Chapter Seven: To Find a Dragon

"Huntsgirl, what do you see?"

"It looks like a krylock. Very rare, master," I replied. This was my first night out with the Huntsmaster, and much to my mixed dismay and pleasure, he had decided to take me out alone; it showed that he trusted me, yet at the same time, I couldn't help being displeased with the fact that, if any magical creature came along, I would be expected to do the slaying – exactly what I had previously decided I would never do again.

"Very good. Now, you have the vial I gave you?" he asked. I nodded, knowing where he was going with this. We needed more krylock venom for the Academy's stores. Naturally, it came down upon the upper-level apprentices to fetch it; the masters couldn't be bothered with the task, and nor could the novices or younger apprentices be trusted to come back with anything of value. Apparently middle-ground was perfection here. And, of course, the Huntsmaster jumped at the chance for me to face the krylock – he had wanted to watch me face a real threat ever since I had been apprenticed to him.

Gripping my staff more tightly, I replied, "No need to say any more, master."

With that, I leaped down from our perch atop a fire escape onto the roof of the next building over, where the krylock was deviously eying a group of leprechauns that were passing below. It didn't hear me as I landed softly on the edge of the building, aiming my staff carefully; with any luck, I would be able to stun with one blow, get the venom, and be done.

But, then again, when have things ever worked out properly for me?

Oh, yes, I hit my mark. But as it turns out, the fight wasn't going to end there as I thought it would. No, that would have been too easy. Instead, all the blast of energy from my staff did was anger the thing. And trust me, angering a krylock is not something you want to do.

The demon turned on me, crying out in pain as the energy I had shot it with still crackled about its body. I flinched slightly, then bunched my legs beneath me and prepared to spring out of the way as it began to charge at me. Not a second too soon, I sprang upward, flipping head-over-heels over the krylock, and blasting at it again as I came down. Luckily, after this attack, the creature moved no more, finally stunned. All that was left to do was to collect the venom.

As I took a few steps toward the creature, I self-consciously glanced up toward the Huntsmaster. I don't know why. Perhaps there was still a small bit inside of me that wished to do well, to be praised by him – him above all others, though my hatred for him burned strong as anything.

Surely that was it, because I ducked my head in embarrassment when he gave no acknowledgement of my dangerous feat; instead, he merely nodded, turned away, and disappeared into the dark of the night.

I made my way back to the hideout alone. Very alone.

But maybe alone was good. It allowed me to concentrate. And no, not just concentrate on how much I hated my life, but on…other things. Things concerning the uses of krylock venom. And bat guano, troll belches…all together in a potion.

A portal spell. That was the answer to finding the American Dragon. And it would only take me a night to complete, now that I had krylock venom. The spell would be the easy part. What would the hard part be, you ask? What was the hard part, then? My heart. Simple as that.

Sure, I needed to find and talk to Rose. But what did I want above all else?

Truthfully, I wanted a lot.

A part of me wanted to talk to the pink dragon that the Huntsclan had cornered the night my parents were killed. I was sure that she could answer so many questions I had about that night, and all it would take would be for me to call out here name: Haley Long.

A different part of me wanted to head back to Florida and kick my previous masters' Hunts-butts – pardon the pun. Sorry, but I just never liked them.

But perhaps my strongest want was to see 74 again. Before…it really wasn't a proper good-bye. It shouldn't have even been a good-bye at all! If we were…normal, not marked…tainted by our birthmarks, maybe things would have worked out between us. If I went to him, we could run away, far away, back into the blissful innocence we both had when we met at the age of nine:

A girl walked into a seemingly empty room, glancing about fearfully. It took her a while to notice that she was not alone; a boy, who looked like he was her age, stared curiously at her from the top of a bunk bed near the back of the room. As her gaze met up with his, a good-natured grin spread across his face, and he blurted out, "Hey there! You must be that new girl the Huntsmaster rescued earlier. Are you staying here now? 'Cause if you are, that's awesome. It's been so lonely being alone."

The words went by very quickly, and it took the girl a moment to register what he had said to her. Then she replied, "He…did rescue me then? Are you sure?"

"Yeah, of course," said the boy, flipping down off of the bed to land cat-like on his feet. " Him and my parents and all the other masters talk all the time about those stupid dragons that attack people. That's why we're here, all of us. To protect people from those kinds of creatures. And one day I'm going to be Huntsmaster too."

His chest puffed out pridefully, and the girl couldn't help but laugh. The boy stared incredulously at her for a moment, then asked, quite seriously, "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, nothing," said the girl, still chuckling. She set down her pitifully small bag of belongings – which contained nothing significant but her new uniform – and went on, "So, what's your name?"

"I'm number 74."

"No, your real name.."

"Um…" Clearly the question was bothering him. There was a long pause before he answered, "I guess I don't really have a real name. At least not now. But I think my parents used to call me Larkin."

At this, the girl erupted into laughter again; any sorrow or apprehensiveness she had felt before had simply evaporated.

"What's so funny this time?" asked the boy again, clearly amazed at how giggly and…girly, this girl was.

"Your name sounds funny. Larkin. Ha!"

"I don't suppose your name is any better," he said, lowering his chin in slight embarrassment.

"I'm Kara," she said, an inexplicable smile growing on her face. The boy raised his chin again and replied, "That's a nice name…"

That meeting was my light at the end of the tunnel…except after that day, I had turned around and gone back into the darkness. And now, what I would give to go back to the light…to see him, to see my sweetly singing Lark, as I had come to call him.

But maybe that would be asking too much.

And so, the next day, when I stood in the apothecary of the Huntslair, portal spell floating in front of me, my next words were resolute.

"Show me the American Dragon."

A scene materialized before me; the dragon was flying over New York, which was only natural – at this time, he ought to be doing his rounds of the city, looking out for…well, people like me, Huntsclan. With a deep breath, I leaped forward, through the portal, and latched myself on the only thing as high up as the dragon was – the dragon himself.

"Yo, girl, how did you…?" he exclaimed. Apparently my "surprise attack" startled him. "Get off me, Hunts-punk!"

"Oh yes, and plummet – oh, I don't know, it looks like at least one hundred feet – to my death? Brilliant idea, dragon," I shot back. Honestly, must all dragons I face call me Hunts-punk? It was getting to be quite irritating, to say the least. "Oh, and by the way, you're starting to fall. I can tell. You have wings, don't you? Use them, dragon, or we're both going to crash into a building or something."

He didn't answer, again, not surprisingly. Instead he had reached a clawed hand back to grasp my leg – the only bit of me he could reach – and started pulling on it. At this, I reached up and pulled on his left ear, an action that was answered by an, admittedly, pleasing screech of pain, and hissed, "I'm not here to slay you, idiot. In case you haven't noticed, I haven't got any of my weapons with me."

Something I said must have gotten to him, because he abruptly pulled up and started vigorously flapping his wings. I breathed a soft sigh of relief as the buildings below became smaller, and the clouds became closer.

"You're Huntsgirl, aren't you?" asked the dragon suddenly.

I really didn't want to answer that…but I did anyway. Sort of. "So what if I am?"

"Well, why are you…I don't know, on my back, if you don't mean to slay me? Isn't that, you know, your sort of thing?" he asked. God, this dragon was acting stupid. Did he learn nothing from marrying Rose? Didn't he realize that some of us "Hunts-punks" weren't as happy with the Huntsclan as he thought?

"Just...take me somewhere we can talk."

Neither one of us said another word after that until we reached his home. When we landed, my heart skipped a beat as I realized that I was just steps away from meeting the only person to successfully leave the Huntsclan: Rose, Betrayer of the Clan, and my new shining light.