Hunter

 

The nights were dark in Santa Barbara, even in El Capital. The small island nation had spent the bulk of its history shuffling between slovenly neglect and tyranny (local or foreign), often getting somehow the worst of both worlds. And while now it might be heading for a brighter dawn, the nights were still dark.

There were parts of the city that had modern lighting, of course, but these were the minority, and even where electricity ran like water, there were still occasional cataracts and droughts. But for the most part, the people of the island were at peace with the darkness. And there were those, as in any nation, who rather preferred it.

Certainly, this was the case for a certain group of men on that particular night. They seemed rather at home in the darkness and might have seemed to have sprung from it, like some sort of stygian spawn. They were dressed in black, most of them even having black hoods pulled down over their faces, as they moved through the darkness of a back street and finally gathered like shadows in the dark alcove of a doorway to a small warehouse.

Two of the men, using metal bars, began prying open the locked door, while the others watched. A couple kept a look out at the street behind them, but the night was dark enough that little vigilance seemed necessary. And they looked only at the street. They never would have thought to lift their eyes any higher.

And so, they did not see the shadowy forms perched on the roof opposite or the eyes that watched them, glowing with a strange radiance in the darkness of the night.

The next moment, the door of the building gave way, and the men crowded in, leaving only one standing in the doorway to keep an eye on the street outside.

Inside, the warehouse was mostly empty. A few barrels and sacks were tossed at random on shelves along the walls, but the men paid no attention to those. Instead, they moved quickly towards a pallet standing conspicuously in the center of the building, holding a stack of boxes lashed in a neat pile.

“Stop!” called out a rather hesitant voice as a figure strode into the dim light at the center of the building. The figure carried a truncheon and was dressed in semi-official (though rather ragged and threadbare) looking clothes, suggesting that he was supposed to be the guard for the warehouse—but he looked so young that he looked rather as if he was the one who needed guarding. Certainly, he did not look at all equal to the challenge at hand; a fact which he himself seemed to recognize.

The leader of the robbers also clearly recognized the futility of the guard's would-be defense. He lunged forward and lifted the boy bodily from the ground. “How are you gonna stop us?” he asked, speaking the slightly accented English which was the more-or-less official language of Santa Barbara.

“I-I'll yell for help,” said the boy in a shaking voice.

“Oh, you'll yell all right,” said the leader of the robbers. “But that's not going to help you. Men, start unloading the crates. I'll take care of this.”

And that was when everything went crazy.

The silence was split by a scream—not a human scream, but something more like the scream of a hawk or eagle—and a dark form catapulted out of shadows, knocking the robber to the ground.

“Look out!” shouted another of the robbers, in a voice that was startled but perhaps not as startled as you would have expected under the circumstances. “Look out! They're here! The dragons!”

And as he spoke, the darkness of night rolled back, and the shadows of the warehouse turned to the brilliance of day, so that the startled and frightened faces of the robbers could be seen clearly. The sudden illumination came from a figure that hovered in the middle of the room—a figure that was familiar to most of Santa Barbara, though very few people had actually seen it in person—the figure of the Lux Dragon.

Its form was roughly that of a man (though a man of unusually large stature, much bigger than any of the robbers), but covered in metallic scales—and the face was long and reptilian. The dragon's body was blinding white, veined with streaks of gold. Its wings were also white but turned at the extremities to all the colors of the rainbow, and its diamond-shaped eyes glowed blue like a blazing noonday sky.

The robbers were thrown into disarray by the sudden appearance of this creature, but they weren't completely fazed. One of the men, who had managed to get to (what he felt was) a safe distance away, pulled a gun from inside his shirt and pointed it at the glowing figure.

And the dragon threw out its right hand (rather in shape like a human hand but with claws rather than fingernails), and from it came something that looked like a beam of white light, but which struck the man with the force of a blow and sent him sprawling.

But while it this vibrant figure which had captured the attention of the group, it was actually not the only or even the first actor on the scene. It was another draconian figure which had struck the leader of the robbers and pulled the frightened guard out of his grasp—and now, having placed the boy safely out of the way, returned to the fray.

This figure was essentially the same in form as the first dragon, though somewhat smaller. It was crimson with veins of pearlescent white, and the tips of its wings faded to a rosy pink—and its eyes burned orange, like the gaze of a harvest moon.

Both dragons were humanoid but had no distinctly human characteristics. And yet, there was something that would have led most people, instinctively and without thought, to refer to the white dragon as he and the crimson one as she.

For just an instant, both dragons hovered in the air, their wings beating slowly. And then, one again giving off a strange, inhuman scream, they dove at the robbers, scattering them.

One of the men who was closest to the door managed to escape from the fracas and make his way outside. “We've got to scoot,” he said in a low voice, speaking to the shadowy figure of the lookout. “The dragons are here.”

And then the figure turned to look at him, and two black wings were outlined against the lighter darkness behind.

It was a third dragon, smaller in size—not even as big as the man himself—black as night, veined with dark purple, with just a hint of blue at the ends of the wings. And his single eye glowed cold and white like the light of a distant star.

The robber didn't even have time to react before the dark figure grabbed him and hauled him a few inches off the ground, his wings beating soundlessly. “Why are you here?” The voice of the dragon was warped and strange as if it had traveled an infinite distance to reach his mouth.

“We just—just--” the man stuttered, his throat clogged by sudden fear.

“Nox! Look out!” The white dragon shouted suddenly and with one flap of its wings had cleared the distance across the warehouse to the doorway where the two stood—knocking both the black dragon and his captive to the ground. An instant later the wood of the doorframe behind them was splintered by the impact of a bullet.

Almost as quickly, the crimson dragon had shot through the remains of the doorway and up towards the roof of one of the adjacent buildings, where the glow of metal had showed for one instant against the darkness of night.

As she reached the rooftop, something like a ball of fire appeared in her right hand. And its light, like the brief flash of an old camera, captured for just an instant a figure on the roof. It was just an instant before the figure vanished, but it was enough to see it clearly. It was the figure of a boy, perhaps fifteen, with coal black skin and hair, carrying a high powered riffle with casual, almost accidental attitude.

And for just a moment, the dragon hesitated, her wings holding her aloft. And she stared into the darkness and said just a single word, in a low voice, as if talking to herself. “Hunter?”

*

While much of El Capital was still backward and primitive, there were some better parts of town. And it was in one of these sections that the offices of Dragons & Co. rose above the surroundings—not a skyscraper by American standards, but one of the tallest in Santa Barbara. It was clean and well-cared for, if not the most lavish or ostentatious building, even among its peers.

On the top floor of this building, there was a large room, surrounded on all four sides by windows that looked out over the city and containing nothing else but a large, oblong table surrounded by chairs. At one side of the room, just in front of the stairwell, Sydney Bloque stood facing the table and holding a clipboard. He was a short, dark-skinned man with a goatee, wearing a somewhat shabby brown trenchcoat and fedora. The only other occupants of the room were three children sitting at various points around the table. It was to the youngest of these, and the one closest to the stairs, that Sydney spoke. His voice was light but a little rough and occasionally garbled as he kept a short pencil stub clamped in one corner of his mouth while he talked.

“So, as usual, Sonic has a report about imports that nobody cares about.” As he spoke, he pulled papers from his clipboard and laid them on the table next to the boy. “Dr. Lee is still working on his project for bringing modern hygiene to the rural areas, but there's not much definite as yet. Debby has finished compiling all our data about the housing situation in the capital; here's her report, but we're still waiting on Estelle to look at it and come up with a definite proposal.”

He glanced back down at his clipboard. “And that's about all I have for you except for the news. And there's not much news today; the only important thing I have is this little article about the dragons.” He shifted his pencil slightly and began reading: “Last night, a band of ruffians attempted to rob one of the warehouses on the east side of town and assaulted the guard. However, the dragons were on their trail and brought an end to their plans. They were all apprehended and there was no loss of property. Once again, Santa Barbara is safer because of her protectors.”

As he finished reading, Sydney pulled the pencil out of his mouth, holding it between his fore and pointer fingers, and glanced at the occupants of the table. “Well, what do you think? It's rather short—there really isn't enough here for a full story—but I think it gets the main points across.”

“It's fine, Syd—only--” answered the boy at the head of the table.

“Only what, Moz?” Sydney put the pencil back in his mouth.

Moses Moreland glanced down at the table uncertainly. He was a boy of about twelve, slightly small for his age, with dark skin and hair that made him look like a native of Santa Barbara—only the curliness of his hair and his green eyes suggested his mixed ancestry. He wore jeans and a polo shirt, neat and clean but unremarkable. The only thing of note about his appearance was the single glove he wore on his right hand. It was the sort of glove where the fingers end at about the knuckles; it was white, made of a material like leather, but with a metallic golden plate attached to the back of the glove. “It's just—the way you wrote the story made it seem as if we were looking for those robbers.”

“Weren't you?”

Moses shook his head. “We were on the trail of that protection ring—the one I was telling you about yesterday. It was only chance that we happened to see that robbery in progress and jumped in to stop it.”

Sydney twirled the pencil in his hand and made a notation on the paper. “I'll change it a little, then. I was a bit surprised. That seemed like too small of a robbery to get all three of you together. Aside from that, is the story fine?”

“You left out the part where we just let the biggest crook get away,” added another of the figures at the table in a rather bitter voice.

Hank Huffman was fourteen, with hair so fair as to be almost white, though the sun had turned his skin almost as dark as Moses'. He wore an old clothe wrapped tightly around his head at an angle, covering his right eye, but his left eye was screwed into a scowl. The right sleeve of his ragged t-shirt hung limp and empty, but there was every indication in his attitude that if he had had two arms, he would have had them crossed defiantly across his chest.

“Wait. I thought this was all small fry. Was there someone significant there?”

Moses sighed. “There was a sniper there—though we don't know whether he was working with the robbers or was on his own. Erin was the only one to get a good look at him, and she thinks it was Hunter.”

“I know it was Hunter,” interrupted the girl at the table defiantly. “Don't you think I'd be able to recognize him?”

Erin Moreland looked very little like her younger brother—much more clearly showing the English side of their ancestry. Her skin was fairer, though still with a brownish tint, and her hair (which was pulled back into a ponytail) was brown, with a few hints of gold. The blouse and skirt she wore weren't flashy, but they did indicate a certain amount of care and taste and money had been involved in their selection.

“Hunter?” repeated Sydney incredulously. “Huh. It'd been so long since we heard anything about him that I assumed that he was out of the country.”

“So did we.”

The man sucked at the end of his pencil and then said, a little hesitantly, “Well, I wish you'd told me that before. This could be a little awkward.”

“Why?”

“I asked Dr. Lee to do some investigating on this case.”

“That shouldn't matter—but why? This doesn't seem to be something in his province.”

“I was looking into that warehouse, and it turns out he's familiar with it. He said he could get info on exactly what was there last night—to find out what the robbers were after.”

“If he can, that might give us a lead.” Moses looked down and started making notes on a memo pad. “It was probably just an ordinary robbery, but those men seemed to know what they were after. It didn't feel like a random crime. And then Hunter being there...”

“You think he was working with the gang? He was always a loner, but he'd have to get money from somewhere, and being a hired gun pays well if you're good enough.”

“That's what worries me. Because he clearly is good, and if Erin is right about his gun, it was something beyond your average gunman in this country. It doesn't make sense for him to have been working with those men if they were just average crooks.”

“So what do you make of it?”

“Nothing.” The boy ripped the top sheet from the memo pad and handed it to the man. “If you don't mind, pass this on to Debby and Sonic. We need someone to keep working on that protection case. Because this could be big enough that the three of us need to concentrate on it.”

“OK. And what about me?”

“After you finish up that story, you and me can go down to the carcel and talk to those men we captured. If there is something big here, they probably won't tell us much, but we might get something.”

“We might have gotten something from Hunter—if we hadn't let him get away.” Hank threw the sentence out like a challenge as Sydney descended the stairs.

“I didn't let him get away.” Erin threw her ponytail back and glared across the table. “He slipped through a grate into the building, and I couldn't follow him—not as the Vesp Dragon, anyway. And I wasn't going to go traipsing around that part of town at night as Erin Moreland.”

“You couldn't stop him? Didn't you think of using, like, a fire burst? Lighting bolt? Stream of pure kinetic energy? You know, any of the powers of a dragon?”

Moses set his lips firmly. “He does have a point. You do need to start using your powers more efficiently. But that doesn't matter now. Hank, you need to let it go. What matters is what we do now.”

“Thanks for the defense, brother,” said Erin, a little sarcastically. She was irritated now, and she half stood up. “And do you know what? Maybe you're right. Maybe I did let him get away. Certainly, I didn't want to be the one to arrest Hunter. Because we used to be friends, and friends should treat each other better than that—something you wouldn't understand.”

“Yeah, he was your friend. And now he's a criminal. Why is that your old friends keep turning up as criminals?”

“That's only happened twice,” said Moses quietly.

“And the only thing that matters,” Hank went on, “is that your 'friend' tried to kill me last night.”

“We don't know whether he was aiming at you—or if he even knew it was you; that is, whether he could tell it was the Nox Dragon.” Moses, as usual, found himself playing the role of the peacemaker and voice of reason between the two older members of the team.

“But if he wasn't working with those robbers—and you're right, that doesn't really make sense—then the only reason for him to be there was if he was after us.”

“How would he know we would be there? We didn't even know that. It was just a coincidence.”

The conversation was interrupted suddenly as a voice spoke from the stairway. “Mr. Moreland?”

Immediately, Moses looked up, though he already knew who it was. There was only one person in the building who called him that.

“Good morning, Dr. Lee.”

Brock Lee was a tall man, with a build that seemed too muscular for an electrophysicist. His black skin and hair (he had been born in Haiti, though raised and educated in the USA) clashed rather abruptly with his white lab coat, the only thing about him that suggested his profession.

“Mr. Bloque said you were looking for information regarding that warehouse and its contents.”

“Yes.” Moses turned his chair sideways to look at the scientist. “Do you know what it was that the robbers were trying to steal?”

Dr. Lee nodded. “Electrolysis heating elements,” he said in a voice that implied they all knew what that meant. As it was clear none of them did, he went on, “They are devices that use a small amount of electricity to generate heat.”

“Heating elements,” repeated Moses thoughtfully. “Not what I was expecting. Where did they come from?”

“Specially made by a firm in the States.”

“So they're rare?”

Dr. Lee shook his head. “Rare, but not valuable. The components of the device are all common and inexpensive. Any value is in the labor, and even that isn't much. They are rare only because there is very little call for them.”

Hank was still frowning, but now his frown was thoughtful rather than angry, and he was pressing one finger against his forehead just above his nose—always a sign that he was concentrating. “Then this doesn't make sense. Those robbers clearly knew what they were after. But there wouldn't be any value in something like that to common robbers—they couldn't sell them on the black market or anything. But these things don't sound important enough to have caught the attention of Dr. Future or the Order or any of the really big bad guys. So... why?”

Moses shook his head and turned back to Dr. Lee. “Do you know who ordered these things?”

“Yes. I did.”

Hank jolted slightly and his frown turned to a grim smile.

If Dr. Lee noticed his attitude, he didn't show it. Then, he never did. “I believed these elements might be the solution to the hot water problem.”

“Right,” said Moses slowly, glancing at one of the papers Sydney had left. “You're still trying to find a way to get a cheap and reliable source of hot water for the rural parts of the island.”

“Exactly, Mr. Moreland. This technology has been known for years, but it has never been thoroughly researched since, in the States, they already have many other more efficient and safer ways of generating heat. But my hope was that I could work out the problems with them; perhaps we could finally bring modern hygiene to all of Santa Barbara. I can't imagine why anyone would want to steal them. I can't imagine what good they would do to anyone besides myself.”

“Only somebody with a personal connection.”

Hank had clearly not meant for Dr. Lee to hear the comment, but the scientist narrowed his eyes and asked, “What do you mean?” He still addressed his words to Moses and not to Hank.

Moses let out a long expulsion of breath and said in a quiet voice. “We think Hunter may have been involved.”

Dr. Lee's voice was always cold and hard, but now it had the quality of a large anvil buried inside a glacier. “Hunter? I don't know anybody by that name.”

Erin pushed back in her chair and opened her mouth but didn't say anything. Hank's scowl turned more inscrutable than usual. Moses sighed softly and moved his eyes as if he wanted to roll them but wasn't up to the effort. But Dr. Lee went on as if nothing had happened. “At any rate, these devices are not especially valuable and their loss will not set back my research significantly anyway. It will be easy to obtain more, but I may try another--”

“Wait.” Hank leaned forward in his chair and stared fixedly at Dr. Lee. “'Their loss'? We stopped the robbery.”

For the first time, Dr. Lee acknowledged the fact that Moses was not the only one in the room. He fixed the piercing gaze of his black eyes on a spot somewhere above Hank's head as if trying to imagine that he was a few inches taller and said, “I do not know exactly what happened, Mr. Huffman. But when I checked the shipment this morning, two units were missing.”

“That doesn't make sense. There's no way those robbers could have gotten away with any. We were there as soon as they got in. How could they have stolen even a couple units?”

“How would I know? Although,” he added, in a rather deeper voice as if the words were pulled out of him against his will, “I cannot guarantee they were not lost in shipping.”

“Two units,” repeated Moses. “About how big would they be?”

“Say the size of a brick, though much lighter of course. About two-thirds of that size if they were removed from their packaging.”

“I see.” Moses made a note on his pad and then turned back to the scientist. “Would you be able to compile a report about these devices? More info about them—details on the firm that shipped them—anything you know about them. We are considering this an important case and will be looking into it further.”

“Of course, Mr. Moreland.” Dr. Lee made a slight, stiff movement with his head as if a rather truncated bow. “I should be able to have that for you by lunchtime.”

“Thanks. Just leave it on my desk downstairs—I'll probably be out.”

Dr. Lee made another nod, turned, and walked down the stairs with movements somewhere between a stride and a march.

Moses exhaled, almost as if he had been holding his breath for the whole interview, and glanced at the other two.

Hank was pressing a finger against his forehead again. “I suppose it could be that somebody had already robbed the warehouse before we got there. It's not as if that place has good security. There was only one door forced, but there would be other ways in. Or that guard might even have been in on it. I don't suppose either of you noticed whether the load had already been disturbed.”

“It didn't look as if anyone had tampered with it, but I didn't look at it closely,” answered Moses. “Anyway, I don't know how it was supposed to look, so I probably wouldn't notice anything unless it was obvious.”

“Of course,” Hank went on, closing his eye, “it could be that someone came back to the warehouse after we left. The door was already broken, and the guard was too shaken to do much for the rest of the night. And,” he went on, opening his eye and giving a smile that somehow looked more like a frown, “we know that somebody with a personal connection was on the scene at the time. Hunter easily could have snuck in and taken them—couldn't he?”

He threw the words at Erin as if a challenge and seemed to expect a reaction. But Erin only returned a very sweet and very uncharacteristic smile and commented, “Yes, you're right, he could have.” She turned to Moses. “So, you've decided that this is a case we want to investigate?”

Moses nodded.

“Then I'm going to try to find Hunter and talk to him.”

Hank's mouth fell open. “What?”

“You're right—if anybody has a lead on what was going on last night, it would be him. And since we used to be friends, I might be able to get him to talk—certainly, I'd have a better shot than either of you two.”

Hank seemed too shocked for a minute to speak but Moses asked calmly, “Do you think he'd talk to you now?”

“I think so. He has no reason to connect me with the dragons or anything that's happened to him. And maybe I could even get through to him—get him to give up his criminal life. At least I owe it to him to try; as a friend.”

“Friend?” repeated Hank, who seemed to be struggling to articulate his words. “Friend? Let's review a few of the things your 'friend' has done. He attacked his own father; probably would have killed him if the dragons hadn't interfered. Subsequently tried and failed to attack the dragons. Afterward, committed a number of other crimes, which include assault and mayhem. Many of these crimes he committed while consorting with Ishtar Storm—a self-proclaimed anarchist and former assassin for the Order of Nimrod. After all of that, how can you still call him a friend? I just don't--”

“Hank.” Moses spoke the single syllable quietly but with the force of a command.

Hank stood up. “Fine,” he said. “Fine.” With a tug, he pulled an object out of the pocket of his tattered shorts. It was a glove, identical to the one Moses wore, but made out of black material with blue plating. His words were somewhat muffled as he used his teeth to pull the glove onto his hand. “I'm going to try to talk to the kid that was guarding that warehouse last night. There's a chance he might have seen something. Is that all right?”

Moses nodded.

And like that, Hank vanished, and in his place stood the sleek, black form of the Nox Dragon. With a single beat of his wings, he was airborne and had shot through the window, which opened automatically as he approached and closed behind him. Moses stood to his feet and walked over, staring out after him.

Erin let out a frustrated sigh. “Is it just me, or was he being more Hankish than usual?”

Moses didn't turn around. “You know how much he hates leaving loose ends. And Hunter's assaulted quite a few people, even maiming one. You know that's going to trigger him.”

“But some, maybe most, of those assaults were self-defense. And even attacking Dr. Lee was at least partly self-defense.”

“There's a difference between defending yourself and leaving someone permanently maimed.”

Erin sighed. “Now you're sounding like Hank.”

“I'm trying to see both sides. And some of the stuff Hunter's done is indefensible.”

“Look, I know that. I'm not that naïve, Moses. I don't think Hunter is some innocent puppy dog. But I also don't think he's an irredeemable monster, either. He did have some cause to go bad; and a lot of the stuff he did, he did under Ishtar's influence. Now that she's out of the country, who knows what he's thinking. I was being serious when I said I wanted to try to track him down and talk to him. I might be the only one who could get through to him now.” Moses could tell without turning around that his sister had stood up and was now pacing the room. “This is something I really believe in, Moses.”

“I know, that's what worries me.”

“You're not going off on that whole thing about how I get carried away too easily, are you? Would you rather I was as hard-boiled and stubborn as Hank?”

“No, but maybe you two could learn something from each other sometime.” Moses took a deep breath and deliberately steadied himself since he knew Erin might not be happy about his next words. “There is something I need clear. I know you and Hunter were friends before, before he became a criminal. But is that all you were? Friends?”

Erin gave a laugh that was more like a snort. “What? Do you think he was my boyfriend? Is that what's bothering you?”

“No, but that's definitely what's bothering Hank.”

“What?” Erin hadn't been able to catch the words that Moses had deliberately said in an undertone.

“Nothing.” Moses was certainly not going to be the one to broach that subject with his sister. “But you didn't answer my question.”

Erin let out a sigh. “Honestly, he may have had a crush on me. But I think it was more that I was just the only friend he had. And I certainly never felt that way about him. I just felt sorry for him because he was so lonely. And, of course, we had things in common—we both had lost our mothers when we were young, and we both had distant relationships with our fathers, if for different reasons. So, no, there was never anything on my side besides friendship and sympathy, and I don't think there was much more than that on his side.”

“I see.”

For a long time, there was silence. When Erin spoke again, she had walked up to stand almost behind her brother. “Moses, do you realize how many people in this building are here solely because you saw something good in them; because you were willing to give them a second chance when nobody else would have? I know that's true for me—do you remember what a shallow, spoiled, selfish person I used to be? But now, here we are. And we are all working together to help Santa Barbara—when most people in the world have given up on the whole country. Without that—without wanting to help people, even those who don't seem to deserve it—where would we be?”

“It just seems so risky.”

Erin gave a frustrated sigh. “I thought we were over this whole 'I'm-your-brother-and-I-have-to-protect-you' thing.”

Moses closed his eyes for a moment. “Of course, I want to protect you,” he said in a very quiet voice. “I want to protect everyone. I'd protect all of Santa Barbara if I could.”

“Even Hunter?”

“Even Hunter.” He finally turned around to face her. “If you feel that strongly about it, then go for it. Just make sure to be extra careful not to let anything slip about your secret identity. Hunter was pretty mad at the dragons before, and now he may be mixed up with something more against us. And even though Ishtar isn't in Santa Barbara anymore, he may still be under her influence.”

“Right. I'll be careful. Thanks.”

“You're welcome.” But there was no enthusiasm in Moses' voice as he said the words and he turned back to stare out the window again, out over the sprawling streets of El Capital.

*

As dramatic as Erin had been in the meeting room, it wasn't until much later that she began her search for Hunter. She had plenty of other obligations, but the main problem was that she really had no idea where Hunter might be. Usually, searching for people was handled by others at the company; she had almost asked for help, but she knew Moses had given the job to her.

And so it was that, at twilight, Erin—in the crimson form of the Vesp Dragon—was soaring slowly across the sky of Santa Barbara, with zero idea about where she was going or what she was going to do.

She probably didn't need to be flying in her dragon form, but doing so helped her shut out other things. Also, in this form, she had contact with the intelligence of the Vesp Dragon, which often helped her work through problems. Having access to a millennia old AI had its advantages.

The truth was that part of her was afraid that Hank was right. Even though it really hadn't been that long since she and Hunter had been friends, so much had changed for both of them. Were they really friends? If she could find him, would he even want to see her?

She winged a little higher in the sky. There were so many memories, most of them bittersweet—especially in light of subsequent events. She remembered the hours she had spent trying to coach Hunter in math and science—not that she had ever been great at either herself, but she was so much better than Hunter was.

Erin's home, Hunter's, and the private school both had attended were all very close together, and in the portion of wild land between them, there was an unused shed, technically the school's property but basically abandoned. She and Hunter had often met there, sometimes with Tamarra, more often alone. Looking back now, maybe that had been a bad idea, but she had almost felt Hunter was like a brother—even though she suspected he felt differently.

And he had always seemed like a victim; she had never dreamed he would become what he was now. She remembered the evening she had found him lying on the floor of the shed, too badly beaten to move. She would have called in medical authorities, but Hunter wouldn't hear of it. He was always stubborn; much like Hank, actually.

She stopped dead in the air and then after a second wheeled around. She suddenly knew exactly where to look.

*

Several minutes later, Erin—no longer in her dragon form—slipped out the back door of her house. She didn't want either Moses or her father to know where she was going. Her father was completely ignorant of her activities as a hero—and while Moses had trusted her with this mission, she wasn't sure he wouldn't still try to shadow her to protect her.

It was dark now; the last crimson traces of sunset had vanished. It was a clear night, though, and the stars glared brightly in the blackness of the tropical night.

It had been so long that she wasn't sure she could find the way in the dark. But as she stepped out the door, she found her feet carrying her almost without thought. Before she could even make up her mind that she knew where she was going, she was already there.

The shed looked exactly as she remembered; perhaps a little more dilapidated. Certainly, there was nothing to suggest that anybody had come here. Was she silly to think Hunter would come back here? She had briefly searched here when Hunter first went on the run, but then he had been working with Ishtar who probably had a hideout of her own. If he was alone again--

Well, at any rate, it certainly wouldn't hurt to look.

She took a deep breath and pulled open the door.

Fortunately, Erin was good at taking in details quickly because she didn't have much time. The room inside was exactly as it had always looked—with the same small collection of broken and discarded furniture against the walls. But there were also a few wooden boxes and bottles scattered around. And on one of these boxes, a figure was sitting, engaged in the act of polishing the barrel of a large gun.

As the door opened, he dropped the polishing cloth and, with deft movements, he moved the gun into position against his shoulder.

“Hunter, it's me,” Erin said quietly. She held her hands open at her side as if to indicate that she came in peace. However, her right hand was hovering very near her purse. If she had to, she could drop her hand into the purse and grab her dragon gauntlet—but that would take time, and she really hoped it wouldn't be necessary anyway.

“Erin?” His eyes narrowed, and he moved his head slightly to one side as if trying to get a better look at her.

She took a step forward. “When I heard you were back in town, I figured you'd be here.”

He didn't lower his gun. “How did you hear about me?”

Erin lowered her hand imperceptibly. Everything depended on how Hunter responded to her next line. She had to tell him at least part of his truth because there was a chance he already knew it. “You had a run-in with the dragons last night—you know Moses is friends with them.”

“Right.” There was still suspicion in his voice, but his eyes looked more curious than wary. “And so he sent you to find me?”

“Moses doesn't even know I'm here.” (That was technically true.) “Do you think I'd let my little brother tell me what to do?—dragons or no dragons.” The funny thing was that, back when she and Hunter had been friends, that would have been true. Back then, she had seen Moses as just an annoyance and an intrusion in the family; she never would have dreamed then that she would be following his orders.

He slowly lowered his gun, though still keeping it tightly in his grip. “So why are you here?”

Erin moved into the circle of light in the middle of the shed. She felt sure that she was safe now. “To see you. It's been a long time, you know.”

“Yeah, it has.” He stood up and balled his left hand into a fist (still holding his gun lightly in his right hand).

Erin smiled and, also making a fist, touched her hand to his. This was something Hunter had taught her on their first meeting. (Apparently, it was a thing people did in America.) She felt safe enough now to take a good look at him.

He still kept his hair cut very short, practically shaved. And he wore dungarees and a tank top; always his choice in clothing when not in his school uniform. He looked so much the same and yet so different.

Had he grown that much taller in the time he'd been gone? No, he had definitely grown, but the change was more in his posture. He seemed to have completely lost his old slouch and the cringing way he used to hold his shoulders. He stood now with a straight back and shoulders, still with something of a careless attitude but with an underlying confidence. He somehow looked older than fifteen.

“So,” she asked, glancing around, “are you planning to live here permanently?”

Suddenly, he seemed so much less sure of himself. He just slightly ducked his head and pulled his shoulders together—turning, for just a moment, into the Hunter Erin remembered. “I-I'm not sure.”

“It's a good hiding spot, but you know the police are still looking for you.”

“I'm not worried about them.” Hunter pursed his eyebrows. “I suppose the dragons are looking for me now too?”

“Moses said something about that, yes.”

“Well, once I've done this job, I'll try to get as far away as I can.”

“Job?” Erin made sure to throw out the word with a casual curiosity—not too insistent and not too innocent.

Once again, Hunter ducked his head slightly. “There's something I have to do—it's why I came back to El Capital in the first place.” Another sudden change came over Hunter. There was a glint in his eyes, which was calculating but also angry. “Your brother works with him, doesn't he?”

Erin knew from the tone that 'him' meant Dr. Lee. “Yes.”

He took a step forward; he really seemed to tower over her. “Would you help me?”

Erin stood her ground; she had to play it cool. “I don't know...”

Hunter's words started tumbling out. “Last night—when the dragons tried to catch me—it was a warehouse downtown. He had some tie to it.”

“OK?”

“You're good at talking to people. Talk to him and find out what was there.”

Hunter was definitely overestimating her. She doubted she could have gotten anything from Dr. Lee. Other than Moses, the scientist didn't really listen to any children (and not many adults.) Fortunately, in this case, she wouldn't need to try.

“Find out, and then--” he paused, thinking— “we can't meet here again.” He fished a crumpled paper out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Meet me there—tomorrow evening—with whatever info you can get.”

Erin looked at the paper. It was an address in the eastern part of town, not all that far from the warehouse. It was an area that Erin would have been hesitant to visit on her own without the protection of the Vesp Dragon. “I don't like this, Hunter.”

He seemed to shrink. “I guess it was too much to ask. I should have known better than to expect--” He paused and glanced away. “Maybe we've changed more than I thought. It's just that—we used to be friends and--”

“All right, I'll do it. At least, I'll try. You know how he can be.”

She could see his whole body seem to clench. “I know.” Then he relaxed and set his gone down on one of the crates.

Erin took a doubtful step backwards. “Well, I guess I'd better go.”

Hunter looked up at her. “Would you—would stay for just for a minute. It's just been so long since I've had a friend to talk to--”

“Just for a minute.”

 

It was really about ten minutes when Erin finally slipped back into the darkness. It hadn't been much of a conversation. Both had too many secrets now, and they had little left in common. Still, Erin thought Hunter seemed happier just for her presence. At any rate, she had survived the interview without him trying to shoot her, and she had at least a lead.

*

Sometime in the afternoon of the following day, Hank was settled with a brooding attitude behind the unreasonably large but somewhat battered hardwood desk in Moses' office. He was reading through a stack of papers with a careless, bored attitude, even though his eye was going over the details very carefully. But he put the papers down as the door opened.

“So there you are.”

“Sorry, Hank,” said Moses, closing the door behind him. “I didn't expect you.”

“Have you gotten anywhere on the case?”

“No. We weren't able to get anything out of those thugs. I'm still guessing they were hired by somebody, but--” he shrugged and sat down on the other side of the desk. “And then, today, I promised to help Pastor Rivers with--”

Hank's frown deepened.

“Yes, I know how you feel about him—I'm not going to argue about religion now. Anyway, that's where I've been this morning. He was explaining the difference between phileo and agape. And--”

“So you haven't got anywhere.”

“No. What about you?”

Hank shrugged. “I was able to talk to that guard. I'm pretty sure he wasn't involved with the crooks.”

“I never thought he was.”

“You never know. But he does claim that some stranger tried to pump him for information about shipment times and contents. Nothing concrete to track down, I guess, but it does point to the fact that this was all planned out in advance.”

Moses frowned and stared down at his desk. “I guess that's what we already knew. But I still can't figure out who or why.”

“It seems pretty wild. Did you read through that report? I think you'd have to be as crazy as Dr. Lee to even want to try using those things.”

“Yeah, I can't see a motive—even for Hunter.”

Hank tensed at the mention of Hunter's name and then leaned forward. “What about Erin?”

“I'm not sure. I think she's got something—she came by first thing this morning and got a copy of Dr. Lee's report. But she didn't say anything, and I didn't ask.”

Hank pushed up abruptly. “Dr. Lee's report? Does that mean she made contact with Hunter?”

“I'd guess so.”

“And you didn't ask for details?”

“No.”

“And you didn't, I don't know?, have Debby follow her?”

“Debby's working on the protection case.” Moses leaned back in his chair and threw a piercing look across the desk. “You do remember that Erin is a dragon and she has been as long as you have? And that the Vesp Dragon is actually more powerful than the Nox Dragon?”

Hank closed his eye for a second. It wasn't so much that he hated being reminded of that—he just hated the way Moses seemed to be dismissing the situation. “Yeah, I know Erin can handle herself in a fight. But she's different from us. She's naïve; she's had a sheltered life. She doesn't know how dangerous the world is. How else would she be willing to give someone like Hunter a chance?”

“You would have been right once, Hank, but not now. Erin has had plenty of chances to see what the world's like. Don't you understand? That's why she wants to help Hunter. Because he's been hurt—he's a victim as well as a bad guy.”

Hank pushed back in his chair violently. “I'm so sick of hearing you trying to excuse him. Sure, his dad was rough on him—harsh—maybe even cruel—that's still nothing compared to what you and me went through under the Regime, and we turned out--”

“No.” Moses spoke quietly but with the sudden emphasis of a shout. “It doesn't work like that, Hank. Everybody's story—and the way it affects them—is different. Being hurt by an enemy isn't the same as being hurt by someone who ought to be a friend. And we always had each other—Hunter had to face everything alone.”

Hank took a deep breath and spoke as if with an effort. “Look, I get that. I really do. I won't say that I don't feel a little sorry for him—but that doesn't change the facts. Hunter is a criminal, and the only defense you can make is that he's mentally unstable—and a mentally unstable criminal is the last sort of person that Erin should be around. It just bugs me that neither of you can see that.”

“I see that, and I think Erin does, too. But we couldn't do any of the things we do if we were afraid of taking risks.” He paused and, after a second, added, “And I think Erin would be more okay with you being so over-protective if she knew why.”

For just a second, a flush of red showed through Hank's tan, and he spoke quickly and with a note that was very unlike him. “There's no special reason. It's just—we're a team—isn't that what you're always telling me?”

“Yeah.” For just a second, it had looked as if Moses was going to laugh, but suddenly, he was serious. “Hank, I know you don't like this. You—me—Erin—we don't see alike on a lot of things. But we're a team—more than a team—Erin's my sister, and you're like my brother. And since we have the dragon gauntlets, we are a unit, an army.” He pushed back in his chair and stood up. “If we don't stand together, we won't last. You know what we face—we have a target on us because of who we are. We chose to hide in plain sight. We have to stand together.” He looked down and spoke in a very low voice as if embarrassed. “I had a dream about us last night. We were back at that warehouse—and we had turned on each other. We were fighting each other, and everything was on fire. That's what I'm afraid of.”

To anyone else, Hank would have returned an angry outburst at the very suggestion that he might someday turn on his friends. But he couldn't yell at Moses, and he knew that no matter how hard Moses tried, life had robbed him of the ability to have complete faith in anyone. So, instead, he gave a frustrated sigh and said, “I'll think about it.”

“That's all I'm asking for.”

Hank stood up. “I'm going to see if I can pick up any more leads. If this is really some kind of big operation, there has to be some kind of trail.” He put his hand on the door and then stopped abruptly and turned back to Moses. “Did you say fire?”

*

The evening was hot and the air hung heavy and oppressive—even by Santa Barbaran standards. Under other circumstances, Erin would have been tempted to transform just to escape the heat. The only good thing about the weather was that she couldn't say whether she was sweating because of the heat or nervousness. She had switched her ordinary purse for a dusty sort of satchel of Moses's (as something less likely to catch attention) and she kept her hand tightly clamped over it—fortunately, this was a common precaution when walking in most parts of El Capital. No one was likely to suspect that she was ready to turn into a dragon at the first sign of trouble.

About forty percent of her nerves were merely from the fact of walking through this part of town at all. But the rest were because of Hunter. Well, not so much Hunter himself, exactly. Rather, she was worried about herself, worried about whether she would be able to get through to him, afraid that she might say or do the wrong thing and ruin her chance.

The previous night, after her talk with Hunter, she had flown over the area in her dragon form and memorized the location of their proposed rendezvous. However, she had only seen the building from the outside. She had assumed it was another warehouse.

But as she slipped inside, she was puzzled to understand what the place was. It was set up almost like an office, divided into smaller compartments—a few even had desks and loose stacks of papers. But there were also rooms filled with barrels and sacks and—she stopped for a second and stared—that was clearly ammunition and a few guns and some other things she couldn't identify but which looked dangerous. Was all of this Hunter's?

“You made it.” There was relief and perhaps a little surprise in Hunter's voice. Erin looked up and saw him standing in a small compartment, empty except for a rickety desk. Hunter stood casually behind the desk, his gun leaning at his side. On the desk were two small machines. Erin's heart beat faster. Were those the missing heating elements?

She tried to sound as genuine as possible. “Next time, can you pick a better meeting place? I hate coming out here—especially at night.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Hunter spoke quickly--not without sincerity, but clearly his mind was on something else. “You got it?”

“The papers from your—from Dr. Lee? Yes, they're right here.” She pulled the report from her satchel and lay it on the desk.

Hunter grabbed the papers eagerly; with a different kind of paper, his expression would have been called lustful. He flipped through the pages, his eyes moving quickly over the words.

Erin wondered what he hoped to find. She had read over the report and hadn't seen anything interesting, very little even intelligible. Had Hunter become better at science than her in the interim?

Hunter pursed his lips and gave an almost silent whistle. She knew that meant he was excited about something. After a second, he put the papers down again. “So that's how it is.”

“Well.”

“Well?”

“Well, are you going to tell me what this is all about?” Erin didn't want to blow her cover, but there was no way that at any point in her life, she would have gone along with all this without asking questions.

“Erin--” Hunter ducked his head and focused his eyes on the wall somewhere to Erin's left-- “it's better if you're not involved in this.”

“And I'm not involved already? What are those things anyway?” She motioned to the objects on the desk. “Is that what that report was on? The things stolen from that warehouse the other day?”

Hunter nodded without looking up.

“And you stole them?”

He threw his head back with a motion like an explosion. “It wasn't like that. I wasn't the thief. I mean, yeah, I did steal these two. But I wanted to figure out why those other guys were after them. That's the whole reason I came back here.”

Erin looked at him quizzically.

“I happened to overhear something about the robbery plans.” He had looked back down now—but he wasn't simply staring into space. He had started disassembling the heating elements, stringing some of the components across the desk as he talked. “So I rushed back here—I tried to take down the robbers the other night, but the dragons got in the way. So I nicked a couple of these and tried to figure out why someone wanted them.”

“You—you were trying to stop the robbers?” repeated Erin, so surprised that she didn't even try to analyze whether that was the proper thing to say.

“They weren't just robbers,” Hunter went on, seeming calm now. “It's some kind of gang. This is their base.”

Of course. There were plenty of gangs operating throughout El Capital, and that would explain the various items within the building. But it still didn't explain-- “So why are you here?”

For the first time since they met that evening, he looked her directly in the face. His jet-black eyes somehow seemed to glow with a light of their own in the dim reflection of the single electric bulb above him. “Now that I know—I'm going to burn this place to the ground.”

Erin took a step backward. “Wh--”

Hunter went on but she couldn't tell whether he was talking to her or himself. “I'll never let them get away with stealing from him. What kind of guy would let some thugs steal from his own—and besides, he always said I wouldn't accomplish anything worthwhile, and I guess this is worthwhile--”

“You're crazy,” said Erin, and as she said the words she realized she wasn't sure how literally she meant them.

“Really? I thought you would understand.” For just a second, Erin almost thought there were tears in his eyes, though his voice sounded more angry than hurt.

“This is insane. And if you light this building on fire, half the neighborhood will probably burn.”

He shrugged. “It's a rotten neighborhood anyway.”

“I can't let you do this.”

Once again, he turned the full gaze of his eye on her and, once again, she had the weird feeling that they glowed with a light of their own. “Erin, we're friends. Aren't we? Or was that all a lie? Did you just pretend to be my friend? Are you actually just spying on me for your brother and his new friends? Or was it always a lie?” His voice was changing—it grew higher in pitch and much less confident, reminding her that for all the things he had done, he was still a boy and not a man. “All that time—back then—were you just laughing at me behind my back? Like everyone else?”

“No. Hunter, I am your friend. But this—no, I can't let you--”

For an instant, his eyes closed and he gave out something like a scream, as if in sudden pain. He pulled his gun, and Erin instinctively hit the floor, reaching into her satchel. The time for secrecy was over. But there was no gunshot. As she pulled her dragon gauntlet onto her hand, she looked up to see that Hunter and his gun were gone—but that the room was filled with smoke, and there were already flames leaping off the desk.

A moment later, Erin Moreland was gone, and the crimson bulk of the Vesp Dragon confronted the blaze. There was no time to think about Hunter now. Of course, in her dragon form, the fire couldn't hurt her, but she also didn't see how she was going to put it out. Santa Barbara had no good measure to counteract fires, and in a crowded part of town like this, a fire could spread for miles. And that was aside from what would happen once the fire reached the hazardous materials stored in the warehouse.

She glanced up. They were near the top of the warehouse here.

Erin felt a grim smile within her mind, though the dragon's face couldn't form that subtle of an expression. What was it Moses and Hank had been telling her the other day? That she needed to be more effective in using her powers? Well, this was a good time to start.

She looked upwards and raised both hands towards the ceiling. From her hands there shot out two beams of red light which struck the ceiling, obliterating it. As a dragon, she could create and manipulate many kinds of energy, but this particular kind produced little heat, which was the most important thing at the moment.

She dove forward, wrapping her arms around the desk. With the flames lapping around her body, she gave a single flap of her wings, propelling herself skyward through the hole she had opened in the roof. Once she had reached a safe distance above the building, she generated a burst of fire between her hands. The dragon fire was so hot that it obliterated the burning desk, leaving nothing behind except for some soot that floated downward.

As soon as she was sure the desk was gone, she dove downward, landing with a slight crash in the office. The desk had been the center of the fire and getting it out had prevented the fire from spreading too quickly. But there were still small trails of fire running through the building and in somewhere like this, it wouldn't take long for that to turn into a problem. And for all the powers of a dragon, she couldn't really see how she could stop all the fire in time.

But as she stood and tried to think of her next move, there was a rushing sound, and two figures dropped to the floor beside her.

“That fireball was a little much for a signal, but at least we could see it from a long ways away,” commented the Nox Dragon in a careless voice.

“Are you okay?” asked the Lux Dragon, turning to her.

Even in the midst of the excitement, Erin noticed that must have been worried about her—the boys both spoke in voices far more like their normal human voices than usual when their dragon forms. “I'm fine. But this fire...”

“On it.”

Erin glanced at the Nox Dragon as a stream of white foam shot out at the fire. For just an instant she doubted herself. Was that another dragon power she didn't know about? The next moment, she realized that he was holding some kind of canister which was the source of the foam. The Lux Dragon held an identical device. “Are those fire extinguishers?”

The Lux Dragon nodded. “I didn't think it would come to this, but Nox thought we'd better be prepared just in case.”

It was all over quickly. The fire hadn't gotten too much of a head start and it couldn't meet this attack. Two minutes later, there was no sign of the fire except for burnt wood and the gaping hole in the roof.

*

“I don't understand how you knew to bring fire extinguishers,” commented Erin curiously. It was much later, and the three of them were sitting in Moses' office, discussing the events of the evening. “How could you have known that Hunter was going to burn the building down?”

Moses glanced at Hank, who was hunched back in his chair, studying the grain of the desk with a focused intensity. “It was Hank who figured it out. It was all in Dr. Lee's report—one of the problems he was trying to work through was that certain parts of those heating elements were extremely flammable. He just saw it as a problem, but Hank realized that to some people that could be a weapon—a sort of fire bomb, I guess. We guessed you weren't expecting something like that, so we decided to try to find you and warn you—or at least see how things were going. And we brought the extinguishers, just in case.” There was a pause, and then he asked, “So it was Hunter who started that fire? He wasn't working with the gang that stole them?”

Erin shook her head. “No.” She briefly explained the events that had taken place in the office.

Moses frowned thoughtfully. “So he was trying to stop them—because they were stealing from Dr. Lee? Is that it?”

“I think so. I think--” Erin paused, and then went on-- “I think maybe he was trying to make up for what he did before.”

“That doesn't make much sense,” said Hank, not looking up.

Erin didn't say anything. She knew it would make even less sense if she had said what she really thought: that, after all this time, Hunter was still, in some insane way, searching for the one thing he had never been able to get, even as a child—his father's approval. “I guess you two were right,” she said finally, looking down at her hands. “Hunter isn't still the boy I used to be friends with. He's changed. Or maybe he's right and we never were really friends. We spent a lot of time together, but maybe I didn't know him as well as I thought I did. I guess I shouldn't have trusted him.”

“Well, in the end, he did us a favor,” said Moses, uncomfortably. “We know about that gang now, and we got some information from that warehouse. We'll start tracking it down in the morning, but we should be able to round them up. I half wonder if they might be the ones behind that protection racket we were looking for before. That would round things out nicely. I'll have to check--”

He was interrupted by a knock, followed a moment later by Dr. Lee, who moved into the office with stiffer-than-normal movements. “Mr. Moreland, I have been informed of the events of this evening.”

“Oh...” said Moses in a rather uncertain voice. He started fiddling with the papers on his desk.

“I cannot absolve myself of a certain sense of responsibility in this matter. The fact that someone who was once—in some degree—associated with myself should--”

“You mean Hunter?” asked Erin in a slightly impatient voice.

Dr. Lee seemed to pause to swallow. “Yes,” he said in a terse voice. He deigned to move his head to stare at the very top of Erin's head. “I knew he had gone beyond the pale of all human decency, but to think that he would attack you proves that he has lost even the last shred of character--”

“Actually, he didn't attack her.” Hank spoke for the first time since they arrived in the office, though still without looking up. “He was clearly angry with her. And he could have attacked. He had a weapon at his disposal—it would have been easy for him to hurt her or kill her if he wanted. She could have transformed, of course, but he didn't know that. But all he did he start a fire and leave—if she hadn't stayed to fight the fire, she could have just left without any issues. He had his chance, and he didn't do anything to hurt her. I don't think that puts him completely outside the pale of human decency.”

Dr. Lee gave a strange expression, like a slight twitch. “Yes, well, perhaps. In any event, at least you are safe now.”

“Yes,” agreed Moses, looking up. “Anyway, I don't think there's anything more you can do. But maybe you should try looking into something else to fix the hot water problem—those heating elements are a little too dangerous.”

“Yes, I see that.” And with a slight nod, he was gone.

Erin was staring at Hank with a strange expression and the instant the scientist was gone, she asked: “Why did you stick up for Hunter?”

Hank shrugged and didn't look at her. “I just said what happened.”

“I wonder—do you think this means that there is still some good in Hunter?”

Moses pushed forward in his chair. “There's something Pastor Rivers told me this afternoon. He said that love hopes all things and endures all things.” He looked up to meet Erin's eyes. “You're right that Hunter isn't the same boy you used to know. He isn't your old friend. But maybe that doesn't mean that we can't still hope and try to help him if we can.”

Erin sighed. “I think I know what you mean.”

“Never stop fighting and never stop hoping,” commented Hank in a voice that might have been serious or ironic. He looked up finally: “Isn't that all we can ever do?”

No one answered. And for a long time, the three of them sat in silence, as the darkness grew deeper and deeper in the streets outside.