OWEN’S POV

 

“If not everything is about us,” I asked, “why are you going to punish us for such a victimless crime? Like I said, going into the maze doesn’t hurt anyone but ourselves.”

“You wouldn’t get it!” Officer Pratt barked. “Follow me, both of you!”

Judging by the harsh, caustic tone the Krookodile used, I knew that there would be consequences - potentially lethal consequences, if I did not obey. So, with an audible gulp, I fell in line and followed the Krookodile through the streets of Ketchum.

There were quite a few Pokémon in the street along the way to the station. I wondered if this route had in fact been deliberately selected by the officer so as to make as much of a spectacle as possible. Officer Pratt would make an example out of us - that was clear.

But what did he mean by that? Why isn’t everything about us? And why did he need to emphasize that fact?

The Krookodile turned us onto a dingy street eventually. (It’s all relative, of course - just about every street in Ketchum fit that description.) And then he pointed to a door with the logo on his uniform featured prominently.

“Enter. Now!” he barked.

Theseus and I shuffled inside, and right away I was blown away by the building’s interior.

It was clearly a police station, not dissimilar to the one I’d first been transported to when arriving in this underworld. However, several fancy rugs were on the floor, as well as what looked like a chandelier. 

“You guys can afford a chandelier?” I wondered aloud, but then Theseus slapped me upside the face.

“That is irrelevant to the situation at hand,” Officer Pratt snapped. “Follow me into my office - that’s where your interviews will take place.”

Needless to say, the Krookodile used that word in a highly menacing manner, and it instantly went without saying that the interview would not be pleasant.

“Sit down,” Officer Pratt instructed both of us. We’d arrived in the Krookodile’s office, which resembled the principal’s office at my high school back in Wildebush. In other words, it was meant to make you more conscious of the fact that you’d fucked up.

“What do you want to ask us?” I asked. For some reason, Theseus did not slap me this time.

Officer Pratt glared at me, right between my eyes. “What do I want to ask you two? Gee, I wonder what!”

When both of us glanced blankly at the Krookodile, he shrugged. “Well, there isn’t too much to ask here, is there?”

I frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

The Krookodile narrowed his eyes. “I mean,” he replied, “it’s not like we don’t know what you’ve been up to. You were basically caught in the act climbing out of the tunnels beneath the city. It doesn’t take…well, I hate this word, but it doesn’t take an Einstein to suspect what’s going on.”

“Right,” I muttered.

“Of course, Shinx…”.

“My name is Owen,” I snapped.

“Shinx is your last name, you idiot! And in case this knowledge hasn’t penetrated that thick skull of yours, your species name is your last name!”

“I know, I know” I mumbled sheepishly, realizing that I’d dodged a Banzai Bill.

“So when you entered the maze,” Officer Pratt began, “what was your goal? What did you two troublemakers hope to accomplish?”

“That’s a loaded term, isn’t it?” I wondered aloud. “Troublemaker.”

Theseus, whom I’d almost forgotten was there, shot me a dirty look that clearly stated, Let me do all the talking.

“I use that word,” Officer Pratt replied, “because that’s what you two are. Troublemakers do things that are against the rules and create chaos, and that describes both of you to a T.”

“It was my idea,” Theseus stated. “As you know, I live in the guild hall, where Owen also resides. And…”.

“What does that have to do with your crime?”

“A walk through the Labyrinth is a rite of passage for us” the Umbreon replied calmly. (Or at least, a lot more calmly than I would have been able to speak.) 

Officer Pratt frowned. “A rite of passage?”

“Did I not make myself clear?” Theseus responded lukewarmly. “In any case, yes, it’s dangerous down there, but are we really endangering anyone other than ourselves?”

The Krookodile scratched the back of his neck. Clearly, this was a question he didn’t feel comfortable answering. But Theseus’ red eyes must have been boring right into his soul, because Officer Pratt eventually relented.

“Yes, you are,” he stated. 

“Well, that’s news to me,” Theseus replied. “Why would it be dangerous for anyone else?”

“That information is to be given on a need-to-know basis, Theseus Umbreon. Because you don’t need to know it, you’re not going to know it. It’s as simple as that.”

Theseus nodded awkwardly. “Right.”

“Suffice it to say,” Officer Pratt continued, “that it’s highly sensitive, and if you aim to use that information for a nefarious purpose, you’ll end up in even more trouble than you’re currently in. Do you understand me?”

When the Umbreon nodded again, the Krookodile gave me yet another glare. If looks could kill, I would have been a bloody Shinx carcass long ago.

“Shinx -”.

“Owen Shinx” I corrected him, only to be greeted with another dirty look from Theseus.

“Owen Shinx,” Officer Pratt continued testily, “although your escapades in the Labyrinth did not turn out as catastrophic as they could have, that doesn’t mean you should get off scot-free. After all, attempted murder is still a felony in your human jurisdictions, and it is here as well.”

“So?” I asked.

“So, from this point onward, you will be put to work. You start tomorrow.”

That in itself should not have been such an alarming sentence. After all, just about everybody on the surface who can work does work - that’s the only way to make a living, isn’t it?

But the fact that Officer Pratt did not elaborate regarding what type of work it was - that made me grimace. My imagination ran wild as I pictured myself forced to take part in any number of highly unpleasant tasks.

To make matters worse, I felt the start of a headache forming behind my temples. That was probably a function of this conversation, though - nothing to worry about.

“Where will I work, Officer?” I enquired.

Officer Pratt seemed way too excited to hand down my sentence. “Starting tomorrow morning, you are to report for work in the mines. You will dig holes and push carts. And remember, hard work builds character - it will remind you not to fight the law, because the law always wins.”

“Right,” I muttered.

The Krookodile wrote a few things down on a piece of paper, then gave me a quizzical glance. 

“You seem oddly…stoic about this? Aren’t you bothered that you have to work in the mines?”

“No, why should I be? Some jobs need to be done, don’t they?”

“Perhaps. But this is usually considered a severe punishment” Officer Pratt continued, this time with a slight smirk. “Let me tell you, Owen Shinx, you’ll be singing a different tune after a few hours in the mines.”

After that ominous promise, Officer Pratt let us go. It wasn’t quite a slap on the wrist, but judging by how relieved Theseus looked, I guessed that there were far worse punishments that one risked if they broke the rules in Ketchum.

We made the long trek back to the guild hall. In reality, Theseus kept insisting that it wasn’t really that long, but it sure felt that way to me. My legs ached within minutes, and soon after that I was breathing heavily with each step.

“Come on, Owen!” Theseus barked. “Follow me!”

“I’m…huff…trying” I wheezed.

The Umbreon turned to face me with an expression halfway between concern and annoyance, then kept on jogging uphill toward the guild hall. I kept pace as best I could in spite of the fact that I was running on empty.

“Here we are,” Theseus said, unnecessarily. 

“Nice” I muttered, but I choked on those words, soon to be seized by a coughing fit.

“You should be happier,” the Umbreon stated. “You survived the hall of snakes, after all.”

“Oh, I am-” I began, but the urge to cough took over after that, leading to me saying something that probably sounded unintelligible. I meant to say something like “I’m happy, but I’m also mad that you got us caught.”

Of course, it wasn’t entirely his fault. To some extent we’d just gotten unlucky. But I couldn’t help but compare the treatment we’d gotten at the police precinct in Ketchum as opposed to my interview with Sheriff Buckle’s deputy.

Speaking of which, I’d forgotten about Sheriff Buckle. Hopefully my brother would forgive me for that when I saw him again. (And yes, I had to believe that I would, in fact, see him again.)

“You can go upstairs, Owen, but it’ll be lunchtime soon,” Theseus told me. “So don’t get too comfortable.”

I began the ascent up the dusty stairwell. Perhaps I’d one day be able to tolerate all those allergens swirling in the air, but that day still hadn’t come. After sneezing (and this time coughing) my way to the fourth floor, I arrived at the room I shared with Cassius.

The Lucario had evidently been practicing his plank, but he pushed himself out of that position when I arrived. And then he turned to face me.

“Ah, you’re back. How was the trip?”

“Not - ACHOO - great.” 

I didn’t feel like telling Cassius why it hadn’t been great. This was for two reasons, both because I had no desire to relive the hall of snakes and because he’d find out anyway once I was summoned to work at the mines.

I then climbed onto my bed and collapsed onto the sheets, letting out an exhausted pant as I did this.

Cassius frowned at me. “You don’t look well,” he said.

“Well, thanks a lot” I muttered sarcastically in between wheezes.

“I mean,” the Lucario replied, “that you look exhausted. You seem out of breath, and I know we don’t have mirrors here, but you’re pretty pale.”

I could barely speak these words in between coughing fits, but this is what I said weakly: “Running through the Labyrinth will do that to someone.”

“Maybe you just have to get in shape” Cassius concurred, but he didn’t seem convinced. 

“I’d - ACHOO -  better,” I blurted out, neglecting my earlier promise to myself that I wouldn’t bring up my punishment. “I’ve gotta - ACHOO - work in the mines.”

Cassius’ scarlet eyes grew almost to the size of hubcaps. “You got caught?”

I nodded weakly, and then I became aware of a mild headache. Nodding again would likely hurt worse, so I just choked out a weak “Yes.”

“When do you start work?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Oh, Arceus,” Cassius stated. “The way you look right now, Owen, I doubt you’ll be able to work in the mines tomorrow.”

I ignored this statement. In hindsight, I think I knew that I was trying to convince myself that nothing was wrong, even though every bit of evidence from my body was informing me otherwise.

“I bet I can,” I told the Lucario. “I just need a good night’s sleep.”

“You’d better eat lunch first,” Cassius muttered. “Others will wonder why you aren’t dining with them, and besides, nutrition is important.”

“Maybe it is,” I mumbled. “But sleep feels more important.”

My eyelids were already fluttering shut, and it was all I could do to keep myself awake as I heard Cassius sigh.

“Just take a five-minute power nap,” he suggested. “That’s what I do.”

He said something else, too, but I didn’t hear him. I actually couldn’t hear him, because my body had taken over and decided that I needed sleep desperately. Food could wait - rest could not.

Only when I woke up many hours later would I learn that Cassius was right about one thing.

(Insert a horizontal line here)

 

The first thing I became aware of was the pool of water I found myself lying in. 

At first, my stomach felt sour at the thought of my body having betrayed me like that. And I recalled how mortified Matty must have felt that morning in the carriage.

But then I realized that the wetness was far more than would be associated with that. In fact, it came from my whole body.

“Ugggghhhh…” I moaned. My legs felt as though they were encased in hard Play-Doh, and my head ached worse than it had before.

I opened my eyes. This didn’t cause much pain at first, but then I felt the urge to shut them again when I saw the light orb.

It wasn’t the sun - not nearly as blindingly powerful. But it might as well have been with how much more sensitive my eyes had become.

“Good morning, Owen,” Cassius said. “Took you long enough to wake up,” he additionally remarked.

I gave another groan, and the Lucario gasped.

“What…what’s wrong?” I asked feebly.

“You’re lying in a pool of sweat!” Cassius exclaimed. “Let me run and get Father Labrador!”

Theseus is probably a lot closer, isn’t he?

I drifted back off into a fitful slumber, though that didn’t stop me from feeling as though I were having frightening dreams. When I woke again a few minutes later, I became aware of the Pyroar priest standing over me.

So they have faith healing here instead of, well, actual medicine? I mean, maybe he’s a doctor too? I guess that’s my best hope.

“Owen, isn’t it? Open your eyes.”

I did as I was told, but shut them again right away. It was then that an invisible ice pick was driven through my skull.

“Hurts to open your eyes, doesn’t it?” Father Labrador continued.

I nodded, then remembered just how dumb it was to do that as I dry-heaved.

“Why would that be, Owen?”

“The light!” I shouted in between retches. My throat was incredibly parched, and only later would I realize that this was likely due to the fever raging within me.

“Ah, yes, that can happen,” Father Labrador muttered. “Cassius, would you please get the orb out of sight?”

“Sure thing” the Lucario replied, evidently getting up from his bed and moving the light orb away. I could tell he was doing this because the level of light in the room suddenly became much more bearable.

Father Labrador examined me for some time, though I’m not sure precisely what he was examining. Maybe he was blessing me with the “preacher’s touch”, as they sometimes called it.

Eventually, Cassius returned from wherever he’d taken the orb, then said, “What’s the diagnosis, Doc?”

The Pyroar frowned. “I can’t be certain about it, but it sure looks to me like he might have the virus,” he said gravely.

“What virus?” Cassius replied. “Is it one of those zoonotic infections that pops up on the surface sometimes due to human interaction with animals?”

Did he just give me away? No, he wouldn’t do something like that!

“You know full well,” Father Labrador continued, “what virus I am talking about. It’s the same one that afflicted Ketchum eighteen years ago.”

“When I was just a baby,” Cassius mouthed.

“That is correct,” the Pyroar remarked. “We don’t have many blood tests available, but I can only assume that the virus is what Owen Shinx has. The symptoms line up with what we experienced all those years ago.”

“How should I know?” the Lucario enquired. “I don’t remember having it.”

“Well, of course you wouldn’t. You were so young.”

I could barely open my eyes, but I was able to open my mouth after a while to ask the following question: “How long…?” (I only had enough energy to utter those two words.)

“How long will you be sick?” Father Labrador replied. “Well, it depends on how much of the virus you were exposed to, and for how long. And, of course, how we treat it.”

“How will you treat him, sir?” Cassius enquired.

Something about hearing these conversations occur without, yet about, me was more than enough to make my heart race and my stomach churn. (Well, more so.) Part of me didn’t want to know just how much trouble I was in.

On the surface, the solution to such a disease would have been so simple. Okay, maybe not simple. I was no doctor, but I was smart enough to know that antibiotics were useless against viruses. 

“Well, we’ll just have to keep an eye on him,” Father Labrador said. “I don’t think his condition warrants the hospital - we don’t have much capacity even at the best of times. Hopefully Ziggy Golem’s food doesn’t contribute to that.”

Even with the apocalyptic pain making itself known behind my skull, I could derive some levity from just how evidently salty the Pyroar was that Ziggy had defeated him in battle…two days ago. Just two days ago!

“This is the Pokémon world,” I moaned. “You don’t have any Antidotes, do you?” Somehow, I had enough strength to say that - maybe it was a surge of adrenaline, which didn’t usually happen when you were lying in bed.

“I’m afraid not,” Father Labrador muttered gravely. “They’re always in short supply. I’m afraid you’ll just have to sweat it out, Owen.”

Not only was my mouth parched as hell, but I was still bathing in my own perspiration, which made me shiver. Needless to say, the prospect of “sweating it out” was far from appealing.

Turning to Cassius, the Pyroar gave the Lucario some instructions. “Put some cold compresses on his forehead. Make sure he drinks enough to stay hydrated. And keep it dark in here.”

“Got it,” Cassius muttered. “I’ll go get Theseus - he’ll need to know about this.”

It didn’t take more than a few seconds after that for me to drift off once more - I had essentially no energy left after that conversation.

After what felt like hours, but had likely only been a few minutes, I woke to an Umbreon standing on my bed.

“So it’s true,” Theseus mumbled. “The virus found you.”

I didn’t have the energy to respond, so the Umbreon spoke for me, shaking his head with a paw between his eyes.

“It’s my fault. I should have known - but how could I have?”

As ashamed as I am to admit this, I was basically a brick wall here. Both because I could not reply and because I did not know what to say.

“No matter what, I should have considered that you wouldn’t have immunity! I never thought the virus would lurk in the maze with everything else!”

A little late for that, isn’t it?

“I’ll go get a cold cloth” Theseus said. “You stay there, okay?”

It’s not like I can do anything else, so sure.

While I was too hot and tired to say that aloud, I think the Umbreon still got the message. A minute or two later, he returned to the room and placed a wet towel on my forehead.

“That should help,” he promised.

I groaned. “I don’t wanna be wet” I murmured.

“I know you don’t,” Theseus told me in an apologetic tone. “Buddy, you don’t have a choice. We have to take care of you, and part of that is to make sure you sweat enough for your fever to break.”

After another moan from me, Theseus cleared his throat again.

“You can work in the mines once you’re better. But now you have to rest, okay?”

I’m not sure why you thought that’d make me feel better, but okay.

“Cassius will be right here if you need anything” Theseus promised. “And you’ll feel a lot better when you wake up, I’m sure.”

My eyelids once more felt like lead weights.They weighed five pounds, then ten, then twenty…before long I lost my grip.

(Insert a horizontal line here)

 

MATTY’S POV

 

A few days had passed.

Honestly, I’m not sure if I even knew that much. Quite frankly, how could I when there were no windows or clocks in my cell? (And even if there were windows, wasn’t it always dark here?)

So I needed to find a different source of sanity. Calisthenics had to be done carefully, or else Sheriff Buckle would come barging in demanding me to be quieter. I’d learned that from experience. 

That being said, the reason the Cinccino had given, that the other prisoners needed to sleep, was laughable. Nobody was going to get much sleep in here - the chalk walls and floor, as well as the handful of leaves that served as my bed, served to guarantee that for me. And I had no reason to assume that the other cells were any different.

With every minute that passed (though again, how was I supposed to count the minutes in this chalky place?) my heart felt heavier. Not because I had anything to feel guilty about, but rather because my hopes of rescue were growing dimmer by the hour.

At some point, a knock came at the door, and I yawned. “Come in.”

“You’re just going to let me in like that, Eevee?” a barking tone from the other side announced. “You’re not even gonna try to resist?”

“Why should I?” I responded weakly. “It’s not like resisting would do me any good.”

“Well, you’re right about that,” Sheriff Buckle muttered as he entered my room. “I have some food for you, and you’d do well to eat it.”

Sheriff Buckle insisted that he was bringing me three meals a day. While I had no reason to doubt it, I also couldn’t take that assertion at face value without further evidence. That being said, it might be my only indication as to how much time had gone by. (But it didn’t matter, as I’d quickly lost count.)

Anyway, the Cincinno set a plate of what looked like some sort of mushroom stew before me. This was what he served me every meal, and while it didn’t smell pleasant, it didn’t taste nearly as horrendously as its stench might have suggested. I didn’t bother to wrinkle my nose, because by this time I was used to it.

“What is this, anyway?” I wondered aloud.

Sheriff Buckle frowned. “What do you mean?”

“This mushroom stew. What is it?”

The Cincinno laughed without any humor. “It’s mushroom stew. What else would you think it is?”

“Right, but what sort of mushrooms? They’re not poisonous, are they?”

Sheriff Buckle gave me a little side-eye - you know exactly what look I’m talking about. He also sighed.

“Matthew Eevee, why would we poison you like that? What would we have to gain from doing that?”

I didn’t answer that question, because I didn’t think it really needed to be answered. I just sat there and felt the tears fill my eyes.

I can’t cry. I can’t. If I do, I’ll get mocked until the end of time. Or the end of my life, whichever comes last.

“Oh yeah, and there’s one other thing,” Sheriff Buckle remarked. I was taken aback by this; I’d expected him to leave the room here, but apparently he had something else to say.

“What’s that?” I enquired, not sure I wanted to know. I was certain, however, that I’d learn whether I wanted to or not.

“Owen Shinx is your brother, is he not?”

I frowned. “Owen Shinx?”

“Right, you know him by a different name. Well, down here the species name is the last name, kid. So you’d better get used to it. Anyway, he said his name was Owen Tendai?”

I nodded. “What about him?” Honestly, I’d rather never hear his name again if I can have any say in the matter.

My throat threatened to close in the few seconds before Sheriff Buckle answered my question.

“Well, he’s in a lot of trouble right now” the Cinccinno stated. “Some would say he’s in a heap of trouble.”

I gulped. “Why, what did he do?”

“The precise details of his crime are not important,” Sheriff Buckle snapped. “All you need to know is that we’ve considered bringing him back here.”

Maybe they’re just telling me this to rattle me somehow. To toy with my emotions and whatnot. They’ve got ample reason to just lie - they have all the power, after all.

“How do you know?” I asked. I will admit I was grasping at straws here, though; with every second that passed, I could read the Cinccinno a bit better, and I could tell he was probably telling the truth.

“We have sources in the city, including Officer Pratt,” Sheriff Buckle replied coolly. “Now, I’m not a fan of Officer Pratt, but if he tells me something like this, I believe him. Interlopers never win in this land - trust me on that.”

After that, Sheriff Buckle refused to answer any more questions, instead slamming the door and (I assumed) retreating back to his office. This left me alone in the cell.

As I dug into my pitiful meal (whether to call it “breakfast”, “lunch”, or “dinner” I had no clue), the full weight of what the Cinccinno had told me hit me right between the eyes.

They might bring him here. This might become a double-occupancy cell. 

If this happened, I would have to face my brother, the one who betrayed me. “Awkward” wouldn’t even begin to describe our reunion.

Yes, Sheriff Buckle might have been bluffing. Maybe he just wanted to give me misinformation to manipulate me. Precisely what he wanted me to do for him, I had no idea. That being said, I was generally better at reading people (and Pokémon) than him.

After several days with no cellmate, I was running out of things to think about. Perhaps the best strategy to pass the time until release came (whatever form that release took) was to sleep as much as I could - that way, I wouldn’t have to think.

But as tiring as being locked in here was, I couldn’t drift off, not even if I curled into the fetal position on my pitiful “bed.” I just wasn’t tired enough.

Glancing at the wall, a solution occurred to me. 

I guess I just have to do more calisthenics. 

So that’s exactly what I did, hoping on some level that Sheriff Buckle didn’t hear me, but also barely caring. 

If they were going to punish me for making “excessive noise”, at least that would be something to break things up. As it stood right now, I was doomed to eventually (or immediately) lose my sanity.