Now, if there was one thing the hunters of the Valiant had learned over the years, it was that you couldn't kill a beast from on the ship. This was why the harpooners, which included me, tied ourselves to ropes fastened to metal bars on the Main Deck, and stood on a ledge that jutted out of the hull for this exact purpose, our weapons poised, shoulders tense, waiting. I'd been feeling Snake's eyes following me for the past half hour that I'd been in command of the ship, and the one time I'd dared glance at him, he'd allowed me a small smile. I figured that meant I was doing alright.

And even as I reassured myself with the fact that I'd done this hundreds of times before, I was worried. As the current Captain, it was my responsibility to make sure no one died on the job. My preceder, a burly young buck named Mistel, had failed at this. Yes, he'd made sure that none of his charges died, but in doing so, he'd forgotten to watch out for himself. No one talked about Mistel, but he was on all of our minds that day. No one had taken this test in five years because of him. I'd been the First Mate for three of them. Today was a new beginning. If I passed this test, the fear of meeting the same fate as Mistel would lift. I knew that Captain Snake was close to Mistle, and I supposed that's why it took him two years to choose a new first mate. Why in Natalia, he chose me, I didn't know. All I knew was that I wasn't making Mistel's mistake that day, and no one could convince me otherwise.

So, as the sea erupted in front of us, I gave the order with renewed vigor.

"Fire!" The crew lept into action, throwing harpoons like Javelines. I threw mine, aiming for the eye of the Sandskin thrashing about in front of us, now held by the lines attached to larger harpoons launched from the Gun Deck. The kill was off to a good start, I decided, but kept my guard up anyway. A seven ton Sandskin was nothing to sneeze at. Sandskins were one of the smaller types of dragon–like creatures that roamed the Natalian oceans, but they were large all the same. And the Blacksmiths and Armor Makers at First Warren Palace paid good money for a Sandskin hide. They were exactly as the name described, with skin as rough as sand and tales with poisonous barbs on the ends. The tail-barbs came off at a good price, and even though I'd heard talk of the awful things the Preylords who bought them used them for, I wasn't ashamed. I was making a living, what was my hunting to their choices about how to use them?

The Sandskin's infamous tail whipped towards us harpooners on the ledge as the Beast struggled, and we jumped to avoid the swinging projectile. A barb broke off and stuck into the side of the hull just above my head and I chided myself for being careless as the tail came back, thrashing about in a frenzy of pain and fear. I ducked, making sure my shipmates did so as well, and popped back up, surveying the situation with keen eyes. The thick ropes holding the Sandskin in place were doing their job rightly, but the hull was groaning in protest, as it often did when we hunted, so it didn't bother me. The Beast was getting close enough to the ship that most of the hunters were retreating back to the Main Deck, faces anxious, but not me.

I can tell you now that what I did was stupid. But all I saw then was that the Sandskin's massive body was close enough for me to jump, and that its neck was exposed enough for me to deliver a killing blow. And so I did exactly that, leaping with perfect accuracy and stabbing as quickly as though I were scuering a piece of fruit with a fork. The Beast thrashed for a few seconds longer, me holding onto my deep-sunk harpoon for dear life, and went still. I stood, steadying myself, and yanking my harpoon out of the beast's neck. On the ship next to me, a roar of approval from my crew carried over the still ocean and rolled over the water. When I climbed the ladder back onto the ship, I was overwhelmed by cheering people, laughing and shouting and making noises of amazment.

"Ya' did it!"

"I told ye she would, didn't I, ye daft Sprog!"

"Never seen anything like it!"

"Ye sure ye parents weren't hunters, Jenkins?"

I was doing my best to thank the rabbits surrounding me, but failing. I was afraid I was going to be deaf by the time this ordeal was done, when the crowd arround me went silent, and parted to reveal Snake stocking towards me, looking very, very angry. I resisted the urge to flinch under his intense gaze, and waited silently as he reached me, so that we were standing inches apart. He was nearly a head taller than me, and I had to look up to see his face.

"Lass," He growled, and I flinched involuntarily, even though I'd so successfully resisted doing so moments before. "What ye did down there was insolent, arrogant, and could've very well killed us all." Twelve years on a hunting ship will toughen you up, but it was taking a very large amount of my willpower not to burst into tears. Snake could be terrifying when he wanted to be.

"But," He continued. "It was also near to a mirror image a' what I did on me initiation kill. And me Father, bless his soul, told me exactly what I just told ye. An' then he announced that I'd passed with flyin' colors."

My heart lept.

"Crew of the Valiant," Snake bellowed. "Ackowledge yer future Captain!"

.

.

.

"It's taken us a while, Prince Smallden, but we believe we've found your sister."

"You're sure?"

"Very."

"Good work, Lieutenant Bristol."

"She's changed her last name, and she's a hunter on the Valiant. The hunters are a stubborn bunch, Your Grace."

"Yes, I've heard as much."

"She won't come quietly."

"Well, I don't plan on forcing her into it, Lieutenant. She can make the choice."

"But if she refuses, she's a traitor."

"I think she has every right to refuse. How long has she been with Captain Snake?"

"Twelve years."

"Then she might as well be with her family. If she refuses, I say there's nothing we can do."

"I suppose not."

"I'd like a party put together, and we'll leave for Yorkstein Harbor tomorrow morning."

"Of course, Prince."

"You're dismissed, Lieutenant."