In the grand scheme of things, Haley only sort of knows what she's doing.
It's an arguably stupid plan, entirely too risky, and might backfire completely on her, but she also might only have one shot at this, and she has to take it.
Convincing Marty to let her go without waiting for Fu to pick her up had been an important step, even though the occasional feeling of being watched—without the prickling terror she associates with danger—makes her think he didn't drop her off without tipping off his own network and making sure they're watching her back.
It's a comfort, really, considering what she plans to do, but he must have suspected that, too, or he wouldn't have left her where he did.
Haley doesn't know where to find the Huntsclan, but she does know how to get to the Pantheon from Central Park—the south side, no less—so she goes to the rooftop and waits.
Jake will have an easier time of all of this if only one side is searching for him, and she'd much rather the searchers be the Dragon Council than the Huntsclan. But the Huntsclan is looking, which means Huntsgirl will also be looking, which means Haley doesn't need to stay in her dragon form and keep a target on her back; she just needs to be conspicuous enough that Huntsgirl will notice her, realize who she is, and come check things out.
Preferably, she'll be alone, and Haley can tell her everything, trusting that Huntsgirl's friendship with Jake will once again be greater than her desire to stab Haley in the back, and they'll figure out a proper plan together.
If she's not, that's when Haley will have to pull out the skull.
She's fairly confident that even if Huntsgirl and any potential companion don't know the skull on sight, its magic will be strong enough for them to feel it. Huntsgirl, anyway. Haley can't imagine that they're not trained to feel magic, and Huntsgirl must be good at it if she's Huntsgirl. But even someone who's not Huntsgirl should be able to feel the skull; Haley can feel it practically vibrating with magic through the layers of cloth that protect it.
Not that it needs much protecting as it's currently indestructible, but if the Huntsclan doesn't know that already, she's not going to be careless enough to tip them off.
She wonders if the skull somehow knows where it is. Not in the sense that it's sentient—it's not—but powerful magic calls to powerful magic, and this place….
The magic within the crystal skull might well know how close she is to one of the places it needs to be in order to be activated.
Is the skull's magic stronger here, or does it just feel stronger because she's nervous and no longer wrapped in Marty's protective magic?
Haley sits between two of the gargoyles and hugs the backpack Marty lent her to her chest, trying to rest while she still can. It's dark now, but the city below and the towers rising beside her have as much light as shadow. She knows the city so well from above, knows its various blind spots and the best hiding spots, not to mention a good swath of the magical map that overlays what she can see in her mind. The Pot O' Gold Import-Export isn't far from here, so it might be the nearest of the permanent places. That's not counting things like the unicorns' favourite place to graze in Central Park, of course, or that new pixie colony she heard rumours about (she hasn't found the time to touch base with them and confirm it), but she should know the city better than anyone in her class.
She certainly knows it better than Olivia Mears.
Sadly, Olivia would have as good a chance at finding the Huntsclan's secret academy as Haley does, because no amount of searching has ever turned it up.
Haley can't really believe that none of the magical creatures she's met know nothing, but she can understand that fear can buy silence.
She knows greed can sometimes buy what fear cannot, too.
It makes her sick, thinking that some magical creatures might turn on others so easily, but they'd hardly think of it as helping the Huntsclan. Forgetting that they saw something here, turning a blind eye to something there, making a little extra money on the side to muddy the facts every once in a while— Bananas B would do it. Everyone at that blasted poker game would do it. They weren't unique.
Haley blinks and then reaches up one arm to wipe the tears from her eyes. She wants this to work. She does. But that doesn't make doing this easier. If she's wrong—
No.
Huntsgirl didn't tell the Huntsclan about her before. She's got an advantage, and she's too good not to press it now that Haley's offering her the opportunity to do so. She'll come.
She will come.
She has to.
Haley waits, and frets, and grows colder despite her inner fire because she's not moving and the wind up here ensures it's not a warm night to those sitting as still as stone. The conviction that she's making a mistake only grows, but giving up feels like she's giving up on Jake, too, and she can't. Huntsgirl may not know where her brother is, but he's her friend. She'll help. She must.
Even so, Haley has nearly convinced herself this won't work by the time she hears the thump of someone else landing on the roof, and she lets out a shaky breath as she turns away from the city sprawled around her. "I thought you—"
The words freeze in her throat as she sees the silhouette of the one who has joined her, and she has to swallow down the bile that's risen in her throat.
It's not Huntsgirl who stands there.
It's the Huntsmaster himself.
Haley shrinks back on instinct, catching the side of the building, and leans back despite herself. It's hard to breathe, hard to think, but she manages to swallow past the lump of fear in her throat. "Y-you—" She can't form the right words.
She doesn't know what the right words are.
What should she say?
"You thought I what?" asks the Huntsmaster, his voice low but steady and strong enough to send shivers down her spine, and Haley's only response is to tense up and tighten her grip on the backpack.
He notices, of course.
He's the Huntsmaster.
He's two seconds away from realizing she's the American Dragon, but he's not two seconds away from realizing she's carrying precious cargo.
He closes the distance between them with his long strides, and Haley can't move. She can't run, she can't call out her wings and fly, she can't even jump off the roof and hope that the shadows will swallow her up and hide her. He's on her too fast, ripping the backpack from her arms and ignoring her stuttering protests.
"Don't worry." He sounds amused, and it makes her skin crawl. "If you've brought me something useful, I'll see that you're paid."
"I—" She needs to say something. Anything. She can't let him have the skull. "I changed my mind." She tries to reach out with her senses to feel if that's enough to alert Marty, but there isn't time. She can't focus, can't pin anything down before it flutters away with her nerves. There's magic here, but she's here, and the skull's here, and the gargoyles might have some too if they're a place the skulls can be united—
Will the Huntsmaster notice her magic?
Will he notice Marty's?
Will he think to look for it, or will he think it's because of the skull, because of their location, because they're close enough to Central Park that fading strains of magic can drift on the wind like a lost melody?
"Too late for that." The Huntsmaster pulls out the skull, and she doesn't need to see his face to know that he's smiling. "You have exactly what I've been looking for."
This isn't how this is supposed to go.
The skull is supposed to be her bargaining chip. The leverage she needs to get what she wants. She's not supposed to lose it like this. She can't.
How is she going to get it back? It's not like she can beat him in a fight. She certainly can't hope to beat him in a fight without using her dragon powers, and then she's as good as telling him exactly how to best her.
He drops the backpack and cradles the skull in one hand long enough to open his satchel with the other before securing the skull inside and adjusting the bag beneath his cloak. She tracks every movement, trying to figure out if there's any way she can steal the bag back without getting killed in the process. When he reaches into his pocket, she thinks she's somehow given herself away and that he's about to draw a knife, but instead, he pulls out a bulging leather pouch. He tosses it in her direction, but she fumbles the catch and it lands at her feet with a distinct clink.
"There's a pretty penny in there," he says when she doesn't move. He eyes her up and down, and she wonders if he can see her terror and desperation written all over her face. There's something of a smile in his voice as he adds, "I'd take your cut before you hand over the rest. Your boss doesn't strike me as particularly trustworthy. I didn't expect to find anyone here tonight."
He thinks she's working for someone. Someone who's selling stolen magical artefacts to the Huntsclan. She's not sure if he knows she's a magical creature and doesn't care right now because she's given him something he thinks is more valuable than she is—is the skull more valuable than she is? It must be, at least from his perspective; she can be replaced—or if he thinks she's just some naïve kid who's been paid for the drop.
She should let him go thinking whatever he's thinking and be thankful her hide is intact, but—
She can't.
She needs the skull back.
She at least needs a way to get the skull back.
She could destroy the Pantheon Gargoyles when he leaves, but that would only drive the Huntsclan to find another suitable place, and she'd be further behind than she is now. Even if Marty knows of other places they might have gone, it won't tell her which location they'd choose.
"I don't need your money," she says, and she manages to will her foot to the kick the bag back towards him. It doesn't even close half the distance before rolling to a stop. "I want something else instead."
He laughs. "I think your boss will disagree, but by all means, keep talking. What do you want?"
Haley's mind is blank, but somehow, her mouth says the words, "I want to join you."
It's ridiculous.
There is absolutely no way the Huntsclan would let a dragon join them. They'd check. They must check. There are too many magical creatures who can pass as human for them to not have some way of checking their potential initiates.
The Huntsmaster considers her, and she has to fight to keep still under his gaze, catching hold of her fingers and tangling her hands together before nervous tapping can give her away. She doesn't know what he sees. She's terrified he'll see the truth, realize that her shaking isn't merely from the cold, realize who she is, what she is—
"Do you have any information?"
"I—" She doesn't know what he wants. "Information?"
"About the magical world." There's a trace of impatience in his voice, and it sends a new flood of ice down her spine. She doesn't know if she wants Marty to show up or to stay far, far away. "And I don't just mean the identity of your boss."
Haley swallows. "That makes sense. My boss's identity isn't worth anything to you. You probably know it already anyway."
The bravado, false though it is, wins her a chuckle. "That I do. But I don't know you. What are you?"
"Human." She doesn't know if he can taste the lie that is so bitter on her tongue. "But I know about this other world. That's how I ended up here."
"Human," he repeats, and it's not openly skeptical, but she's not sure he believes her. She doesn't want him to start testing her. She's sure it would take him a while to get to something she'd react to as a dragon, but the entire process is too risky.
"I know stuff. People talk around kids because they don't see us. I— I know the truth about wizards like Eli Pandarus." What other names can she remember from Fu's stories? There's nothing, even though Fu is always talking, always dropping names into his stories. Why can't she think? "I know magical creatures are real. And I know— I know what they're really like."
It's not quite a lie—she does know what magical creatures are really like, far better than the Huntsmaster should—but she hopes it sounds enough like what the Huntsmaster wants to hear that he won't question it.
"I want to join you," she says again, and she has to bite her tongue at the temptation to plead, to beg. She doesn't know if it would help or hurt her case, and she doesn't….
She doesn't want to.
This is the Huntsmaster.
Even talking to him is making her queasy.
"You are aware there are official channels? An application process?"
She isn't.
Is that how they recruit people who aren't the target of vicious magical creatures? She knows she's failed in protecting humans from magical creatures a few times just as she has in protecting magical creatures from humans; the scope of the responsibility is too large not to have made mistakes, even with the extensive network Gramps and Fu have built when it came to covering off the position of the American Dragon. Even once she's older and can fully embrace her role, she'll still need to rely upon that network.
But that network isn't perfect, and she knows that some of those who slip through the cracks must find their way to the Huntsclan.
She doesn't know where the others come from, though.
This application process, apparently.
Do they really pretend to be a prestigious academy to lure people in? Does that work? Or do they only prey on people who are victims or otherwise down on their luck and vulnerable, looking for the security of a group?
What can she do to make the Huntsclan not look like a golden opportunity to escape whatever terrible thing someone is facing in their life?
"The Huntsmaster's recommendation would go a long way towards approval," she says, and her voice only shakes a little bit.
Another huff of laughter from him. "You might yet get it. Who were you expecting?"
The question catches her off guard. "What?"
"Who were you expecting? It wasn't me."
"Huntsgirl," Haley admits after a beat. She doesn't know what else to say, what the acceptable answer might be, and she doubts the truth is more dangerous than an ill-informed guess. "I thought Huntsgirl would come."
"You did, did you?"
Haley nods and tries not to fidget.
"And here I thought you were proud of having your ear to the ground."
Oh, no.
Haley doesn't know what happened, but she knows something happened.
"It seems news outside of the Huntsclan hasn't been travelling as fast as within it."
Haley wants to ask if Huntsgirl is okay.
She doesn't.
"You won't be seeing Huntsgirl tonight. If you were promised her—or a guaranteed initiate position—then you've been lied to."
Haley finds herself staring at her feet, and the money back is nudged back into her field of vision by the Huntsmaster's toe.
"Take the money." There's a pause, but when she doesn't move, he asks, "What's your name?"
"Olivia," whispers Haley, deciding it's worth the risk to look up at him again. "Olivia Mears." She can't quite make out his eyes beneath the shadow of his helmet.
Or skull, more like.
It's a dragon's skull.
It's not worn for protection; it's worn as intimidation. A warning. A threat.
"Olivia Mears," repeats the Huntsmaster. One hand disappears into his jacket again, an inner breast pocket she thinks, but instead of a weapon, he pulls out a piece of paper and holds it out to her. Her hand is shaking when she takes it, but he doesn't comment on it. "I'll look for your application. But a word of advice?"
"Y-yes?"
"Those who betray their masters once are more likely to do so again, and betrayal is not acceptable in the Huntsclan. If you value your life, think carefully about who you stab in the back."
Haley reaches down to pick up the money bag and clutches it to her chest. "I understand," she says, and she needs to fight the urge to run again as he looks at her in silence.
After an eternity, he nods and takes his leave. She watches him go, but with her human eyes alone, she loses him all too quickly in the dark.
Betrayal is not acceptable in the Huntsclan.
Had the Huntsclan found out that Huntsgirl had once captured and released her? Was that seen as a betrayal? Had she been caught helping Jake? Or had the Huntsmaster not been warning Haley against following in Huntsgirl's footsteps but merely warning her against what he suspected was her ignoring her orders and not turning over the payment to the one he believes to be her master?
He couldn't have suspected the truth about her. He couldn't have known who she really was. Even if Huntsgirl had been captured, she still hadn't told them what Haley looked like. She mustn't have.
The Huntsmaster wouldn't have let Haley go if he'd known she was the American Dragon.
Right?