"The mother had a litter of eggs last month," Elm said. The three of them were hurrying down the hallway, toward the wing of the lab where he kept newborn Pokemon. "They were all spoken for, of course. But one of them was born rather small and strange." Elm swiped his keycard to enter the nursing center, where he kept mother Pokemon with their babies. They passed four doors, from which emitted a series of whimpers and screeches, until they arrived at a door labeled with a V.
"In here," he said, and the three of them entered.
The floor in this alcove was stone. Theo knew this was the material used in a room for hatching Fire Pokemon. Newborns could rarely muster as much as an ember, but mothers, sometimes in a panic over their babies, could start little fires, which could be disastrous in a laboratory like this.
In one corner was a bowl of water, and beside it a large bowl of pellets for the Pokemon. In the opposite corner, a mother Quilava was curled up. She appeared to have been sleeping, but when they entered her eyes shot open and the flame on her head lit up.
"It's just me, little one," Elm said to her. She dimmed her flame as he went to pet her head. He crouched even lower to stroke the fur of the babies she had nestled beside her.
"Here they are," Elm said. His warm, honeyed tone was reserved for Pokemon alone; Theo had never heard him use it with a person, not even with his own family. With a gentle finger he stroked the heads of six blue-black Cyndaquil, which were blinking awake. Each had four red spots on its back, from which fire would eventually emerge, but they were still too young for that.
"Their fur is the same color as your hair," Lyra said, glancing at Theo. She crouched down next to the Professor, and Theo did the same.
"Funny you should say that," Professor Elm said. "Now where is he? It's a male." He reached underneath the Cyndaquil, which all wriggled away from him. "Ah, here. Hiding as always."
The professor held up a seventh pup that neither Lyra nor Theo had been able to see. It was a little smaller than the others.
"Why does it look like that?" Lyra asked, for this Cyndaquil was not the glossy blue-black of his siblings, but a strange purplish color. The spots for its future flames were not red, but an even deeper purple.
"I'm not sure," Elm said. "I've been breeding Cyndaquil off and on for years now, and I've never seen one quite like this." He cradled it as it opened its squinting eyes. "I sent a photo to the couple that had purchased it. They were in Kanto. Rather wealthy. They thought it looked sickly, though, and they asked for their deposit back." Elm sighed. "No one's wanted it since." He looked up at Theo. "Here, see if he takes to you."
Theo held his hands out for the little Cyndaquil. He pulled it to his chest, where it rested its head and pointed its nose up at him. It blinked its eyes, gave a contented sigh, and fell back asleep.
"They're much busier in the daytime," Elm said. "They're still little, so they do get tired at night." He looked Theo up and down. "Well? Will that do? He doesn't look terribly strong, but he could probably fight off a Pidgey or a Sentret. Just avoid Geodude and you should be fine."
The Cyndaquil was snoring peacefully against Theo's chest. Perhaps it was the little Fire Pokemon, but Theo felt suddenly warm.
"I'll do it," he said.
"Good," Elm said. "Let him sleep here. Come back in the morning and I'll outfit you with what you need." Theo handed the little creature back. He was surprised to find, after only a few moments with the Cyndaquil, that he was reluctant to give him up. "Are you registered as a trainer?"
"No," Theo said.
"No? How odd," Elm said. Most students registered in their final year of high school, but Theo hadn't been able to afford the fee. "Well, I'll input you tonight so no one thinks you stole him." He checked his watch. "Lyra, you must be going. Theo, I'll see you in the morning."
Theo walked home into the crisp night. His face was warm and he was smiling, thinking about the Cyndaquil. As he walked the dark streets of New Bark Town toward home, his smile grew even brighter. He had remembered the egg.