The spreading fire had dwindled to a tiny glow at the limits of my vision when I decided the time had come to get some answers. ((Hold it. I don't want to go any further until you answer some questions.))

The Ninetales stopped and faced me. He did not seem offended by the request. ((What are your questions, then?))

((For starters, you can tell me what your name is and where you're taking me.))

((Fair enough. You can refer to me as Alex, or Alexander if you have a thing for syllables. As for where we are going, I thought it best to take you to my master at first. If anything can be done about your owner, my master will be able to do it, and if nothing can be done, you will need a place to stay.))

((Alex.)) The name sounded familiar to me, but I couldn't place it. ((And what is the name of your master, if I may ask?))

((He is called James. He lives in an old farmhouse not far from-))

((James!)) I exclaimed, interrupting. ((Does your master also work at a Pokemon Center?))

The fox narrowed his eyes. ((You know him?))

((Uh… sort of. We were on our way to meet him.))

((Then your master knows him.))

((Again, sort of. We're friends of a friend, I guess you might say.))

((Hmm… most interesting. I am beginning to see why the PLA called out what must have been an entire local chapter to intercept you. I think you should wait until we get home to say anything else. My master will want to hear.)) Alex looked back at the flames in the distance. ((The firefighters will be here soon, and some Hydro Pumps will make quick work of that blaze. We should keep moving.))

((You didn't have to start a forest fire just so we could get away,)) I pointed out quietly as we started walking again.

((Didn't I? Do you know what it is to be captured?))

I shook my head no, once again suddenly fearful for Courtney's safety.

((About the best you can hope for is to be placed in one of their so-called Pokemon shelters. That doesn't sound so bad, but the living conditions are generally intolerable-- and getting adopted by the sorts of people who shop those places isn't much better.)) Alex grinned, showing his teeth. ((There may be some good to come out of all this. If the authorities got here quickly enough, they may have seen the PLA agents leaving-- and who do you think will get the blame for the fire?))

((How can you say that? Think of all the wild Pokemon who lost their homes in that fire!))

((Whoa, whoa, whoa. I didn't say I liked having to do it, or that it was a good thing. I'm just pointing out that I basically didn't have a choice, and saying we should be grateful for any good that comes from the bad. Relax.))

((Um… okay, I guess.)) I still wasn't quite sure whether or not I agreed, but at least he seemed willing to be reasonable.

((For the record, you haven't told me what your name is yet.))

((I don't really have a name. You can call me Ponyta.))

((Ah. Ponyta.)) Alex cocked his head at me. ((Catchy.))

The last thing I needed was male sarcasm.

***

As promised, the mysterious James did indeed make his home in an old if well-kept farmhouse, although any traces of whatever farm it had once stood on had long since been obliterated by the advancing forest. Most of the windows were glowing with a soft yellow light and the front door was standing open. Alex seemed to think this was normal, so we went in without so much as a knock.

The living room was clean and tidy, but the furniture and rugs were obviously old and worn. The place had the look of being inhabited by someone who cared more about comfort and utility than about keeping up appearances. The overstuffed chair had definitely seen better days, and the swaybacked couch had several stains whose origins I didn't dare inquire upon, but the room also boasted several modern electronic devices, including a large television and a video phone.

((He must be in the study. Have a look around while I fetch him.))

I studied the room in greater detail as Alex scampered off. All four walls were covered in the same yellowing, floral-patterned wallpaper. Three of the walls were bare except for windows and light fixtures, but the fourth was almost completely tiled with framed pictures of Pokemon of all kinds. A few of the pictures were color, most were black and white, and many looked as though they had been clipped from a newspaper or other publication. I noticed that many of the pictures had small ribbons attached to them. The ribbons came in three colors: black, red, and white. The black and red ribbons far outnumbered the white ones.

Two sets of footsteps could be heard returning to the room now; one heavier and distinctly human. I turned my head to see who it was. James turned out to be a middle-aged man whose pure white hair and beard stood out in stark contrast to his darkly tanned skin. He wore thick glasses and was casually dressed. His most striking feature, though, were the twin scars on his temples and the matching pair near the base of his neck. I found myself wondering in fascination if he had more that could not be seen.

"Well, well, well. What have we here?" James squinted and adjusted his glasses, then frowned. "Ponyta, that's your name?"

((Yes, sir,)) I replied, shifting a bit.

"As good a name as any other, I suppose. Well, Ponyta, Alex here tells me that you and your master were referred to me by a friend. You were on your way to see me, I assume from Kelton, but you got ambushed by the PLA in the forest. Your owner was taken by the agents. Am I more or less correct so far?"

((Yes.))

"Hmm." The frown deepened. The lines on James' face suggested that here was a man who had occasion to frown far too often. "That's not good. Tell me, have you any idea why they were after you? You don't always know why you've been targeted, you see; that's why I ask."

((Well… you see, my master isn't really my owner.))

"You were stolen?"

((No… not really.))

James walked to the chair and lowered himself into it with a sigh. "Start as far back as you feel necessary, and explain the events that brought you to this point, if you would please."

In more or less detail, I quickly recounted my journeys from the time I had left Silverspring until I and Courtney had been ambushed on the highway. I left out my own peculiarities and the events directly surrounding them, figuring it was better not to break too much ice all at once.

When I finished, James seemed thoughtful for a few minutes. "Quite an interesting story, indeed. So King is our mutual friend? I was wondering when that young globetrotter would pop onto my radar screen again."

((Sir, how well do you know King and Ashley?))

James snorted. "I only taught him everything he knows. Look, I need to be at work in about an hour, and that means I need to get dressed. Before I go, I'll make some calls and we'll start seeing what can be done about releasing your master. Lost or stolen Pokemon aren't one of the PLA's main political platforms, so that makes out job a bit easier… not that that's saying much. But we'll see… Is that okay?"

I nodded. ((King told us to come to you for help, so I guess I trust you. Whatever you think we should do is fine with me.))

"Atta girl. I'll go do that, then." James heaved himself out of the chair and started towards the back of the house.

((But what if the PLA comes to the house while you're gone?))

"No problem," James called over his shoulder. "I sincerely doubt they will, but if they do, that's what the land mines are for."

((Land mines?))

But James was gone.

***

I waited until James had left for work to ask Alex about something that was bothering me. ((Forgive me for saying this, but your master seems a little bit paranoid to me.))

((Paranoid?)) Alex gave a small chuckle. ((Whatever makes you say that?))

((The fact that normal people don't put land mines around their houses, for one thing.))

((Oh, yes, those. Well, if it makes you feel any better, the mines can't go off until someone arms them from inside the house. And as for the paranoia bit, James has been shot at in public three times in the last six months alone. I don't think I'd call him paranoid, no.))

((Shot at… by the PLA?))

((Who else?))

((What did he do to get them angry at him? Does it have anything to do with the place where he works?)) It seemed to me that I had heard of humans killing each other over such matters.

((No, why would it? It's just a normal Pokemon Center-- nothing more, nothing less.)) Alex took a moment to stretch out where he was lying on the floor. ((No, the reason certain people want him dead is because of what he does here in this house. Have you ever heard of PRF? The Platinum Rule Foundation?))

I indicated that I hadn't.

((No surprise. It's pretty small so far. Anyway, what it is, is a charitable organization dedicated to improving conditions for Pokemon worldwide-- or, more briefly, doing what James calls 'offering an alternative.' One of the reasons the PLA is so powerful, we believe, is because they and their spinoff groups have an effective monopoly on the donations and support of people who want to help Pokemon. We're trying to break that stranglehold.))

I was beginning to understand. ((I see. And you run that organization from this house?))

((We do a large part of the work coordinating things, yes.))

((How successful have you been so far?))

((Moderately so. We've got a respectable number of members here on the peninsula, along with a modicum of official support, which is why we're considered dangerous. On the other hand, Johto and Kanto might as well be brick walls. Orthodoxy is strongest there, and the PLA is quite entrenched.))

At that moment the phone rang, momentarily interrupting our discussion. After the second ring, I asked Alex what we should do.

((If it's someone we know, the screen will engage automatically and I can talk to them. Otherwise, the system will take a message.))

As if on cue, the screen flickered to life, startling me. What was even more startling was the realization that although the caller had sprouted a beard, dark glasses and what had to be a wig since I had seen him last, it was still very much someone that I knew. ((KING!))

"Ponyta!" he exclaimed, almost at the same time. "You got there already! Is James at work? Where's Courtney?"

Remembering that King could not understand Ponyta-speak well, I turned to Alex for assistance. The Ninetales stepped forward and spoke. ((Ponyta's trainer never made it here, King. They were ambushed on the highway and only Ponyta escaped. James is currently conducting a search for her.))

"Damn." King's face fell. "You have no idea how much I wish I could help, but I think at this point I and Ashley need to leave the continent. We're going to Kanto. They'll never look for us there, and besides, I think that the only safe way out of town right now is by ship."

((You were attacked too?))

"Very nearly so, yes. What really frightens me is the fact that I think Schaefer himself is with this group."

((An operation of this size can't be good,)) said Alex worriedly. ((What are your travel plans and cover? James will want to know.))

"Tickets to Vermillion on the liner Gustav Gustaffson," said King, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at a large cruise ship in the background. "Once we get there, I'll probably try and borrow some Pokemon from a contact so that I can pose as a bona fide trainer. We'll probably stay there anywhere from two to six months. If the old man has any questions, he can call me, okay?))

((Got it.))

A flashing red border formed around the edge of the screen. "My time for this call is almost up. Was there anything else?"

Alex shook his head no.

((Say hi to Ashley for me,)) I cut in.

"Will do." Evidently King had learned a little of the language here and there. "Ponyta, don't worry. As soon as this all blows over, we're coming back and we're going to visit you."

The screen flickered and went dark. I sighed.

((Don't sound so mournful,)) Alex admonished me, returning to his resting spot on the rug. ((At least two people we know are OK. You learn to appreciate that kind of thing.))

I couldn't fault his logic, even though I wasn't sure logic was what the situation called for. I decided to change the subject a little. ((So you've met King, too?))

((He's come by the house a few times over the years to do business or just to be friendly. We actually don't have a shortage of visitors here, despite all the security. That little Vulpix who follows him around is quite a handful, isn't she?))

((She can be, I'm sure. You've known her for a while?))

Alex looked rueful. ((Long enough for her to bite me. Hard. Like I said, she's quite a handful.))

His tone of voice did not seem to invite further discussion, so I decided that another change of subject was in order. ((What time does James get home from work?))

((Most days he gets home around three. Not soon, in other words. Get some rest. I doubt you had a full night's sleep, and even if you did, a few hours' extra nap time never hurt anybody.)) Alex immediately followed his advice by starting to snore in what must have been less than ten seconds.

I sighed. Lack of sleep or no, resting did not seem to be in the cards for me anytime in the near future.

***

When Alex finally woke up later that afternoon, I asked him to tell me a little bit more about himself and James. There were a few too many mysteries surrounding the place for me to resist, and I needed something to pass the time anyway.

He seemed amused. ((What would you like to know?))

((Well, for starters, I'm curious as to how you and James met.))

((Oh, that.)) He shrugged. ((It's no long story. He rescued me from a Daycare in the Orange Islands. I had no owner, he had a thing for foxes-- it was a match made in heaven, I guess.))

((Daycare?))

((You don't know what one is?))

((Not in the context of Pokemon.))

((You really don't get out much, do you? Ahem. 'Daycare' is the euphemism used by most humans for Pokemon breeding mills. There are two different kinds-- one is a large-scale operation that cranks out Pokemon by the hundreds for sale to families with small children, and one that caters to clients on an individual basis, many of whom bring in their own Pokemon to be bred.)) Alex had a look of utter disgust on his face as he spoke. ((Needless to say, most of this breeding takes place without the consent of the Pokemon involved. Sometimes Pokemon are even forced to mate outside of their own type, just so that the offspring will have some desirable move.))

I digested this information.

((Some daycares even provide training services for wannabe trainers who can't be bothered to do things on their own. You drop a Pokemon off, come back a few weeks later, it's gained a bunch of levels. No muss, no fuss.))

((Do you and James… do you work against these Daycares?))

((We try to, yes. Again, the problem is mainly one of education-- the average Daycare user, we've found, doesn't tend to have any idea of what horrific places they are. The trouble is, guess who backs up the Daycares half the time?))

((The PLA?))

((Yup. Seems bribes help pay for reelection campaigns.)) Alex scowled, then brightened up a bit. ((Okay, now I get to ask you a question, okay?))

It was fair enough. ((Shoot.))

((Do you have a boyfriend?))

It was not a question I had been prepared for, to say the least, and the fact that I could answer the question in any of several ways only made it worse. ((Yes. No! Um… I don't know.))

((Yes? No? You don't know?)) Alex sounded faintly amused.

((Heh.)) Oddly enough, I was not angry at myself for sounding like an idiot, as I had been in times past. For some reason I felt like I enjoyed talking to Alex, almost like I had Ashley. ((We just got involved with each other, I guess… and neither of us has really put it in those terms yet.))

((I've had relationships like that. Do you want to put it in those terms, though? I guess that's what I'm asking.))

That question at least was easy to answer. ((Yes, I do… a lot. I think one of us was going to, but I kind of had to leave town in a hurry.))

((I've had relationships like that too,)) commented Alex dryly. ((Well, then, best of luck meeting up again, I suppose.))

((What about you?)) I had to ask.

((Me? Well, nothing at the moment, actually. That's why I asked.))

I was saved from having to respond to that by the sound of heavy booted feet on the front porch. James had returned home.

***

"Well, why didn't King call me at work?" was what James had to say when we told him about the only interesting thing to happen that day. He sounded kind of annoyed, which I supposed was reasonable considering he had just come off of eight hours at work. "He has my cell number."

((He might not,)) pointed out Alex. ((You had to change numbers a while back, remember?))

"Yes, I did," mused James, stroking his beard. "Too many misguided individuals in this world with nothing more productive to do with their days than make obscene phone calls. I know I sent an e-mail to the list with my new number… but it'd be just like King to not go near a computer for months and wonder why he missed everything. Well, speaking of e-mail, let's go check my inbox and see if we've made any progress towards locating your Courtney."

I followed James to the room in the back of his house that I guessed was his study. Like the other rooms I had seen, it was utilitarian but not harshly so. There was an old, heavy desk against one wall, complete with an equally aged but serviceable swivel chair and a free-standing file cabinet to one side. The desk held a modern computer along with a printer that doubled as a scanner and copier, but every other available square inch of desktop was cluttered with papers. The only other article of furniture in the room was a small cot against the opposite wall. It was neatly made and was evidently not the place where James slept on a regular basis.

"Hmm. Let's see." James slipped into the chair, deactivated the Pokemon screen saver with a click of the mouse, and clicked through windows until he arrived at his e-mail program. "Mr. Hate Mail, meet Mr. Recycling Bin. Update from Kyanon; I'll get to you later. Oh, here we go." He pointed to something on the screen and motioned for me to come closer so I could read over his shoulder. "Report from a friend of mine in the south. Seems the PLA made a big publicity splash out of returning some runaway girl to her family near Tentacruel Bay. Sound familiar?"

I looked at the names given in the e-mail as the parents of the girl. Indeed they were familiar; they were those of Courtney's parents. I felt an overwhelming sense of relief: at least she was safe and no longer in the hands of the PLA. ((That's her,)) I confirmed to James in a shaky voice.

"Well, that's good. That's very good. Let me just keep looking to see if I got anything that corroborates this or offers any additional information."

James continued to scan his mailbox for anything that looked like it might be relevant to our situations. Meanwhile, I took the time to study the room's walls. Like the living room, there were little or no extraneous items standing on the floor, but the wall was positively cluttered with decorations. In this case, the walls were covered with framed drawings… drawings of Pokemon. There were plain pencil sketches, charcoal drawings, colored pencils, even a hand-inked chart of all the Unown in alphabetical order. They all seemed to have been done by the same person, and while I was no art critic, it seemed evident to me that this person had no small amount of talent.

((Um, James?))

"Yes?" He didn't move his head or pause in his task as he answered me.

((Whose drawings are these?))

"Oh, the ones in this room? Those are all mine. You like them?"

((Very much,)) I said. ((They're very good.))

"Thank you. It's kind of you to say so." James sounded genuinely pleased by my compliments. "Most Pokemon don't care much for artwork, it seems, or maybe it's just mine. You're only the third Pokemon to have commented favorably on them."

((Who were the first two?))

"Oh. Alex, naturally, and a rather peculiar Blastoise that I had the pleasure of knowing for a time. He had me draw a special picture for him-- it should be down near the floor, next to the door, I think."

I looked, and found the picture easily. It was of a peculiar Blastoise indeed: instead of the normal blue color scheme, this specimen was done in fiery reds and oranges. The twin cannons protruding from its shell each had a small wisp of flame trailing from the muzzle. ((I see it. It's… interesting.))

"He loved it." James still did not turn from his work, but his voice grew thoughtful. "I wonder what happened to that Blastoise."

I found myself wondering, too-- and something else struck me. ((James, do you think you could draw a picture for me?))

"Certainly. Inspiration has always been a big problem for me, so it's good when other people ask me to draw something. What did you have in mind?"

I didn't have to think about it, of course. ((A Ponyta… but make her coat yellow, not orange. And instead of flames, make her mane and tail spiky, like a Jolteon. Do you think you can do that?))

"Shouldn't be a problem," he said. "I'll start on it as soon as I can, but I can't promise when it will be done."

And that was that.

James continued his task. I meanwhile continued looking at the picture. It was only a guess, but the longer I looked at the strange creature depicted in the drawing, the more convinced I was that we might have something in common. If only I could have met him. What would we have found to talk about?

"Ponyta. Is this your trainer? The one you ran away from, I mean, not Courtney."

I looked at what James was referring to. The e-mail had contained a link to an online news article, which in turn included a picture of a tall, well-dressed man with a large mustache and jet-black hair that was greying about the temples. ((No, that's his father. Henry Kettlebaum.))

"Your original owner was his son?"

((Yes.))

"I see." James leaned back, removed his glasses, and rubbed his forehead. "Well, at least now I understand why the PLA was after you. You seem to have made an enemy of the richest man in the Southern Reaches. It's no wonder they'd be falling all over themselves to be the ones to return you to his son." Sigh. "This is good news in a way, because combined with everything else I've read in the past five minutes, we can rest assured that Courtney is safe again with her parents. The bad news is that the South is likely to be swarming with PLA activity right now. There's probably no way to get the two of you back together immediately."

((How long?)) It was all I wanted to know.

"Best-case scenario, which would be them latching on to something else quickly, is about a month. Worst-case, it could take up to a year."

Even a month seemed like an eternity, but I did not protest. Courtney's safety was all I could possibly have hoped for, and now that that was assured, everything else seemed like a bonus. ((What will I do until then?)) was my next question.

"You're welcome to stay here with us. We can both use the company, and my job provides me with free Pokemon-related goods and services, so it's no big deal. Sound good?"

All of the other people that I could consider my friends were too far away to be of any help, and I didn't want to be out on my own, not now. I nodded yes.

"Excellent." James rose from the chair. "Let's start by figuring out where you're going to sleep. While we're at it, I can tell you about a few things you should know if you're going to be staying here."

((Like what?))

"Well, Alex, for instance."

((What about Alex?))