you don't know where you're going, and without me telling you, you never will, either. So sit yourself back down. Tonight you'll rest and if you still want to go in the morning, I'll tell you what you need to know."

Salamence wanted to flame and threaten, but he knew Savanta's casual manner belied a will of steel. She wouldn't budge even if he blustered. Reluctantly, he lay back down, letting the warmth of the kennel wrap over him.

Something nagged at him. "What do you mean, if I still want to go?"

"Well . . ." Savanta licked at her paws for a bit. "It's just . . . you've done everything that could be expected of you. And for a trainer like that—"

"A trainer like what," Salamence demanded, tensing.

Savanta looked uncomfortable. "I just mean, let's say the situation was reversed, okay? Let's say it was you that got carried off somewhere. Would Hunter J be chasing after you?"

"Of course." Salamence didn't hesitate with his answer. "I'm her best mount, her strongest fighter."

Savanta's ears twitched. "Right, but let's say Hunter J would be able to find another salamence, just as strong as you, maybe stronger. You think she'd come after you then?"

Salamance said nothing.

Savanta let out a sharp bark. "That's what I thought. Now, my human? She would. That's the difference, there. That's what partnership means—I'm not replaceable."

Salamence's breath rattled loudly in the silence. "So you won't help me?" he said tightly.

"Didn't say that. Never said that. Just want to be sure you know what you're signing back up for."

After that, conversation seemed impossible, and Salamence had neither the desire nor energy to speak. He fell into uneasy sleep, in which he wandered through a dark, foul-smelling cave. Savanta's words chased him through the darkness.

Replaceable.

It wasn't true. She'd chosen him, over all the others, even though he hadn't been the strongest. When he found her, she'd choose him again.

~0~

Cut through the forest until you see the human city. Pass it and then veer to the left. The landscape will become rocky. Fly until you find a place where the ground is level, but five stones rise in a circle, set equidistant from each other. That's where you'll find Sheb-Gadal.

When Salamence sighted the ring of stones, he cut down and landed in the middle. The rock beneath his feet was strangely smooth, almost slippery. If it had been slant, Salamence would have struggled to keep his footing.

He craned his head this way and that, but there was nothing in sight except the tall, strangely shaped stones and the overcast white sky.

"Hello?" he called out hoarsely. The rocks swallowed the sound.

The alakazam must be out. Foraging, maybe. Salamence didn't know how the mind-benders made their diets. Dreams, he'd heard once. The mind-benders liked to eat dreams. A shiver passed down Salamence's spine at the thought.

He kept vigil by the rocks until the sky began to pinken. Drowsiness was creeping up on him, but he was reluctant to fall into sleep. The mind-benders like to eat dreams.

Unless—the thought made Salamence stiffen. Unless that was the bargain. What had Savanta said?

She'll want something from you, for her help.

Salamence settled himself back down on the smooth bed of rock. He'd given his sweat for his mistress, his blood, his pain. Dreams were nothing. He jammed his eyes shut and tried to slow his breathing to a soothing tempo. Gradually, he slipped into sleep.

He stood on the peak of a hill, the highest point in the training compound.

"Your final test," she said, the wind blowing back her trench coat. "Show me you won't falter."

The metal encasing his wings made them hard to raise, but he raised them, letting out a proud cry. He fell into the air and beat hard. For a brief moment, he only felt the terrible weight. I'll fall. I'll fail. But with another beat of his wings, he was rising.

Then came the pain, sparking through his wings, enfeebling him. Salamence set his jaw and continued to move—his target was in sight now. All he had to do was reach it. Adrenaline surged through his body, holding back the pain. He gathered energy in his belly and expelled it in a single hot beam as he drew closer, blasting the target to nothing. Then he was banking down, onto the solid, grassy ground.

He was still catching his breath when the mistress landed besides him.

"Good," she said. "Very good."

After she'd left, her servants had removed the metal casing, soaked his wings in warm water until it didn't ache to move them. But she—this time she wasn't leaving. The mistress bent down at his side and pulled off the horrible strips of metal. She led him into the soak room and ran a warm cloth over his body.

"My loyal mount, my strongest fighter. There is no pokemon I'd choose over you."

Salamence luxuriated in the warm water, her praise. If this never ends, if this could be eternity, that's all I need—this bliss.

Cold.

The water was cold. Steam still hung in the air of the soak room, but it had turned a blackish-purple. It wrapped around the mistress, obscuring her from view.

No!

Salamence tried to get to his feet, but none of his muscles obeyed him. The purple steam crept closer, forcing itself into his mouth, down his lungs. He was choking. He—

He woke to rasping laughter. It was dark, the dark gray of early morning, and cool. A crescent moon still cast wisps of pale silver light. Salamence caught sight of a figure standing by the base of one of the stones.

"Sheb-Gadal," Salamence spat. The attack built in his stomach before he could think. His mouth opened, to expel the energy—

"No," said Sheb-Gadal.

Salamence's mouth snapped shut. Inside, the unspilled energy simmered and then dispersed, leaving a nasty burn in his belly.

Sheb-Gadal moved closer, her expression unreadable. Her whiskers brushed the ground. "Are you in control of yourself now?"

Salamence tried to nod, but his neck would not move. Still, the sentiment must have gotten through, because the hold lessened and he was able to open his mouth.

"You ate my dream."

"Yes."

"I need your help."

When she spoke, the alakazam sounded bored. "What else would bring you to this place, angry dragon?"

Salamence drew in a breath. This wasn't the time for bluster or flames. He'd entered this mind-bender's place of power and was at her mercy now. "My trainer has been taken from me. I need your help to find her."

"Your trainer? The human with gray-purple hair and angry eyes?"

That sounded like his mistress. Salamence nodded.

"I could know her—yes, I could trace her from that lopsided thing you call a bond. But why should I help you?"

Salamence's eyes went wide with indignation. "You ate my dream!"

"It didn't make much of a meal," the alakazam scoffed. "For a mighty master of the air, you don't set your sights very high."

Salamence felt his hackles rise. "What do you know?" he cried out. All the exhaustion and desperation of the past week seemed to bear down on him at once. "Nasty dream-eater, all alone with your stones, what do you know of love?"

A cracked, horrible sound rose from Sheb-Gadal.

Laughter, Salamence realized.

"Love?" she wheezed. "You call that love? I wonder what your mistress would call it?

Salamence opened his mouth, but it was impossible to make sound. The air was pulling away from him, there was nothing to breathe. He buckled under the wave of blackness, feeling weak as a kit, weightless. The world seemed to have gone away, leaving nothing, like he was suffocating in a dark cave, all alone . . .

With a rushing sound, reality returned.

Salamence sucked in greedy breaths of air, opened his eyes—

—and stared into the cold, iron face of a prison door.