Chapter Eight: Trust

"So that's it, huh?"

"I knew I had to find you, talk to you. I need help." As much as I hate getting help from a dragon of all people, I added silently. I'd spend the good part of the night explaining my life story (or at least the parts I could remember) to the American Dragon – not something I could have ever imagined doing, nor something I took any pleasure in. The first light of dawn was beginning to peek over the building tops and my absence from the Huntslair would be noted, but I made no move to leave. I wasn't going back – not then, anyway.

"Help from a dragon?" he said, a skeptical tone to his voice. As I looked into his eyes, I knew he wasn't going to make this easy for me. He didn't trust me any more than I trusted him. His gaze traveled from my eyes, to my clenched fists, to the dragon skull helmet that I was wearing. Truthfully, I'd just forgotten to take it off, but the dragon seemed to take offense at it; and if I wasn't mistaken, he gave a little shudder of familiarity as he stared at the skull, as if he recognized the face it had once been behind. After the longest time, he went on, "Why? You seem to have chosen your loyalties already, Huntsgirl."

I could only stare incredulously at him. How could he possibly suggest that I was still loyal to the Huntsclan after what I'd found out? "You don't trust me. Fine then, dragon. Fine. I'll be going now."

I should have expected nothing more from a filthy dragon. As much as I hated the Huntsclan now, I hated dragons more. Selfish, violent, stupid creatures, the lot of them. I'd begun to turn away when I felt a claw on my shoulder and heard his voice next to my ear. "Now, Huntsgirl. What made you think you could trust me?"

At this, I just stared at him. Something about the tone of his voice paralyzed me, not in fear, but in curiosity. I wanted to make him understand. I had to make him understand.

"I'm a dragon," he said. I nodded.

"You've never met me before," he went on. I nodded again.

"For all you know, I – "

"I have no one else to trust. That's why." The words just sort of came out, but every ounce of truth left in me echoed out of them. But even I was surprised at the bitter resentment in my voice. In a time when I thought I couldn't break anymore, I shattered. I lost myself. I just…lost. "Do you think I want to slay you, dragon? I don't. I just…don't. I can't do this anymore. I know you don't trust me, but you have to help me. I can't go back. I just can't."

His next words surprised me more than anything.

"I trust you."

My eyes, where tears had begun to form, turned to look at the dragon; where a red-scaled creature once stood, a spiky-haired man looked back at me, and just beyond him, I could see another familiar shape. Though they were both years older, the pair was recognizable – Jake Long, the American Dragon, and the former Huntsgirl and betrayer of the Clan, now Rose Long. Both looked on with hints of sorrow in their eyes. But behind Rose's sorrow was a mask of distrust and anger.

"Well, I don't," she said brusquely, her blue eyes narrowing. "Jake, can't you see that skull? Don't you recognize the shape?"

She turned to look at Jake, as did I. Not surprisingly, he nodded, murmuring weakly, "It was hers. Juliet's."

I didn't know who Juliet was to them, but I couldn't ignore the way they both looked at me then, as if I were something vile, something to be hated. And I could tell that Rose did hate me.

It seemed like an eternity passed while her blue gaze bore into me, forcing all the hurt that was eating away at Rose into my own heart. I felt her pain, and in some strange, unspoken way, I was her pain.

Finally, she took a few steps toward me, halting an arm's length away. Her hand was resting in her jeans pocket, and I tensed as she drew out a single photograph. She stared at it for the longest time, her expression stony, before she finally handed it over to me without saying a word. She turned away and walked back to stand next to Jake. Though her back was turned to me, I could hear her stifled breathing and knew she was close to tears.

The picture was of a young girl. A smile was blooming upon her face as she reached up to pet the mane of a unicorn. I turned the picture over, where there was a caption: Juliet Rose Long, age 6, Magus Petting Zoo.

I couldn't move, and so I stood there, staring, wishing I could just disappear. I could just barely hear Jake, whispering in Rose's ear, "We still have Brad."

A sudden scuffling caught my attention, as well as Jake's and Rose's. In a flash of blue, Jake changed into his dragon form and dove over the edge of the building. Rose and I stared apprehensively at each other. After a moment, Jake became visible, flapping back to land on the rooftop, holding a struggling green bundle upside down by the leg who was protesting…loudly.

"Stupid dragon! Give me back my staff so I can – hello, what have we here?"

As you might have guessed, the "green bundle" happened to be a fellow Huntsclan apprentice. One I hadn't seen in quite some time. And he now had the smuggest look on his face. I hated it.

"So, the American Dragon, the Betrayer, and who's this?" he said, pointing at each of us in turn. "A traitor, no doubt. I could hear you, number…"

"It's Huntsgirl, actually…" I said. "And you're number…"

"It's Huntsboy, actually," he said, that same arrogant look on his face. "The Huntsmaster's going to be very interested in hearing about this, Huntsgirl."

I looked into his eyes for a moment, almost wishing that I was wrong, and that this really wasn't who I thought it was.

But I couldn't ignore that familiar twinkle in his eye.

"But you won't tell him. I know you," I said. I made a point of walking meaningfully toward him, moving forward until my face was next to his so that I could feel his warm breath on my face. It felt good. "And you know me."

He seemed to flinch for a moment, confused, but then went on stubbornly, "No, I don't. I don't associate with traitors."

"Really, now?" I said, a playful tone to my voice. I turned about, took a few steps, and three over my shoulder, "You did say you would see me in the field someday."

"Kara?"

Bingo. It took him long enough.

He finally stopped struggling, and I nodded at Jake to put him down. Once he was standing, I could get a good look at him. Though we were both older, he was still recognizable as number 74. As Larkin. As a friend.

"Kara, what are you doing here? Talking to this…dragon? And her." He was staring at Rose, a look of deep contempt on his face.

I smirked at him. "I thought you could hear us."

"Well…" he said, looking away. "It was kind of hard listening from the fire escape."

At that moment, I couldn't hold myself back anymore. Almost leaping forward, I hugged him. Hard. And I didn't let go.

"Kara! What are you hugging me for?"

Yeah, he started to struggle again. I didn't care. It just made me laugh. "Because you're…you. I haven't seen you in so long."

"Yeah, I…I guess not," he said, softly. I finally let go and took a step or two back, just to look at him again. He seemed really uneasy about something. He went on, "Is it true? All of it?"

I nodded.

It was probably hard for him to hear. As long as I had known him, he had hero-worshipped the Huntsmaster, wanted to be like him. But after listening to me, he probably didn't want to even look at the Huntsmaster anymore.

"You're just going to have to trust me on this, Lark," I said, placing a hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at it blankly. "And I'm going to have to trust you not to tell anyone. Not yet."

He nodded, looked over at me, and, against the tension of the moment, smiled.

Things never looked so bright.