Dragonslayer

My knuckles are bruised and someone just threw a bottle at my head, but there’s $10,000 in my pocket and the bottle missed, so today is off to a decent start. The adrenaline in my veins has me itching to join the fight, but I can’t risk someone stealing my money. I back towards the door instead and almost trip onto the street when a tall woman with a scar across her face rams into me. I turn with a scowl. “Hey, watch it!”

She glares down at me. “Dragonslayer,” she spits. “Your kind isn’t welcome here.”

I’m ready to give her a piece of my mind—and maybe my fists—but she turns sharply and disappears into the fray. I hear the telltale crunch of barstool on bone and hurry out the door instead. I really have got to find better meeting places.

I draw in a deep breath as I stroll down the sidewalk. Most people wouldn’t find the Philadelphia air particularly refreshing, but I spent the better part of the morning stuck inside that bar, getting dizzy from cigar smoke and beer fumes, haggling with the asshole who tried to cheat me out of our agreed-upon price. He threatened to report me, but I punched him before he could leave with my money. Come to think of it, that’s probably what started the fight in the first place. If people stopped trying to swindle known dragonslayers, the world would be a much more peaceful place.

Of course, if the world didn’t have dragons at all, it would be pretty peaceful too. That’s where I come in.

I turn around a corner and the smell of pancakes always emanating from Cynthia’s, my favorite diner, wafts over me. I push through the door, the cheery bell at the door announcing my arrival. I pause to wave at Cynthia before hurrying to my usual back corner booth. As soon as Asher sees me heading his way, he jumps to his feet and wraps me in a hug so tight, he lifts me off the ground. “Kayla!”

I laugh, the sound muffled by his shoulder. “Missed you too.”

“It was four days,” Evan says flatly from where he’s still seated in the booth. “And you two were texting the whole time.”

“But I missed her!” Asher sets me back on my feet. “I missed you,” he adds back to me.

“She’s noticed.”

I slide into my usual seat across from them both. “I missed you guys too. But don’t worry, I’ll be set for a while after this job.”

“Does this mean you can take your cat back?” Evan asks. “I have cat hair on everything I own. How do you live with it?”

“Evan loves Felipe,” Asher says with a wave of his hand. “He’s just being a grump.”

“I do not love Felipe. You love Felipe and I love you. Against my better judgment.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet.” Asher leans over and presses a kiss to Evan’s cheek, who squawks in protest and shoves him away. I roll my eyes fondly.

“Don’t worry, I’m taking Felipe back. From now on, it’s just me, my cat, my apartment, and absolutely no—”

“Dragon!”

The warning cry is followed almost immediately by a loud scraping noise as the roof above our heads is torn away. My heart drops and my blood rushes cold as I squint upwards at the silhouette of a dragon snarling down at us. It’s massive, bright golden scales gleaming in the midday sun. It tilts back its head to let out a triumphant roar.

“Go, go, go!” I shove Evan and Asher towards the door just as Cynthia tears around the counter, rifle in hand. She fires three times at the dragon, but the shots miss the dragon’s soft underbelly and glance off of its hard, protective scales. It rears back and opens its mouth, the back of its throat glowing a telltale white. I grab Cynthia by the wrist and pull her out the front door, the bell giving a deceptively cheery tinkle behind us as the diner erupts in flames. The dragon spreads its wings and takes off, disappearing in the smoke.

We gather on the sidewalk, patrons and workers staring helplessly at the roaring dragon fire. Sirens wail in the distance, but they won’t be in time. Dragon fire burns too hot, too fast. I’ve seen its effects firsthand, when my family’s home went up in white flames in a matter of minutes, with my parents and brother trapped inside.

Cynthia shakes her head and throws her rifle down. “Ten years. Ten goddamn years!”

“I know, Cynthia.” I place a hand on her shoulder, but she shakes me off. Behind us, fire trucks tear around the corner and screech to a stop. Firefighters jump off, directing their hoses onto the roaring fire. They spray it with the thick foam they reserve for putting out dragon fire, but it’s clear that the damage has been done. Only a shell of the diner still stands, blackened and crumbling.

“I was supposed to be done,” Cynthia snaps, staring into the ashes of her diner. “Done messing with dragons, done losing everything I cared about. I was done!”

“You’re not the only one, ma’am,” a firefighter says. “This dragon’s been terrorizing this area for weeks now. Extermination services haven’t been able to do a thing.”

I bite my lip, a plan formulating in my head.

“Oh, no,” Evan says, glaring at me. “You better not be thinking what I—”

“I’ll hunt it down!”

Cynthia turns to face me, tear tracks streaking through the grime on her face. “Like hell you will, Kayla King. This thing isn’t another one of your little jobs. It’s dangerous and requires an experienced hunter.”

“I’ve been hunting for seven years!”

“You started at thirteen,” she fires back. “You’re no expert. Besides, I’m not letting you get hurt on my account.”

“It’s not just on your account,” I plead. “You heard that firefighter. More people are going to get hurt if nobody does something!”

“I know that! But does it have to be you?”

“I can do it,” I insist. “I know I can.”

Cynthia sighs. “I know you can too.” She runs a hand through her frizzy gray curls. “God, you remind me so much of myself. Trying to take on the whole world.” She wraps me in a tight hug. “Take care of yourself, Kayla. I better see you soon.” Then she storms off to talk to one of the firefighters.

“What are you thinking?” Asher explodes as soon as she’s gone. “You saw what that thing did! There’s no way you’re—”

“I can do it,” I repeat. “I have to.”

Asher sighs. “We’re not gonna be able to stop you, are we?”

“Have we ever?” Evan asks with a wry smile.

I reach into the inside pocket of my worn aviator jacket and pull out the crumpled handful of bills from my earlier job. “Here, take this.”

Asher shakes his head. “That’s your money. Besides, you’ll need it when you come back.”

“Think of it as safekeeping.” I push the money into his hands. “Or your tip for feeding Felipe.”

“God, that cat.” Evan rolls his eyes. “You have to come back safe, so you can get him off my hands.”

I laugh and pull them both into a tight hug. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon. It’s just like any other hunt, really!”

I quickly realize how wrong I am.

Tracking the thing is easy. Wherever this dragon goes, tragedy follows close behind. It should be like any other dragon—most dragons I’ve killed cause harm unthinkingly. Destruction is in their nature. But this one is different. There’s something unnerving about the way it strikes, how it surveys the area for a few days before targeting the most lively place. Almost human in its methodical attacks, yet utterly without compassion.

It’s fast, too, and evasive. It’s always moving, always in a new direction. And to make matters worse, I’m not the only one tracking it.

The first time, I thought it was a coincidence—just another hunter’s recently abandoned camp. But in the morning, the camp was gone, and so was the dragon. Ever since then, I’ve been finding small signs that another hunter is on this dragon’s tail—a still-smoldering campfire, abandoned traps, even a sleeve of tranquilizer darts. Whoever this hunter is, they must be new. They’re leaving an obvious path, and tranquilizer darts are far too risky to be widely used. I’ve heard too many horror stories of hunters thinking they’ve knocked their targets out, only to be snapped in half when they approach.

I’ve been walking for hours when I finally decide to set up camp for the night. The dragon led me to a small, secluded field outside the city. There’s no immediate targets for it here, and I won’t have a chance to shoot it down once it gets dark. I’ve been on the road for almost two weeks, and the motions of making camp have become ingrained in my body—pitch my tent, lock up my food, double-check my rifle is loaded, and collapse into my sleeping bag.

I curl up on my side, staring at the sliver of night sky twinkling at me through the flaps of my tent. I've never been on the road for this long. I miss my apartment, my cat, getting brunch at Cynthia’s with Asher and Evan, all of it.

It hits me again, as if for the first time—Cynthia’s is gone. All those memories, gone up in dragon fire. I can’t give up. There’s too many people counting on me.

Still, there’s a lump of homesickness in my throat as I drift off to sleep.

I wake up with a jolt hours later. From the moonlight filtering in through my tent, it’s still the middle of the night. I rub my eyes, unsure of what woke me. When nothing happens after a few moments, I roll over, ready to fall back to sleep.

An earth-shaking roar echoes from outside my tent. I leap to my feet and hurry outside, grabbing my rifle.

There, glowing eerily in moonlight, is the dragon. It paces back and forth and roars again.

It turns in my direction, but stares over my head, not noticing me. With shaking hands, I grip my rifle, aiming carefully at the soft plates of the dragon’s underbelly. I raise the scope to my eye, my fingers flexing on the trigger—

But before I can fire the shot, something rams into me, sending me tumbling to the ground and my rifle flying from my hands. My shot goes wide, whizzing away into the night.

I quickly get to my feet and glare up into the face of my attacker—one twisted with a familiar scar. “You! What is your problem with me? You’re trying to steal my kill, and you insult me in the bar—and you’re a dragonslayer too!”

“I’m no dragonslayer,” she hisses back. “I don’t kill dragons. I return them to their natural habitats, or I sell them to people who will care for them. They’re living creatures, just like us.” The smuggler looks me up and down, her lip curled. “Well, just like me. They’re not monsters like you.”

I almost laugh. “What else could they be? They steal and they burn and they kill. They should all be wiped out, before they wipe us out first!”

She presses a hand to my mouth and I writhe out of her grasp. “Don’t touch me!”

“Shhh,” she snaps, no longer looking at me. I follow her gaze and freeze.

The dragon has turned to us, sharp white fangs bared in a snarl. It opens its mouth, throat glowing white. I close my eyes and brace myself for the blow.

Suddenly, from behind the dragon, I hear a series of thin roars. The dragon snaps its jaws shut and whirls around, its tail almost smacking me to the ground again. Two tiny dragons come tumbling out from a bush, throwing themselves at the larger one. It roars again, but somehow softer, less challenging. Then, the group of dragons take off and soar into the night sky.

Beside me, the smuggler laughs. “I was wondering what was up with that one. Her behavior was so erratic, I thought she might be sick or something. Guess she was just looking for her family.”

I blink. Dragons don’t have family. That’s the first thing any hunter learns—they don’t care for their offspring, and young dragons aren’t any less dangerous than full-grown ones. But something about the way the two younger dragons rushed at the older one, the softness in her answering roar, feels achingly familiar to me.

The smuggler turns to me, a faint smile playing across her lips. “I’m Sasha.”

“You’re a shitty tracker, is what you are,” I huff, still sour over the loss of the dragon. “I’ve known about you for days. And how can you be so calm? You wanted to get rid of that dragon, same as I did.”

Sasha shakes her head. “You wanted to get rid of her. I wanted her safe and happy, and she is. Now that she’s found her babies, she won’t be attacking anyone else. They’ll probably find a den somewhere far away from humans.”

I blink. “Of course it’ll attack again! It’s a dragon.”

“And dragons don’t want anything to do with people,” she says patiently. “We’re the ones who destroyed their habitats. They’re only trying to defend themselves and their families.”

“I feel very patronized right now.”

“You should.”

I sigh. “Look, what did I do to you? And don’t give me that you’re-a-dragonslayer crap. The dragon’s gone!”

She folds her arms over her chest. “I heard you in the bar, you know. Boasting about your kill, demanding your money. Like it was all a game to you. I’ve met a lot of dragonslayers before, but most of them are just in it for the money. You really hate dragons, don’t you?”

I nod sharply. “Dragons don’t do anything but hurt other people. I’m just trying to protect the people I care about.” Without thinking, I add, “They killed my family.”

“Oh.” She bites her lip. “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

I scoff. “Yeah. So it’s not just a game to me. Maybe don’t go around making assumptions about strangers you’re eavesdropping on in bars.”

Sasha blushes. “I was not eavesdropping! You were being very loud, and—”

“Sure.” I jerk my thumb in the direction of my tent. “Look, I’m going to pack up and start heading back. I have to pick up my cat and make sure everyone knows I didn’t get eaten alive out here. You can walk with me if you want, since you clearly have no weapons.”

“I have a tranq gun!”

“And those are notoriously excellent protection.” I head for my tent. “Just stick with me until we get back and then we never have to see each other again.”

“Fine!” she calls in my direction. I laugh to myself as I duck into my tent.

Caring about dragons? Thinking they want to protect themselves? Probably the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Dragons are killing machines, built to attack. There’s no way they have any motivation other than bloodshed.

And yet, I keep replaying the dragon reuniting with her babies, the way they all flew off together, as if all they needed was each other. My family used to be like that too.

I shake my head and focus on rolling up my sleeping bag. I’ve got a long journey ahead of me.