Through the spy-glass, Kelsey saw a hellscape. Fire, rising high and hungry as it spread through the close-built wooden houses of the lower part of the city. The roofs she could see were roughly hewn, all cost spared in haste to erect taxable living arrangements for the poorer class of workers, in as close a space as was allowed. What building cost was spared in coin was now being reaped in life. Smoke plumes carried ash across the city, and a sudden unfavorable twist of the wind cast it east, towards the point on the outer wall where she stood. Swearing, she lifted her bandanna from where it rested about her neck to a snug fit over her lower face, shielding her nose and mouth from the ash. It did nothing to keep the acrid stench of boiling pitch and burnt flesh from stinging at the back of her throat. The screams and crackling of the fire were faint, but the wind carried them well enough.

"Do you see it?" came a call from below. One of the hunting party assembled was looking up at her expectantly from the ground, some twenty feet down. There were thirty men, all of them city guards, waiting for release like hounds on leashes. Restless, they paced, swords gripped tight by some, bows and spears by others. They needed a direction.

"The entire western side's ablaze," Kelsey called down, hastily. "A moment more!"

The men below balked at this, and some raised their voices in complaint, but the one who'd yelled up at her quickly regained order.

Kelsey paid little mind apart from a brief feeling of anxious gratitude, going back to staring through the spyglass. It was difficult to see anything through the flame and the smoke. She thought she caught a gleam, and turned the glass towards it. There: a wing, stretching up above a roof like a sail. She cast about for a landmark.

"I see it! East of the white steeple, about three blocks."

With a great whoop, the men were off, darting through the cobblestone streets and baying for dragon's blood. Kelsey was not one to be left behind, and she still had the man's spyglass in any case, the one who had seemed like he was in charge. She scrambled down the wall the same way she'd gone up: a series of narrow grooves carved into the stone for spidering up and down. She jumped the last few feet and stumbled, catching herself against the wall. Then she was off, running with a hand on her own sword even as she tucked the glass securely away in her beltpouch. She was light of foot, and caught up with the men in a few moments.

"You get dragons here often?" she called out somewhat breathlessly as she pulled alongside the one in charge.

He glanced at her, surprise evident in his features. "You should have stayed on the wall. This is no place for civilians," he huffed.

Then there was no point in saying anything else, as they encountered the waves of people fleeing the fiery heart of the city and the flying death that lay in wait. It was an audible assault, and anything said would have been mercilessly drowned in that sea of primordial noise: crashing, wailing, crying, screaming. The hunters pressed through the scrum. It was hard going against that tide of bodies. Then, suddenly and without warning, the streets were cleared. They'd reached the very edge of the conflagration.

"Right," one of the men said, unsheathing his sword. "What's the plan?"

"I don't know how long we'll last in that smoke," said another critically. "Bandanas over our faces?"

"Soaked in water, that would help," Kelsey commented.

The man in charge eyed her, took in her sword where it hung in its scabbard as though seeing it for the first time. "Aye, that would be of help," he said. "Someone run to the well, fetch a bucket back. You."

One of the younger men was indicated, and he raced off. Talk turned to a plan of action, but an ear-shattering roar broke over them like a wave, and a shadow flitted across the ground. Kelsey's head snapped up, her eyes catching a glimpse of a scaly tail, red with black barbs and thick as a man's torso, snaking over a nearby roof.

The men burst into clamor. "There it is! Out of the pan and into the fire, boys!" someone cried, and as one they burst into motion.

Kelsey swore, but kept belated pace. This was no way to tackle a dragon, mindless running about. It was like to get them all killed. But maybe she could keep one or two from dying.

"Archers at the back!" she roared. "Spearmen to the front! Partner with the swords! Bait and switch, damn you! Bait and switch!"

Someone heard her, and when she reached the line the men were roughly organized. Then she saw the dragon and gave no more thought to their lines.

It stood in the unmarred cobblestone road, houses on either side eerily untouched by flame, and as it stretched its neck up to sway side to side like a snake, its head just broke even with the rooftop. It was red-scaled, its coloring a deep, rich rose, and wicked dark spikes lined its spine. Its eyes were baleful orange, glaring out from beneath a heavy brow set like stone in a gargoyle's face, and its mouth opened to show a set of terribly blood-stained teeth, each the size of a man's head. Its talons, equally massive, restlessly kneaded the ground beneath paws as large as a horse, drawing great furrows in the stone.

Kelsey recognized the coloring, combined with the angular shape of the head and the penchant for fire-breathing: it was a Kazamir, separated from the thunders of its kind many miles to the south. A chill ran down her spine despite the heat. A Kazamir, deadly guardian of the deserts, herald of dust storms and swallower of towns. It was young, she thought as she eyed the stunted dual claws on its inner wrists, so their plucky crew of fighters stood a chance despite not being trained to fight dragons. Good. She would not have liked to die in vain, duty or not.

Everything stood still, frozen as the two parties sized the other up.

"Shoot its damn eye out already!" someone shouted, his voice high and anxious.

And just like that, the dragon wailed, and its head snapped forwards like a striking snake to drag away a man, kicking and screaming as he was bitten nearly in two. Kelsey noticed someone had actually snapped off a shot and gotten damn near close to the eye. The dragon rocked back in surprise, dropping the man to the ground. Good marksmanship, but not quite good enough.

The spear men started forward, stabbing at the dragon. Knowing the speed of that strike taught them to stay near to their swordsmen, and their swordsmen were quick to cleave wounds in the dragon's neck when it struck forwards. Some weren't quick enough, some were. A few such attempts frustrated the dragon, and it grew more cautious, more wily in its strikes. It began to bait the men close, and claw at them when they got in range.

The archers kept up a steady rate of fire, as was their job. They only needed one lucky hit, and it came soon enough. The dragon reared up, paws going up to its face as it roared in fury. Its throat glowed, swelled, and its mouth yawed wide. The air shimmered with a building heat. It was about to heave fire over them.

"Its throat! Down its throat!" Kelsey yelled hoarsely from where she stood at the back, calling shots and taking them with someone's spare bow. She was speedy enough to snap one off as the others followed suit.

The dragon choked on the bushel of arrows poking out of its throat, then swayed and collapsed. The heat in the air dwindled, and a ragged cheer went up. It was dead.

They would later find that in all the arrows the beast swallowed, only one had pierced the roof of its mouth and sunk into the brain. The man responsible never had to pay for another drink when he went to the local tavern. He was indeed the one who had fired that first excellent shot that nearly removed the dragon's eye.

The men hurried in to give aid to the wounded, some scattering off to do who knows what. Kelsey paid them no mind. She approached the warm length of scales, gingerly picking her way over the bloody stones.

There was only the one casualty, shockingly enough. Plenty of wounded, but no others killed outright, though their wounds were telling. It was curious that the fight had been so cheaply won, and that curiosity lead her to look over the body. The right wing was odd to look at, she thought. Then she saw it had been sliced nearly in half, the majority of the wing attached only by a sinewy rope of skin and flesh and thin bone, cracked and exposed to the air.

A picture formed in her head. The dragon hadn't been moving on to a new street to wreak havoc. It was fleeing whatever had caused it such damage, but of course it couldn't have gotten far, not with its wing in such disrepair. Likely it had managed a fluttering sort of leap, paused to recover, then been caught by their small but capable group.

The buildings, Kelsey looked up and around, were too high for it to have leaped onto them comfortably from the ground. It would have needed to claw its way up, then jump from the roof. She eyed the smashed stone underfoot. A miscalculated landing, perhaps? If its damaged wing dragging along unbalanced it as it leapt, that might have been enough to send it to the ground.

"You help out with dragons often?" someone behind her asked.

She turned. It was the man she'd identified as the group's leader.

"If it comes up," she replied neutrally.

He snorted. "You've some good ideas for something that just comes up. But we appreciate it. I'm Captain Brian, day watch." He held out his hand, and Kelsey gave it a firm shake.

"Kelsey." She omitted any kind of title, which the good captain couldn't help but notice. Perhaps he would wonder, perhaps not. "It's good to meet you, captain. Your men do you credit. Do they need anymore hands to contain the fire?"

He shook his head. "No. We've done our jobs, and you've done your part; more than I could have expected, really. I've sent a runner to the fire crews, and they'll do their part, or I'll pour dragon fire over their heads myself."

She nodded. "Just as well. You see, I find myself wondering not about the fire, but about who might be in it. Did you notice this wing?"

Captain Brian peered down at it. "Well that's something you don't see every day."

"So you were unaware a dragon hunter had entered the city?"

"A dragon hunter?"

Kelsey raised an eyebrow. "Come now, Captain. These wounds were clearly caused by specialty weaponry; if you were ignorant of their marks, why then, I question the system that allowed you to rise to your current rank."

He bristled, and answered in a clipped voice. "No, not unaware. This is a large city; often there are two or three hunters that announce themselves in a month, yes, but it's more common that they come for different business, and remain undisclosed."

Kelsey hummed, unimpressed. "Is it the watch's policy to allow unregistered hunters to conduct business, then?"

Captain Brian stared at her coldly. "It occurs to me that your line of questioning encroaches on what goodwill you earned today, stranger. Unless you have proof of person, I suggest you move on."

"Hm." Kelsey pulled out the spyglass, and a heavy vellum envelope. She handed both of these to the captain, who accepted with some reluctance. "You'll find my credentials impeccable, I'm sure."

He looked over the glass first, then turned his attention to the envelope. "Strange seal," he mused.

"Yes, I imagine you haven't seen the Royal Aviation Corps seal before."

The captain looked at her sharply, before laughing. "Excuse me? The what?"

Kelsey's jaw clenched imperceptibly, then relaxed. "The Royal Aviation Corps."

His grin widened. "So you're from that, then?"

"Yes."

"You know, we weren't even sure that thing was real! That it was some joke the boys in the next town over were pulling on us." His tone implied it was still what he thought.

Kelsey smiled thinly. "I can assure you that it is quite real. As real as this dragon we slew today."

"Oh, now I've got to see this." He tore open the vellum gleefully, and began reading the note within. The smile slid off his face.

"Everything to your satisfaction, captain?" Kelsey asked, perhaps a little cruelly.

He cleared his throat, gingerly sliding the letter into the envelope and attempting to fold it closed. "Yes, it all seems to be in order... Banneret?"

Kelsey smiled. "Yes, that is my rank. But just Kelsey will do. Then, if would you be so good as to conduct me to the Duke of Allentown's residence, I would be much obliged."

He nodded slowly. "Of course, Bann- Kel- sir. I'll send for a runner at once."

That wouldn't do. She needed a guide, someone with the rank to push through any barriers at the Duke's she might encounter in this time of uncertainty and fear, and here was one who'd proved himself capable and honest. She looked about. The chaos seemed to have ordered itself. She judged there was no immediate need for the captain here.

"In fact, if you could be spared, captain, I'd appreciate your company," Kelsey gently suggested. It was not a suggestion, and for all of his apparent transparency, the man did understand nuance. Another mark of a good guide.

"Of course," he replied graciously with a momentary pause, which went almost unnoticed. He called over a ranking sergeant with traces of blood on his cheek to pass off a list of orders. Kelsey waited anxiously by, but strove for the impression of patience as she squatted down to pry off a scale from the wing, tucking it neatly away in a folded bit of clean cloth to store in her pouch for later examination.

The captain signaled for her, and they left, pacing quickly through the smoky streets.

"This might be a stupid question," the captain began, raising his voice to be heard over the sounds of the city still in crisis. "But can't your business with the duke wait?"

Kelsey shook her head. "Unfortunately no." She caught sight of his face. It was screwed up in distaste. She could guess why. "If the circumstances of the emergency were different, I would, of course, have insisted on aiding those battling the fire and helping with the wounded. But the very nature of the fire demands my immediate attention."

He still did not looked convinced, so she added in a sharper voice, "I have my orders, sir, and I will attend to them. All I will say is that if I do not take action now, today, not tomorrow or the day after, I will miss a vital opportunity. One that does not come often or as neatly as the one presented to me now. And that cannot be allowed."

With that, she pressed forward, forcing Brian to hurry to maintain his lead. They wasted no more time on idle discussion, which was well. It was rare, after all, that a dragon egg in reach of humanity was activated by the heat of dragon fire. Now it was only a matter of days before her mission cracked itself open.