Another Day at Unity (19) (Patreon)

The city called Alto Mare was nowhere near the most dangerous Hayden had ever visited. The streets of her own village were probably worse, with greater poverty and desperation among its residents. Her parents had let her run wild through much of her childhood, a product of their own desperate situation.

Besides, Hayden had been a boy then, and at least a little less susceptible to the dangers that might present themselves to a small, vulnerable individual out on their own. Despite that one change, she did not feel as though she were in any more danger now than when she had been younger.

But Alto Mare was a different city to the one she'd left behind, and that meant unfamiliar territory. She could copy their fashions, and probably learn to copy their accents too with a little time and attention. But those things would not make her a local, not in the time she had to work with.

Even if Eon House couldn't track down their rogue legendary by the end of summer, presumably Hayden would need to go back to Unity herself, or else create a public scandal. If the girl who caused the school to exist in the first place didn't have to go, why should any of the Great Families send their offspring?

Hayden's practical new clothes now hid under illusion, replaced with a duplicate of what she saw the local girls wearing. Short skirts, high leggings in dark colors, along with creamy colors underneath and occasional red or blue accents.

She did feel much weaker than usual at that moment, with even the speed and adaptability of an eevee kept from her. But that was the price she paid to conceal her Unity in a transformation.

Hayden had no tail, no pokemon ears, though her eyes remained the exact shade of hazel common among the little brown foxes. She would be slower that way, tire faster, and need to transform if she suffered any kind of injury.

"I don't like feeling so vulnerable," Liz said, bounding ahead of her. They ran together past a fountain, towards a little general store on the waterfront. This one looked like it sold candy and food, anyway, which was what she needed. "You could've just picked a hat to hide the ears. Then maybe... a fluffy dress."

There were plenty of other people on the piers of Alto Mare, enough that one conversation was quickly lost. Even so, speaking out loud was just another vulnerability they would have to worry about, without the telepathy to make communication secure.

"This kid wouldn't talk to someone who wore a dress like that. And I probably wouldn't be able to keep up if he ran."

"We still can't. Should've been pachirisu."

A good point, actually. Hayden had rejected the thought out of hand, considering the tail so absurd as to make any kind of stealth impossible. But if she was going to hide her Unity in the transformation anyway...

"At the shop. I'll do that." Besides, part of Hayden's real experience always made her eevees younger than other forms, since that was how she'd spent much of her childhood. A squirrel need not have the same biases.

“Merchant of Vanillish” was exactly the kind of shop she wanted to visit, with huge jars of sweets behind the counter and plenty of less interesting things in sacks and bags in the various rows.

Hayden slipped all the way to the back of one of these, waited until no one was watching, then changed. She got taller, a little older. Her front teeth grew slightly more prominent, and her hair light blue, with little white highlights. Not as long as she liked, but short, with slight spikes in places from the electrical energy.

A little more Unity than she had first imagined, when she tried to construct the false identity. But she would hardly be the first person to intentionally style themselves after their daemon.

When they were done, Liz perched on her shoulder instead of bounding along in front of her. Her little head jerked rapidly from one direction to another, watching the space around them.

Then she selected a plain cloth backpack, and began gathering as many snacks as she could carry. She brought it all to the front, and asked the owner to add another pound of candy from the various display jars.

He clicked his tongue once, folding stern arms and glowering at them both.

"Don't know you, kid. You're making me nervous. Got the coin for all that?"

She dug around in her pocket, removing a few silver coins.

Not long ago, Hayden had not understood the value of money, and the differences between various denominations. That ignorance had ultimately ended in the death of one of her closest friends; it was not a mistake she would make again.

"I think I counted the prices—is this enough?"

The shopkeeper slid them over, then prodded the coins with a little metal piece, hard enough that he made a mark. "Not sure you belong on this side of town, kid. You're a long way from home."

She nodded. "It's obvious, I know. Just came out here chasing legends."

She glanced nervously up and down the shop, but found few other patrons. No one was anywhere close to checking out yet, maybe she could risk it.

"Where shouldn't I go? If I'm trying to stay out of danger. You're right, I've never been to this part of Alto Mare before."

He took a shiny metal scoop, depositing various chocolates, gumdrops, and other things into a cloth bag. Most were uninteresting to Hayden, she'd been too spoiled by the exotic berries and fresh fruit of her adoptive station. Common sweets were just too much sugar, and not a lot else.

"Aye, you're good to ask. If you were smart, you'd cross Remoraid Bridge back the way you came, towards the Museum District. Constables keep that area nice and clean for the tourists, so you would be safe so long as you're not out after dark."

She frowned, bouncing up on tiptoe to try and meet his eyes better. Unfortunately, her imagination of pachirisu did not make her think they were particularly tall. Thin and athletic yes, but still small. If someone was big and strong, they wouldn't be a rodent. "What if I had to stay in... this district? Because I'm meeting some friends later. Where should I tell them not to go?"

"Oh." He wrapped the bundle with twine, then looked over her basket full of snacks. Dried berries, jerky, crackers, and a few cans of soup—as much as she thought her current body could carry without slowing her down. Plus a little candy on top of that.

"Well miss, convince them to head back if you can. If not, then... don't go to the old fish market. Used to be down the way there, left of the fountain. But the shoals dried up, and eventually the market closed. City keeps promising to clean it up and build a park or some such, but hasn't happened yet."

He settled everything into the pack for her, then pushed over a few metal pieces—change.

"Old fish market," she repeated. "It's not safe? Holes in the floor?"

He laughed nervously. "More than that, I'm afraid. Just as in the ocean, the waste must sink to the bottom. Mulino is the bottom of Alto Mare, where some of the most dangerous people inevitably sink. Stay away from there. In fact, you shouldn't even be here after dark, miss. This district isn't safe."

Hayden took her new backpack, leaving the flap deliberately open in back so its contents would be visible to anyone taller than her. Being a pachirisu meant that was almost everyone.

We have to be faster than the Eons, that means taking shortcuts.

Hayden walked in one direction until she was out of sight of the shop—then immediately turned towards the direction she'd been told not to go.

"Are you sure about this, Hadie?" asked the little squirrel on her shoulder, watching their surroundings turn from run-down fountains and old iron statues to dirty brick and wood buildings. Many of these were abandoned, though of course none more than the fish market.

She didn't go directly to it, though. This wasn't something she could just invite herself into, not when she was a total stranger.

But for the first time she remembered, a task given by her mythical masters actually played to her strengths. Even if she hadn't grown up in this town, she knew what it was like.

Hayden found herself a little alley with a huge metal dumpster to block the entrance, somewhere she could work. "Those bricks look loose, find me one we can pry open."

The squirrel looked up, her tail going alert behind her in obvious annoyance. "Oh sure, search around the building and transform at the same time. No problem."

She stuck her tongue out. "You know it isn't."

Hayden changed her illusion, making the dress dirty and the clothes stained. She hid the shoes completely, leaving only long dirty socks with several holes and some cloth wrapped around the bottom to try and do the same job. She made her hair long and wild, a mane that fell well behind her and probably hadn't seen a brush or shampoo in ages.

Finally, Liz found what she was looking for—a brick loose enough in its mortar that she could pull it free. Hayden checked both directions, then yanked. As she hoped, there was a narrow gap behind it, wide enough to stash the gold Moonstone had given her, along with all but one of the photos.

She kept the out of focus newspaper clipping of her target, along with the small coins she'd got as change from the merchant.

"You sure about this?" Liz asked, returning to her shoulder a few moments later. "You know what Ilene would say."

She could imagine the Jirachi's voice in her mind, cold and calculating. "No matter the significance you attribute to Lord Moonstone's assignment, you should not take a route that subjects you to unnecessary risk. Your mythical strength may permit you to survive threats that others cannot, but transformation greatly limits the expression of that strength. Anything that kills you too quickly to reverse your transformation will leave you just as dead. What would I tell Master Julian?"

Gale Moonstone would probably not approve of this path either. But what the lord of the house required, he would receive. He wants me to be strong enough to be the wife of the Eldest one day. That means taking risks.

Hayden no longer walked calmly through the streets when she stepped out behind the dumpster. Though only illusion was different, that illusion created a powerful new persona in its own right.

Hayden knew what the hopeless kids looked like, whose families couldn't pay for them anymore, or who had lost them entirely. Now she was one of them, the light blue of her hair stained with the same yellow-brown that dirtied all these warehouses, and covered her skin thick enough to hide the electrical sacks in her cheeks.

Where before the occasional worker stared at her, even suggesting she should turn around—now she had the opposite reaction. People moved away from her, or else took a swing with whatever heavy object they happened to be carrying.

Hayden scampered past them all, dodging around them with the speed of a pachirisu, and the experience of a kid who'd grown up doing this.

From the map, she knew there would be somewhere interesting this way, and she found it: a large section of old docks, where once the boats had probably brought their catch to trade at the nearby fish market.

With the market gone, the docks fell into disrepair, slowly eroding before the sun and surf. But what were a few safety hazards to young people with no one who cared what happened to them?

At least two dozen children were scattered along the docks. Some played, while others fished with clear lines wrapped around plastic bottles.

They weren't Sunyshore kids, didn't fit into the neat categories of “sailor” or “townie.” But they looked the same in every other way. Dirty clothes, or none at all from the ones who were swimming. Almost all were some flavor of scrawny, though there were a few with more weight. Better thieves, or maybe those still had families somewhere in Alto Mare.

Even the largest street wars on Hayden's home turf could not muster so many combatants. But these kids weren't fighting, they were playing.

"He's here," whispered that little squirrel, directly into her ear. "Out on the broken pier, by himself. Feel it?"

Hayden turned, and saw. There was one dock separated from the others by at least ten feet, where shards of splintered wood rose from below, covered with sharp mussels.

The kid sat on one side, legs dangling into the dark water. He sat staring out over the bay, though facing sideways, so he could get a good look at the members of his gang in their play. A girl lingered just beside him, resting one arm on his shoulder, and apparently looking the other way, out over the water.

Hayden's disguise concealed her, but theirs couldn't do the same. Orphan or not, 14 years old or not, Hayden knew dragons when she saw them.