^ "Damn, She's Big" (6-8-19)

—

???

The chains had weakened him, burned so strongly that they'd left marks and depressions in his flesh.

All the same, he was pretty certain that he'd left them far behind — he'd glanced over his shoulder constantly over the past half hour, and hadn't seen or heard any signs of pursuit.

Perhaps that didn't matter though — they had his family, and so the man with the ice had a way of finding him. But it would take a while to figure that out, or so he hoped. The man with the ice was shrewd and cruel, and he himself felt even more cruel for leaving his kin behind in his clutches.

No choice. He was weak, injured by the chains, and he was bleeding too — had he turned to put up a fight, he would've been recaptured, maybe even killed. His mother had told him this before he'd escaped, yet he could not shake the anguish and the guilt that battled for dominance in his gut. Combined with the pain racking his body, he thought he might be sick.

He sailed blindly onward, slowing when a stretch of colorful ocean floor caught his eye: a reef, rife with Pokémon, with seaweed growing along the edges. It could be a good place to hide — after such a long swim, he was desperate for rest, and food. Shielding himself, he went down.

There were lots of rocks here, and as he tiredly inspected the terrain, he found an empty hollow beneath several giant clusters of coral, masked by a curtain of luscious seaweed. He went down, and a Krabby popped out of the sand, sensing the vibrations and peering around. He unshielded for a moment and glared at the Pokémon, and it quickly scuttled off. He went to ground, crawling the rest of the way into the hollow before collapsing fully. He barely had the mind to tear off a couple of stalks of seaweed and gulp them down before a black tide rolled across his mind, sweeping him toward unconsciousness. For a moment he struggled against it.

Plan. I need to think of what to do next. How do I help—

But the black wave was too strong, and quickly, he passed out.

***

NERO

Tuesday, April 3, 2018

"Jude," I said lowly. "Up."

I tapped his arm and knew that he was awake — his sweeping tail was proof enough of that — but he ignored me and remained motionless, pretending to sleep. I went over to our things — a bookbag that Cora had salvaged somewhere for me, the small, the handmade satchel for Jude — and did one last check, making sure everything was packed and tucked in, before I came back over and tried again.

"Jude," I said, "quit sniveling. Let's go."

Again he ignored me, and when I grabbed his arm and yanked him up into a sitting position, he stared away from me, acting like a stubborn, petulant merboy doll. Which was fine, if that was how he wanted to play it. At least he wasn't fighting... Though that perturbed a small part of me.

I got him off the bed and set his satchel over one shoulder. Then I glared at him — it really was like working with a mannequin. "Are you going to be like this the whole way?" I asked.

He didn't respond, his eyes dark.

Damned brat. Whatever. He wasn't going to guilt me into staying — he'd tried that yesterday after I'd returned with Magdalene, and it hadn't worked, probably because my last conversation with Cora had filled the space that elation at Mag's return had left behind.

If Kuma really is the wind one... There needs to be an ocean between her and us by the time Titus gets here. And he would arrive in Hoenn waters eventually. The merman was nothing if not methodical.

Grabbing Jude's hand, I pushed open the door to our Manor cabin, and we slunk out into the shadowy hall. It was very early — barely dawn at the surface, which turned the outside waters the barest hint of blue-silver. Nothing was out and about, not even the village's Pokémon — everyone and everything was in the crook or cranny where they laid their heads at night. Good, I didn't want to belabor this — when everyone woke up, I simply wanted to be gone, with no memories of tears or sad faces to needle me with guilt.

Faces other than Jude's, right?

My jaw tightened. Right.

I found an open window, and we went outside, into a sea that seemed much louder and gloomier without the merfolk of Delphirius out running around. Or so I thought — as we ascended the slope towards the kelp forest, I spotted movement up ahead and froze, alarm flashing through me.

But it was only Cora, milling around the base of the forest. Her face was pale, and she looked very tired, like she'd stayed up all night. My shoulders drooped. She did, didn't she?

"What are you doing up so early?" I asked as we came forward.

"Waitin' for you to try and sneak out, o' course." I stiffened. I hadn't noticed Kuma hovering in the kelp's waving shadows, and now she emerged into the murky light like a wraith in a long white dress. My eyes flashed to Cora, and my lips drew back: Did she tell her about—?

"Granny figured you'd try to go quick as to escape any fanfare," Cora said apologetically.

I switched my scowl to Kuma to hide my relief. "You know me so well."

"Would that were true." Kuma returned my scowl, her arms crossed. "Where are ye goin', that ye must leave in such a hurry, boy? And to what purpose?"

"Sorry, that's my business."

"Is it? Yer fleein' as though the hounds of hell be nippin' at yer fluke. Is it somethin' Delphirius should be concerned about?"

My teeth hammered together. I had no perfect answer for that. "It's just...time to move on."

"Then what's yer hurry?"

"No hurry. We just want to go."

" 'We'?" Kuma's eyes went to where Jude hovered behind me, staring out blankly over the black seascape. "What's the whelp think of this?"

"Jude doesn't call the shots," I snapped, very aware that I was contradicting my previous statement. "I do."

Kuma scrutinized me. Cora floated behind her, looking sad, and I tried not to meet her gaze. Already, I could feel guilt welling in the bottom of my gut, eroding away at a dam I'd built up inside, and I felt that if I looked into her eyes, what I saw there might put another crack in my defenses.

Finally, Kuma let out a breath. "Can't convince ye ta stay, can I?"

"I assume you don't generally let strange merfolk bed down in your waters anyway," I said. "Else you wouldn't have the sentries. This is just me seeing myself out."

"Strange merfolk?" Kuma shook her head. "The sentries be for hungry, wayward Pokémon, boy — we don't turn away travelin' mer, strange or no. And do ye honestly think we still be on the ridge about ye? Yer certainly no stranger — not a friend, not quite, but ya certainly ain't an enemy, and I was hopin' we could get to know ya a bit more... Find ya a cave ta call home, maybe have ya work in the mines, somethin' along that line, but... Maybe I was mistaken. Maybe it be you who ain't interested in knowin' us."

Ouch. That...hurt, more than I expected. "I guess that's that, then." I tightened my grip on Jude. "We need to go."

Wordlessly, Kuma swept aside, but before I could pass, Cora said, "Wait! Can we not accompany him to the ridge, Granny? I've not yet seen Magdalene, and I'd say hello."

"Hmph." Kuma looked less than enthused about the idea, but she arched a brow at me. "She don't bite, do she?"

"Not without good reason." I'd tried to assure the sentries of this when Mag and I had returned to the village yesterday afternoon, but they'd had none of it. Neither had the wizened, long-faced Yedadiah — he'd been summoned after Mag's huge shadow had been spotted coming down the seamount, and after arriving where Aaron and his sentries had stalled us at the kelp forest, the high-strung Elder had said in no unclear terms that Magdalene was not to approach or enter the village under any circumstances, or Aaron and the sentries would be authorized to use deadly force to run her off.

The watchmen certainly hadn't looked as confident as Yedadiah had, in their ill-fitting armor and makeshift weapons, but though that was a fight I was interested in seeing, I'd sent Mag off to find a place beyond the ridge to retire for the night, until Jude and I came looking for her the next morning.

Wherever that place was, it wasn't far from the Delphiri Seamount — after we left the kelp behind and pushed into open water, I hadn't even taken a breath for a long-call when she came out of the dark like a damaged ship, her teeth and gums riddled with the remnants of her last meal — Octillery, it looked like, one she'd bitten and swallowed whole.

Behind me, Cora and Kuma both stopped like they'd hit a wall, and a shocked mewl came out of one of them — Cora, I think. I couldn't blame her — in the blackness, Mag looked much bigger than she actually was, as large and expansive as the actual night.

"Is this...?" Kuma's voice was low and raspy — it was the first time I'd ever heard her frightened.

"Yeah." The Sharpedo came out to greet me, nudging my back with her nose, and I drew my hand along her side. That didn't convince them to come any closer, though — the two mermaids hung way back, Cora behind Kuma, and it occurred to me that that was so Kuma could sweep Mag away like those boats so long ago if things got dicey. A weird part of me sort of wanted to see that.

I said, "It's fine. Watch." I stuck my scarred arm into Mag's mouth for a long moment, and then took it back out; she gave me a dirty look. "She prefers water-types to mermaid flesh anyway."

I patted Mag's side, and she drifted forward to investigate the two mermaids, moving around them in a slow circle. Cora screeched when the Sharpedo's fin brushed against her back, and Kuma's face became dead white when Mag hovered before her, studying the elderly mermaid with her bright red eye. I noticed that her hands were held loosely at her sides, and that the ocean seemed to be stirring restlessly around them. The sight made my breath catch — it was one thing to hear a recollection of it from Cora. It was another thing entirely to be on the verge of actually seeing it.

"I fear she does not approve of us," Kuma said thinly.

"Try rubbing her nose," I suggested.

Kuma shot me an incredulous, slightly horrified look, but after a fortifying moment lifted a shaking hand. She didn't rub but sort of tapped tapped Mag's tank of a snout, as if preparing to quickly snatch it away. It had the same effect, though — Mag's eyes rolled back a little, and she pushed against Kuma's hand, a very clear bid for her to continue. Kuma did, wearing a baffled look that turned to awe when Mag capitulated like a Growlithe getting its belly rubbed. Tentatively, Cora reached out, touching a cavernous scar running down Mag's side.

"She's so big," the mermaid gasped. "I've laid eyes on many a Sharpedo, but... 'Tis an odd thing, isn't it?"

I shrugged; I'd speculated on Mag's abnormal size before, but it had never seemed that important. The Sharpedo finished getting her nose rubbed and gave the two mermaids one last unreadable look before returning to my side. The two didn't seem as skittish about coming closer now, and the amazement drained from Kuma's face as she stopped before me.

"Where will you go?" she asked.

Anywhere but here. "Northeast," I said.

The old mermaid nodded. "Good. Be other communities northeast — hug the coastline, and ye will hit Silin. Travel a bit farther afield, and there be Triteloch, Brira, Coralora. All got connections with local Seawatchers too, or so I'm told."

"But ye will return if ye run into trouble?" Cora asked fretfully.

"Sure," I said, ambiguously. I glanced back at Mag. "We should go."

Kuma hesitated, then laid a hand on my shoulder. "It was good to know ye, son," she said. "Safe travels."

Cora stayed where she was, still looking a little upset, and guilt gnawed at my dam again. "Goodbye, Cora," I said.

"Goodbye, Nero. Be safe."

With that, I turned and lifted Jude onto Mag, glaring at him until he wrapped his arms loosely around her dorsal fin. The Sharpedo turned, trailing him and his long tail behind her like a flag, and I followed her off into the gloom, leaving familiarity and the easy life behind.

***

Sunrise found us toeing the line between the coast and open ocean — when we surfaced, I was able to clearly see the mainland, but beneath the waves there was simply sand, rock, the occasional ravine, and little else — like humans, most water-type Pokémon were still asleep at this hour, and if not for the subtle undulations in the terrain, I would likened our swim to traveling through the emptiness of outer space.

Which didn't bother me... Or so I tried to tell myself. I'd spent a good majority of the past two years traveling through an underwater wasteland, away from Titus, so I should have been used to it. But this time something was different...

The silence. It was too quiet, in a way that was more bad than good. Two hours into our swim, and I glanced back at Jude. He was digging his fingers into Magdalene's dorsal fin, as he had been the last time I'd checked, and he was still upset. But now, instead of lifeless, his eyes were stormy, and he stared straight ahead with a quiet fury. He seemed to have no interest in taking in our surroundings, which he normally couldn't help but do whenever we traveled somewhere new. It was a bad sign.

He'll get over it. I didn't feel sure of this, though. Should I say something? Later, I decided — right now, I just wanted to keep going, make a moving target out of ourselves, which were harder to hit, and harder to catch — or so I hoped.

We traveled through the strengthening dawn, and into midmorning. Every half hour, I surfaced, checking our progress against the presence of the mainland. Though I was no stranger to traveling through open ocean, staying relatively close to the coastline or land in general had its advantages — very dangerous water-types, like Gyaradoses and Sharpedos, tended to stay away from areas frequented by humans and cars and planes, and especially their large boats. Precisely because of that, water-types at the lower end of the food chain often formed communities in brighter, shallower waters, which would make for easier hunting on our part.

And speaking of hunting... It was pushing into noon when my stomach first started growling. I hadn't bothered asking Kuma or Hattice or Augo for food, as that would've meant making our intentions to leave as soon as possible public, so starting today we would be finding our own meal the hard way. We were close to the coast, but not close enough for algae or — Arceus-forbid — kelp, so as we continued on, I kept my eyes open for edible water-types. Thanks to Mag, most that we'd seen so far had kept their distance, but as we crested a squat seamount, I spotted movement in the distance.

It was a Gorebyss, it's long, lithe body poking down in a crevice between two half-buried stones for its own prey — as I watched, it went in down to its ventral fins, its tail thrashing as it worked to secure its prey. Quickly, I considered — normally Jude and I ate Magikarps and Feebases, and the occasional Finneon, but we hadn't seen any of those types for several miles and might not for many more. Gorebysses were generally tough to get down, more muscle and fiber than fat, but so long as it sat in our stomachs and smothered our hunger, it would do.

"Mag," I said softly, pointing to the foraging Pokémon, "hungry?"

The Sharpedo sidled up behind me, studied the Gorebyss, and went left. I kicked, pushing myself in the other direction, and as I came around in a wide circle, I took a moment to appreciate that I didn't have to say anything more — we'd hunted like this so many times that we had the routine down to a science at this point.

I kicked again, hard, and then drifted the rest of the way to the Gorebyss, who was still burrowing furiously. In the corner of my eye, I watched Magdalene make a loop from the other side, as silent and self-assured as a thief in the night. There was no seaweed or kelp or rocks to hide behind, but that alright — the Gorebyss was too concerned with its own hunt to notice my Sharpedo approaching from behind. I frowned suddenly, wondering if the flanking maneuver was even necessary. Maybe Mag could just come up and—

With a burst of silt, the Gorebyss abruptly emerged from the sand, a kicking Corphish impaled on the sword-like appendage emerging from its snout. It spotted me and jittered up from the seabed, its black eyes wide, a breath away from bolting into the blue.

I surged forward with a hard kick, releasing a wordless scream in high Pitch at the same time. The Gorebyss blasted away like a needle...right into Mag's waiting mouth. Maybe if the Gorebyss had been fast enough, it could have reversed course and fled, but knocking into Mag's upper palate stunned it like a collision with a rock wall, and the Sharpedo's jaw came down like a guillotine.

Just like that, the Gorebyss was in two pieces, cracked open like an egg with a storm of red yolk rising towards the surface in a rushing flurry.

"Nice work!" I said as I swam over. I was grinning — the nostalgia left me feeling a little high. "Looks like being cooped up in that damned Pokéball didn't put you out of shape. Have half for your trouble."

She gave me a look of exasperation and devoured the top half of the Gorebyss in one bite, but I had the restraint to wait a few moments and let the ocean drain the other piece of its bodily fluids — I didn't generally eat bloody meat unless I was desperate. I also didn't eat it raw, which was ironic because I was probably the only merman on the planet that could actually do something about that.

"Jude," I said, peeling off a glove, "do you want yours baked?"

He said nothing — throughout the entire encounter he'd remained on Magdalene's back, his tail woven tightly around her dorsal fin. Now he stared out into a blue oblivion, and gave no response save for the end of his tailfin, which swept restlessly. Angrily.

The look made my grin drain away, to be replaced by a scowl of pure frustration. Enough already, I wanted to snap, but didn't. I'd thought his friendship with Neko and the rest of the Delphirius merkids had been...young and shallow, at best, but maybe not. It could be that I'd torn him away from something healthy and worthwhile, and didn't he deserve some time to grieve over that?

Not for long, I thought. He couldn't pay attention to what — or who — might be coming toward him if all he did was look sullenly behind him.

***

Our long swim filled most of the rest of the day. In the early afternoon we passed through a small cluster of islands, and then a great stretch of barren, empty ocean, uninterrupted save for a minute trench that appeared in the sand like a rocky-lipped smile. It was here that we spent the night — the distance appeared to be nothing more than a watery, sandy void, and I'd be damned if we got stuck out in the middle of open ocean after dark.

The ravine was only small enough for the likes of me and Jude, but that was fine — after we packed it in, Mag came down on top of us, filling the opening of the trench like a giant, sharkskinned wedge, and stayed that way for the duration of the night. The bottom of the ravine was filled with silt and dead kelp and sharp stones, and I cleared a space away for me and Jude to lie comfortably before offering him a chunk of Gorebyss meat. I'd consumed some for lunch, but had skinned, cut, and packaged the rest away for later.

And I hadn't boiled it — maybe that was why Jude ignored me when I offered him a piece of the clean but raw meat. Right.

"Jude," I prompted when he remained silent. "Eat. Your stomach's talking more than you are."

No response, save for his tail — it was piled beneath him in a loopy spiral, and the tip was still doing that peeved, twitching thing. After several tries, I gave up, putting the meat into my own mouth and trying not to taste it and think about the cooked sausage and ham from the Sea House cafeteria. Let him be stubborn, I thought. He'll be too hungry to ignore it for long.

Then I fell asleep before I could remember that I'd wanted to talk to him... About this.

When I woke up the next morning, the small cloth where I'd stored the Gorebyss meat still had ten slabs left — the same amount there'd been before I'd fallen asleep. I consumed half of one while Magdalene went off to find something a little bigger to break her fast. Jude said and did nothing when I pushed the other half towards him, but I didn't miss the agonized lines beneath his eyes and bracketing his mouth — his appetite would not support his obstinacy for long.

I decided not to push it. It would be a waste of time and energy, so I just grabbed his hand and we set off. Mag appeared and came towards us a quarter of an hour later, wisps of blood trailing from her mouth. And something else — tentacles. I shuddered. I couldn't imagine eating a Tentacool for any reason.

Jude got on Mag's back, and we picked up the pace, swimming into an oceanic oblivion, which didn't change much throughout the day: once a cluster of rocky forms rose out of the sand, and another time a Gyarados appeared on the horizon, ambling about. Luckily, it was going after a school of Luvdiscs, and we went by without incident.

Towards midafternoon, Mag began eyeing our surroundings with obvious hunger. It was about that time for me as well — my stomach voiced its plight loudly when a Seaking appeared over the lip of a small hill, floating along lazily on its elaborate fins. It froze when it saw Magdalene, and then bolted. Mag tore after it, so abruptly that Jude belted out a shocked screech and held on for dear life.

"Mag!" I shouted, but they'd disappeared up and over the hill on stream of bubbles. Cursing, I fought my way out of her wake and got up after them. The old girl's stomach had only gotten deeper as she'd gotten older, and her hunger could turn her into a demented beast. Arceus, I hope that didn't break Jude's ne—

A high, wordless scream came from up ahead.

Was that Jude? The rest of my thoughts were lost as I blasted from the seafloor, flashing over and down the hill. "Jude!" I shouted.

Then confusion — I wasn't sure of what I'd just rushed into, but there was a lot of movement, and I slowed, trying to make sense of it. A few yards away, Jude was lying atop a pile of junk — old chairs, torn water bottles, broken pieces of wood, plastic bins — rubbing his head, looking nauseous. Right below him on the slope were Magdalene and the Seaking, wrestling furiously in another pile of trash that looked like a collection of cardboard boxes, tires, discarded fans, a half-buried computer, and more. Much more — the garbage extended a good ways beyond them, a small field of it, going down one hill and up the other. A veritable dumping ground.

It was that other hill where the scream had come from — another one went up, and I spotted several shapes moving in the distance, fleeing with a terrified ferocity. Merfolk! They disappeared over the slope before I could get a good look at them, but they must've been out here scavenging, only to make wake when Mag had appeared. I tried to imagine the sight, Mag's bulk cresting the hill, and couldn't blame them.

I hurried down to Jude, who still looked ill. "All right?" I asked, helping him sit up.

He rubbed at his good eye with the back of his hand. "Sick," he groaned.

He speaks! That was progress. "Will you have some air?" I asked, taking his hand.

Below us, the Seaking suddenly let out an anguished scream; Mag had finally gotten her jaws around it, and was pressing down hard. My thoughts abruptly flashed to Uncle the Dragonair and the other Pokémon from Delphirius who kept an eye out for humans and other dangers, and swore. "Mag—"

Too late. The Seaking went limp, and a cloud of blood went up, staining the water orange.

Damn. I watched her consume her kill in several giant bites, and felt guilt well up in my throat. Maybe I was wrong — it was perfectly possible that the Seaking hadn't belonged to any of those merfolk, and had been a wild one wandering around, looking for prey or shelter.

I tried not to think about it as I led Jude to the surface, where he took several shaky breaths of salty air. "Better?" I asked.

He didn't respond, but color was rapidly returning to his face, so I took that as a yes. After a few more deep breaths, I unwrapped the Gorebyss meat and offered him a small helping. Very reluctantly he took it and glared at me, with such venom that for a moment I was sure that he was going to chuck it towards the horizon. But he spun around, pulled down his mask, tore off a piece, and choked it down.

I tried not to sag in relief. Is he coming around? My thoughts went back to the scavenging merfolk. Probably he would cheer up even more if he spent a couple of hours among his own kind again...

I shook my head. Not worth it. One village of seafolk knowing us by sight was enough — I didn't need the whole of the Hoenn Ocean to be able to identify us when Titus finally came asking.

***

This time we found a cave, or rather, a shallow depression carved out of the base of a rocky shelf. Jude curled up into the interior, and I bedded down near the gravelly edge. Above us, Magdalene paced around in giant circles, slowing winding down to sleep. I watched her, chewing on a handful or overripe seaweed that I'd plucked several kilometers ago, counting her revolutions.

One...two...three...four... I got to fifteen before my own mind began to slowly drift into that in-between space that wasn't quite sleep and wasn't quite full consciousness. My thoughts flowed easily there, and like a river on a downward slope, it flowed surely to one destination: Titus, more specifically, his whereabouts.

Eighteen, nineteen, twenty... Sometime this afternoon, I'd begun to feel apprehensive, probably because though we'd traveled long, we hadn't traveled far — when I'd taken Jude up for air, the Hoenn mainland had been there, with seemingly the same face pointed towards us. It made me feel eerie, like we were going in circles. Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven... Are we? No, I was pretty certain that we weren't — I'd pointed us north east, and we hadn't turned back once, so in all likelihood an increase in pace would solve that problem.

But that wasn't all making me twitchy: Thirty-two, thirty-three... What if we're going north, and Titus is coming down south? It was entirely possible. He could also be coming from true east, or west, or be creeping up on our tails from the south.

Or... Maybe he wasn't in the Hoenn Region. Maybe he was still scouring Kantonese waters, or sniffing around the frigid wastes of the Sinnoh Region. Or maybe he wasn't chasing us anymore, like Jude had posited. Not knowing was maddening, because Titus's whereabouts were the basis of nearly all of my decisions: his every move drove my countermove. And so if I couldn't see his side of the playboard, how did I know whether or not going northeast was the right decision?

Stay, Jude's voice said in my ear, fight.

I bristled, and looked over at him; he was leaning against the rocky curve of our shallow abode, but I glared at him as though he'd actually spoken. No. Keep moving. Keep being random. If you can't see him, being unpredictable is the only thing that will keep you safe. I'd learned that during my time in the Army, and it was the only thing that had kept me and Jude alive since Alto Mare.

But how do you know, Nero? How do you know that you aren't running straight into a wall of spears? Again, my mind went to the scavenging merfolk we'd seen at the dumping ground. Would they know? Had they seen Titus? Or old-fashioned soldiers in metal breastplates?

I shook my head again. No. Just keep moving. With that, I fell into an uneasy sleep.

Here, I had a very surprising dream. No, a memory, one that I hadn't recollected since that hellish time in the damned Tentacruel trench: a black ocean, and the four of us there: me, Titus, a younger Jude...and that shard, that damned, blue-black shard, a ragged, living knife that seemed to have a will of its own, that had put the fire in my blood. Jude floated forward with that sharp blue stone in his hand, and I kicked away, further into the darkness, terrified.

"Get that thing away from me!" I screamed.

Titus's eyes were black, and when he opened his mouth, Kuma's voice coming out of it: "Off it, boy. I am Kin. To stand against me would be to stand against the ocean herself."

They kept coming, Titus and Jude with that shard, and I kept backing up, screaming obscene things I can't remember, until I was forced to a halt against something huge and rough — spinning around, I saw Magdalene hovering high above me, her teeth bared, her ruby eyes glowing with a viciousness that was rarely ever directed at me. I quaked.

"Help," I beseeched her.

Instead, she came at me, snapping at me, and I jerked backwards... Right into Jude's arms.

"Won't hurt a bit, brother," he said with that cute, younger-Jude-smile, and he plunged the blue-black shard right into my throat.

I awoke with a choking gasp, and my hand flew to my neck. Whole and unblemished, but trembling, like the rest of my body from the sinister dream. I took a breath, proving to myself that it really had been a figment of my imagination, only for it to hitch at a harsh sting in my fluke. I sat up, squinting into a black ocean, and managed to make out Mag floating down by my tail, her teeth digging lightly into the fan.

"What is it?" I asked, sitting up. "Trouble?" She drifted to the side, and her glowing red eye — the flat cruelty that had been there in the dream was nowhere to be found, but I shuddered a little anyway — went over my shoulder. I spun, expecting to see trouble, and realized that was I was looking at was an empty, rocky hollow. I launched up from my seat, and took a moment to spit curses.

Then I calmed down, and searched our temporary abode. With confusion, I found that the satchel was still there, beside my pack. What did that mean? Did he need to relieve— You know what, I didn't care.

"Mag," I said, lifting up Jude's satchel and pointing to it — she'd seen him wearing it for the past few days, but there wasn't anyone else I could be referring to in the first place. "Did you see which way he went?" I pointed north, then south, then west, giving her some options, but abruptly she brushed past me, gliding up the shelf. My heart pounded in my chest as I followed her, scrambling to see straight in the dark. Arceus, please don't let him have gone far!

He hadn't... Yet for Jude, it was pretty far: it was a good fifteen minutes before we caught up to him, spiraling languidly over the dark seascape. It was quite obvious that he couldn't see where he was going — he was struggling along like a Zubat without its sonar, and as he drifted into a wavering shaft of moonlight, I saw that his tail dragged low to the ground, an easy target for a Crawdaunt or Kingler who was up in search of a midnight snack. My jaw hardened.

"Jude," I said tightly.

He froze and spun, which told me that he had been completely unaware that we'd been coming up behind him; it was only more proof that he had no business being out here on his own. In a moment, I'd joined him in the moonlight. My face began to twist into rage... Only to falter when Jude looked down, an uncharacteristic look of defeat spreading across his face.

"Just...using the...bathroom," he muttered.

Patience. The one word came through my mind cold, a whisper from Titus; I took a breath and swallowed, sending my temper to my stomach. He was right — anger would not serve me here, just as it hadn't served me during the confrontation with Darwin in Mr. Briney's house. I ground my molars together a moment, and finally got my voice down flat and neural.

"You're fifteen minutes upstream from the camp — whatever you're doing out here, it isn't pissing."

His hands balled into fists. "I left...my bag."

"Probably so Mag would think that you really were off to relieve yourself. She wouldn't have let you go otherwise."

His silence told me that I was right, and it stretched long — eventually he looked up, but not at me. He was looking behind him, back south... Sea we'd passed through over the past couple of days. There was obvious longing in his face, and I took another furtive breath.

"Delphirius is two days behind us," I said. "For you? A week, maybe more. And you'd probably never make it, when you can't even go ten minutes without getting tuckered out. And without your pack, how did you think you were going to sustain yourself? Were you going to eat sand? Or were you going to try and hunt a Pokémon?" I tried not to curl my lip, but it was hard. "More like they'd hunt you—"

"Shut up." There was that clarity of speech again — it only seemed to come when he was truly angry.

I did for a moment, waiting for him to respond. When he didn't, I said, softly, "Jude... That's done. We have to move on, and you know why. I know you were starting to make friends with Neko and the other kids, but it isn't worth it."

He turned to face me now, and the cavernous scars stretching across his face, welding his eye and half of his mouth shut, made his visage resemble the seafloor. "It's...worth it...to...me."

"No, it isn't. And you know why?" Of course he did, but he needed to be reminded: "Because we have blood on our hands. Remember?"

He quickly looked away again, but not before I saw the strike of grief pass through his eyes. "Shut...up," he said again, but this time I didn't.

"People have died to save us, and I..." My voice began to break, and I took another swallow to cement it. "And I've...ended others to protect us, to keep ahead of Titus. Too many others to justify us just sitting in place and waiting for Titus to come to us. They died so that we might live, and you want to just give up and give in?"

His fists flexed again. He was weakening, and something told me that I had to push harder, strike a brutal blow that would put an end to this foolishness once and for all. And suddenly, I knew what.

"There's something else," I said. "Another reason we couldn't stay: Kuma. She's Kin, the wind one."

He swung around, a thunderstruck look on his face. Then his brows shifted, twisting his face into one of hysteric disbelief. "W-what?"

"Cora told me," I said gravely. "She's seen me water-shape twice now, after the thing with the Tentacools, and she confronted me about it. But only because she'd seen Kuma do something like it when she was young." I explained the incident, and how Kuma had apparently moved a group of humans and their boat with a wave of her hands. "Kuma told Cora that it was an ancient secret called 'water-shaping', so I don't think there's any denying it."

Jude's scarred fingers dug into the skirt of his robes, wringing it into a thick blue rope. "D-did...Kuma...?"

"I haven't said anything to Kuma," I said. "And I told Cora to keep mum about it." I shook my head. "But even if it was some kind of mistake... Why risk it? Why hazard putting us in one place, for Titus to simply come down and scoop up? Staying in Delphirius only would have made it easier for him."

Jude kept wringing his robes, in a way that told me he was processing. Behind him, a massive shadow swept by in a wide circle — Magdalene, pacing silently, keeping an eye out for nocturnal threats. She'd gone by twice more before he finally spoke again.

"I don't...wanna run...anymore," he said quietly.

He sounded pained, and some of that crept into my own voice: "We don't have any other choice. If Kuma really is the wind one, then we need to be as far from her as possible. You owe that to her, for all she's done for you."

I saw his jaw tighten through his mask. "S-so she gets to...stay and...h-have a life and...w-we don't?"

"Yes," I said simply.

"And w-w...where are w-we gonna...go?"

"I don't know. Anywhere but here."

"And for...h-how long?"

As long as it takes, I wanted to say, but then an image came to me: that image, the one of Jude as an old merman, limping along through the waters with peach-colored scars. And me beside him — long-haired, wrinkled, and tired, running in a ring around the globe for the twentieth, thirtieth time, always looking over my shoulder, searching for Titus, searching for soldiers.

"I don't know," I said again.

Jude stared at me, a desperation in his eye. Then it suddenly drained into sadness.

"Your...wife..." he said softly.

The words were so sudden and so out of place that I almost wanted to laugh. "What?"

"Your...future...wife," he repeated.

A terrible chill crept down my spine instead, a spike of ice straight from Titus's hands. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You remember," Jude said. "How can you...meet your...wife...if we're...always...hiding...from...other...merfolk? H-how can you...have your...daughter if...we're always...running? How will...you...take her...spel...unking...and...show her...how to...play games and...teach her...how to hunt...and tuck her...in...and...kiss her...goodnight...if all we...do is...flee?" His face became pleading. "How will...you raise...your family...live your...life...if all you can...think about...is Titus?"

For one crazed moment, I felt a ferocious desire to reach out and seize his throat, and dig in with gloved fingers. Shut up. How dare he bring up things that I'd forgotten, things that I'd given up — things that I'd buried beneath the Army and Alto Mare.

But like lightning, the moment of madness passed, and the heat drained from me like a bygone fever. "That's behind me," I said lowly. "Just like Delphirius. Because unlike you, I've decided to shoulder the responsibility that I've been handed, whether or not it's fair, whether or not it's right."

That look of defeat returned to Jude's face. "Can't we...do both...?" he asked.

It was the last question he asked, and was one I didn't answer — eventually, he followed me back to our little camp, and eventually, he went back to sleep. But not me — I feared that the moment I closed my eyes, I would hear those thunderous words again, the ones that stayed long past their welcome, words that had taken a run-in with Tentacruel and every hardship since to finally bury, and forget:

How will you raise your family and live your life if all you can think about is Titus?

--

Author's Note

This chapter is...ok, I think. For now. Out of the batch of new material, it's probably the one that needs the most editing, even now!

I'm currently in the process of editing chapters 1-35. So far, I have completed 1-5, so I will be publishing those chapters along with new content on Wednesdays, until I run out of stuff to post. Yikes, a new-ish storyline, a new direction... I'm a little scared, folks! XD