One month of salamander parenting had taught them several important lessons about magical creature care, none of which had been covered in Mr. Alderton's comprehensive pamphlet collection.

Lesson one: Salamanders grew fast. What had been a kitten-sized creature was now roughly the size of a medium dog, though considerably longer and more flexible. Spark had developed the disconcerting habit of wrapping around furniture like a scaly, fire-breathing house cat.

Lesson two: Salamanders were intelligent. Spark had learned to open doors, identify which of their possessions were most valuable, and time its mischief for maximum inconvenience. The creature had also developed distinct preferences for different types of flames, treating Pyra's orange fire like candy while approaching Cinder's crimson flames with the reverence reserved for fine wine.

Lesson three: Salamanders had opinions. Strong opinions. About everything.

"Spark, no," Pyra said firmly, removing the salamander from her pack where it had been attempting to make a nest out of her spare clothes. "We've talked about this. The pack is not your bed."

Spark chirped indignantly and immediately began climbing the wall toward the ceiling, where it proceeded to hang upside down in what was clearly a display of wounded dignity.

"It's sulking," Kindle observed, looking up from her breakfast. "Our pet is sulking."

"Our pet has learned to sulk," Ash corrected, consulting her notes on salamander behavior. "Which suggests emotional complexity significantly beyond what the literature indicates."

"The literature was written by people who studied salamanders in laboratories," Ember pointed out, spreading jam on her toast with the careful attention of someone who'd learned that sudden movements around their quarters could startle a wall-climbing fire-eater. "Not people who lived with them."

Their daily routine had evolved around Spark's needs and preferences. Someone always stayed home while the others took Guild missions, rotating the responsibility based on who could best handle salamander supervision. Pyra remained Spark's favorite, but the creature had developed distinct relationships with each of them.

With Cinder, Spark played elaborate games of hide-and-seek that tested both their tactical skills. With Ember, it enjoyed what could only be described as discussions—complex exchanges of chirps, trills, and flame patterns that suggested actual communication. With Kindle, it practiced acrobatics, using her speed to create obstacle courses through their quarters. With Ash, it listened to her reading aloud, often settling into a comfortable coil while she worked through philosophical texts.

"Whose turn is it today?" Cinder asked, shouldering her mission pack.

"Mine," Ash replied, already settling into her reading chair with a book about the ethics of magical creature ownership. "We're going to have a nice, quiet day of academic research."

Spark, still hanging from the ceiling, made a sound that could only be described as skeptical.

"It knows when you're lying," Pyra observed, scratching behind the salamander's horns as it lowered its head toward her. "You're not planning a quiet day of research."

"I'm planning a quiet day of research," Ash insisted. "Whether Spark cooperates is entirely up to Spark."

The salamander dropped from the ceiling with fluid grace, landing on Ash's shoulder with the casual confidence of someone who'd mastered the art of dramatic entrances.

"See?" Ash said, gently stroking Spark's scales. "Perfectly reasonable creature."

"Famous last words," Cinder muttered, but she was smiling as she headed toward the door.

Three hours later, Ash was forced to admit that Spark had not, in fact, been planning a quiet day of research.

The salamander had started the morning by reorganizing her bookshelf according to some internal logic that prioritized books with the most interesting covers. It had then moved on to testing whether different types of paper produced different flavors when consumed. This had led to the discovery that Guild administrative forms were apparently delicious, which had prompted Spark to investigate whether other official documents might be equally tasty.

"Spark, that's our lease agreement," Ash said, gently removing the partially eaten document from the salamander's mouth. "We need that."

Spark chirped apologetically and immediately began investigating whether the window curtains might be edible.

"No, the curtains are not food either."

The salamander gave her a look that suggested it was reconsidering its opinion of her intelligence, then proceeded to demonstrate its displeasure by breathing out a small puff of flame that singed the edge of the curtain.

"Spark!"

But the salamander was already in motion, scampering across the room with the fluid grace that had made it nearly impossible to catch when it was in a playful mood. It reached the door, rose on its hind legs, and began working the latch with the sort of methodical precision that suggested it had been studying the mechanism for weeks.

"Oh no," Ash said, recognizing the signs of an impending escape attempt. "Don't even think about it."

The latch clicked open.

Spark turned to look at her, chirped once in what sounded like farewell, and darted through the doorway before she could react.

"Spark!" Ash scrambled after the salamander, but it was already halfway down the corridor, moving with the sort of purposeful speed that suggested it had been planning this escape for days.

She could reach the salamander in seconds if she used her speed, but the Guild building's corridors were filled with people going about their daily business. Moving at superhuman velocity through a crowded space would endanger everyone around her.

Instead, she had to rely on normal human reflexes, which meant she was always several steps behind as Spark explored its newfound freedom with obvious delight.

"Spark, come back!" she called, trying to keep her voice calm and authoritative rather than panicked. "This isn't a game!"

The salamander paused at the end of the corridor, looked back at her with what was unmistakably amusement, then darted down the stairwell toward the main hall.

By the time Ash reached the Guild's main hall, Spark had already attracted attention. The salamander was perched on the information desk, chirping cheerfully at the clerk while small flames danced around its claws.

"Is that your salamander?" the clerk asked, her voice carrying the sort of professional calm that suggested she'd dealt with escaped pets before.

"Yes," Ash said, approaching slowly. "Spark, come here. Right now."

Spark tilted its head, considering the request, then leaped from the desk and began scampering toward the main entrance with obvious excitement.

"Spark, no!" Ash called, but the salamander was already through the doors and out into the city streets.

The moment Spark reached the open plaza outside the Guild building, Ash accelerated. Her speed kicked in, covering the distance in a blur, but Spark had spotted her movement and reacted with startling intelligence. The salamander leaped straight up, claws finding purchase on the Guild building's decorative stonework, and began scaling the wall with casual ease.

Ash skidded to a halt at the base of the building, staring up at where Spark was now perched on a second-story ledge, looking down at her with what could only be described as smugness.

"That's not fair," she called up to the salamander. "I can't climb walls."

Spark chirped what sounded like agreement, then began moving horizontally along the building's facade, using architectural details as handholds.

The next hour became a masterclass in the challenges of pursuing a highly intelligent, wall-climbing, fire-breathing pet through the busy streets of Amaranth without causing mass panic or property damage.

Spark had discovered that the city was filled with interesting climbing opportunities. The salamander moved from building to building with casual ease, using decorative stonework, window ledges, and architectural details as a personal obstacle course. It could scale walls faster than Ash could run along the streets below, and it seemed to find the entire experience delightfully entertaining.

Whenever Ash found clear space to use her speed—an empty alley, a quiet plaza—Spark would immediately go vertical, putting itself beyond her reach. When the salamander came down to street level, it invariably chose crowded areas where super speed would endanger innocent bystanders.

"Excuse me," Ash called to a group of merchants who were staring up at their building's facade where Spark was currently perched. "I'm terribly sorry about this. My salamander got loose."

"Your salamander is eating our shop sign," one of the merchants replied, pointing at where Spark was indeed nibbling on the carved wooden letters.

"Spark!" Ash called up to the salamander. "Stop eating their sign!"

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Spark looked down at her, chirped what sounded like an acknowledgment, then deliberately took another bite of the wooden signage.

"I'll pay for damages," Ash said with resignation, adding another item to her growing mental list of salamander-related expenses.

The chase continued through the market district, where Spark discovered that fruit vendors' stalls contained numerous climbing opportunities and that many people dropped interesting food items when surprised by the appearance of a fire-breathing reptile.

"It's not dangerous!" Ash called to a group of shoppers who were backing away from where Spark was investigating a spilled basket of apples. "Just curious!"

"Curious fire-breathing creatures are still fire-breathing creatures," one of the shoppers replied, keeping a safe distance.

Spark, having determined that apples were not interesting, began climbing the nearest building again. This time it chose a three-story structure with elaborate decorative stonework that provided excellent handholds for a creature with claws.

Ash positioned herself at the base of the building and tried to think strategically. She could climb after Spark, but she wasn't as skilled at vertical movement as the salamander. She could try to predict where Spark would go next and intercept it at street level, but the salamander's route followed some internal logic that didn't translate to human thinking.

When Spark finally descended to investigate a fountain in a small plaza, Ash saw her chance. The area was relatively clear—just a few people walking through, no one close enough to be endangered. She accelerated, crossing the plaza in a blur, hands outstretched to catch the salamander.

Spark looked up at the last second, chirped in what sounded like delight at the game, and launched itself straight up toward the fountain's decorative spires. Ash's momentum carried her past the fountain entirely, and she had to brake hard to avoid crashing into the far wall.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered, turning to see Spark perched on the fountain's highest point, obviously pleased with its tactical superiority.

"Need help?" a voice asked behind her.

Ash turned to find a city guard watching the situation with the calm demeanor of someone who'd learned to accept the bizarre as routine in this city. The guard was a middle-aged man with the build of someone who spent a lot of time dealing with stubborn problems.

"My salamander escaped," Ash explained. "I'm trying to get it back without causing too much trouble."

"Fire salamander," the guard observed, watching Spark explore the building's upper decorative elements. "Those are regulated creatures. You have the proper permits?"

"All the proper permits," Ash confirmed quickly. "It just got loose this morning."

"Magical pet incidents fall under regulatory enforcement rather than emergency response," the guard said, consulting a small manual. "As long as the creature isn't threatening anyone and the owner has valid permits, my job is to document the incident and ensure public safety."

As if to demonstrate the point, Spark had discovered that the fountain contained decorative bronze fittings and was now attempting to gnaw on them while perched on a carved stone dolphin.

"Spark, no!" Ash called. "Don't eat the public art!"

The salamander looked down at her, chirped once, then squeezed through the dolphin's mouth opening to investigate the fountain's internal mechanics.

"Well," the guard said after a moment, "now it's property damage."

"It's not malicious property damage," Ash said desperately. "It just doesn't understand that decorative metalwork isn't food."

"Damage is damage, regardless of intent," the guard replied. "But since you have permits, this becomes an administrative matter rather than a criminal one."

A sound of industrious gnawing echoed from inside the fountain where Spark had disappeared.

"Though you should retrieve it before it causes more damage," the guard added helpfully.

"Spark!" Ash called, but the salamander was already emerging from a different decorative feature, having decided that the fountain's interior was less interesting than its exterior.

The next twenty minutes involved Spark leading them on a tour of the city's architectural features while Ash accumulated an impressive list of minor damages and public disturbances. The salamander had explored half a dozen buildings, sampled a dozen different signs and ornamental fixtures, singed several awnings, and caused a minor commotion in a bakery when it had attempted to sample the contents of their ovens.

"I think it's heading for the upper districts," the guard said, pointing to where Spark was now climbing toward the second tier of the city. "Those buildings have more complex architecture. More interesting climbing."

"More expensive architecture," Ash added grimly. "More expensive property damage."

"Look at it this way," the guard said. "At least it's not trying to eat anyone."

Spark had reached the second tier and was now exploring the gardens that surrounded the more affluent residential areas. The salamander seemed interested in a formal garden where sculpted hedges provided new climbing opportunities and decorative torches offered intriguing samples of artificial flame.

"Whose garden is this?" Ash asked, approaching the ornate gates that marked the entrance to the landscaped area.

"Magistrate Cawel's," the guard replied. "She's in charge of magical creature regulation enforcement."

"The magistrate who enforces magical creature regulations," Ash repeated faintly.

"That's right. She's very strict about compliance."

As if summoned by the mention of her name, a woman emerged from the garden's central pavilion. She was tall, elegantly dressed, and carried herself with the calm confidence of someone who was entirely used to being in charge.

"Is that a fire salamander in my garden?" she asked, her voice carrying the sort of calm that preceded explosions.

Ash could feel her headache growing.

"Yes," she admitted, because denying the obvious seemed counterproductive. "My salamander. It escaped."

Spark, having discovered that the magistrate's garden contained several small decorative fires, had decided to sample each one while perched on a carefully sculpted topiary.

"Your salamander is consuming my garden ornaments," Magistrate Cawel observed.

"I'll pay for replacements," Ash said quickly.

"Your salamander is also sitting on a topiary that took three years to achieve its current shape."

"I'll pay for topiary restoration too."

"Do you have your permits?"

"All of them," Ash confirmed. "Seventeen permits. Plus housing modifications, bonds, and dietary compliance licenses."

"Impressive," the magistrate said, her tone softening slightly. "Most people give up after the first few forms."

Spark, having finished consuming the garden's decorative flames, began investigating whether the sculpted hedges were edible. This investigation involved small puffs of flame that immediately scorched the carefully maintained greenery.

"Spark, stop eating the landscaping!" Ash called.

The salamander looked at her, chirped once, then deliberately took another bite of the hedge.

"Your salamander has opinions," Magistrate Cawel observed.

"Strong opinions," Ash agreed. "About everything."

"Intelligence is common in elemental salamanders," the magistrate said, approaching the topiary where Spark was perched. "They're problem solvers. They get bored easily."

"This one gets bored constantly," Ash confirmed. "It's probably been planning this escape for weeks."

Spark, recognizing that it was the center of attention, began showing off its climbing abilities by moving from topiary to topiary. Each movement was accompanied by small puffs of flame that left scorch marks on the carefully maintained garden.

"Spark, please come down," Ash called. "You're making this worse."

The salamander considered the request, then began climbing higher, leaving a trail of scorched greenery in its wake.

"It's not coming down," Magistrate Cawel observed.

"It's being dramatic," Ash said with resignation. "It knows it's in trouble, so it's making the most of the situation."

"Intelligent and dramatic," the magistrate mused. "That's a dangerous combination in a fire salamander."

Spark, having reached the fountain's highest point, turned to look at them with obvious pride in its climbing accomplishments. Then it opened its mouth and breathed out a celebratory stream of flame that immediately set fire to the decorative banners that hung from the fountain's stonework.

"And now it's arson," Magistrate Cawel said with the sort of calm that suggested she'd reached the limits of her patience.

"Accidental arson," Ash corrected desperately. "It doesn't understand that banners are flammable."

"Property damage is property damage, regardless of intent," the magistrate replied. "Guard, please escort Ms...?"

"Ash," she supplied weakly.

"Please escort Ms. Ash and her salamander to the administrative offices. We'll need to review her permits and discuss compliance measures."

Spark, realizing that the situation had become serious, finally began climbing down from the fountain. But instead of coming to Ash, it scampered toward the garden's far wall where it began investigating new climbing opportunities.

"Spark!" Ash called, but the salamander was already scaling the wall with renewed enthusiasm.

"This is going to be a long day," the guard observed.

"The longest," Ash agreed, watching their pet explore the city's architectural features with obvious delight while leaving a trail of minor destruction in its wake.

The chase was far from over, but at least now they had official supervision

Two hours later, Ash sat in Magistrate Cawel's office with a salamander on her lap, a stack of incident reports on the desk, and a growing appreciation for how quickly a simple pet escape could become a bureaucratic nightmare.

"Property damage: one decorative fountain, six shop signs, twelve window awnings, two vendor stalls, one topiary garden, approximately thirty feet of ornamental hedge, and various roof tiles displaced during climbing activities," the magistrate read from her notes. "Estimated costs: two hundred and forty gold pieces."

"Two hundred and forty gold pieces," Ash repeated numbly.

"Plus administrative fees for the emergency response, permit review, and compliance assessment." Magistrate Cawel consulted another document. "Another eighty gold pieces."

"Three hundred and twenty gold pieces total," Ash calculated.

"For one morning's adventure," the magistrate confirmed. "I've seen worse, but not by much."

Spark, exhausted by its morning of exploration, was now sleeping peacefully in Ash's lap, making small chirping sounds that suggested it was dreaming of climbing buildings and eating decorative flames.

"The good news," Magistrate Cawel continued, "is that your permits are all in order, your housing modifications appear adequate, and your salamander's behavior, while destructive, doesn't suggest malicious intent."

"The bad news?" Ash asked, though she was afraid to hear it.

"Your salamander is clearly too intelligent and energetic for standard containment measures. You'll need enhanced security modifications to your housing, plus a formal exercise and enrichment plan to prevent future escapes."

"More housing modifications," Ash said faintly.

"And regular behavioral assessments to ensure your salamander isn't developing destructive tendencies." The magistrate smiled with sympathy. "Welcome to advanced pet ownership, Ms. Ash."

"Advanced pet ownership," Ash repeated.

"It's expensive," the magistrate agreed. "But look at it this way—at least your salamander didn't try to eat anyone."

As if responding to the comment, Spark opened one eye, looked at Magistrate Cawel with obvious interest, then closed its eye again and resumed sleeping.

"Yet," the magistrate added thoughtfully.

"Yet," Ash agreed with resignation.

Their quiet academic morning had become a very expensive lesson in salamander psychology, city regulations, and the importance of properly securing door latches.

She had a feeling the others were going to have opinions about this development.

Strong opinions.

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