The attack on Berserker Island was Krogan's idea. "We know Oswald the Agreeable found at least one lens – a lens made to be used with 5 others," he said. "What if he had more?"

"If he did, Berserker Island is the one place we can be sure we won't find them," was Viggo's opinion. "The riders have had plenty of time to see to that."

"Not if they never knew they were there," Krogan insisted.

Viggo grinned broadly in amusement. "Yes, I'm sure they never would have considered such an obvious possibility. Only a mind of your caliber could make such a brilliant induction."

With a bored roll of his eyes, Johann stabbed a single knife into the table between them. "This routine is becoming tiresome, gentlemen." Viggo had watched this scene unfold enough times to know what came next: "Since we have no way of knowing if Oswald found more lenses or not, it would seem the only efficient thing to do is to rule it out. Does that sound logical to you, Viggo?" The question was asked in a tone that forbade argument. When none came, Johann resheathed his knife and unrolled a map of the island on the table. "Naval attack only. No dragons. We'll draw all their defenses to the shore while a smaller party sneaks onto the island from the other side; with all the guards occupied, they should be able to search thoroughly for any lenses or other clues without trouble."

Viggo couldn't resist asking, "And how long do you calculate it will take to search an entire island for items small enough to fit in the palm of your hand?"

Johann answered exactly as Viggo predicted: "One of the most useful benefits of my chosen cover is the familiarity it gives you with the islands that welcome you so heartily. I know Oswald's village as if it were my own." As usual, the man's arrogance blinded him to the flaws in his plan. "Which is why I will lead the search teams. Krogan will lead the attack. You, Viggo, will assist him."

Viggo kept his face expressionless as Krogan grinned at him in satisfaction. "Don't worry – I'll let you captain one of the ships."

Viggo was strongly tempted to ask them what they were afraid of, but that might make his situation even more precarious than it had been ever since he'd fulfilled his purpose by recovering and repairing the Dragon Eye. He would not help them find the courage to dispose of the man they knew was too dangerous to keep around, which was why he made no more objections to their plan to search through a haystack for a needle.

"I look forward to it," Viggo said before he turned and left. It was true – if nothing else, it would be entertaining to watch. And who knew who they might run into? It had been a long time since he'd seen the young Berserker chief or his sister...

To Viggo's disappointment, none of the Berk dragon riders were anywhere to be seen the night of the attack. Unsurprising, as it was exactly what Johann's spies had told them, but still, Hiccup would have added some excitement to this comedic farce.

It apparently took the Berserker leaders about ten minutes to figure out that an attack done solely with ships by men they knew to have trained dragons must be a diversion. Poised on the upper deck of his ship with a spyglass to his only remaining eye, Viggo chuckled as he watched the chief send his soldiers back to the village, leaving the Triple Stryke and the Razorwhip to raze the fleet (pity that masts, sails, and tillers couldn't be made of dragon-proof metal...). Trying to limit the damage as much as possible, he ordered his own crew to fire their catapults. The boulders they wasted did nothing but draw the riders' attention to them.

This should at least be amusing. Viggo looked up with his trademark grin as his old teammates flew over the ship, dodging a barrage of arrows. Judging by Dagur's grimace and Heather's wide-eyed gasp, Astrid hadn't gotten a good enough look at him that night to warn them about the change the volcano had made in their former leader.

Its three tails unfurling as fast as a whip, the Triple Stryke scooped six men off the bow of the lower deck and into the ocean, while the Razorwhip sliced the arms off three catapults without landing. All simultaneously choosing the safer target, the remaining men surrounded Dagur. He and his dragon easily held their own against them, but they were too busy for anything more ambitious. Good – his sister had always made the more interesting opponent.

But there was one important difference between her and Hiccup – if given the chance, she wouldn't hesitate to kill. As her dragon circled above the ship again, Viggo called to his archers, "Concentrate your fire on the Razorwhip!" Even its hide was vulnerable to dragonroot arrows. As he'd expected, Heather responded to this fresh assault not by retreating higher but by flying straight at her attackers, her dragon's hellishly hot breath forcing them to drop their bows and back away from the heat. The beast circled around for another blast, and in the middle of that charge, Heather leaped from its back onto the stern of the lower deck. While the Razorwhip continued the attack on the men, Heather unfolded her battle axe, raised her head, and stared at her enemy on the deck above her.

For a moment, the two simply held each other's gaze, Viggo smiling as serenely as ever, both hands behind his back, Heather's eyes showing equal amounts of shock and murderous hatred. To be fair, that distinctive look of stupefied disgust might only have been so obvious to Viggo because he'd gotten so used to it over the past few months. So even Heather wasn't immune to the effect the first glance of his face now had on everyone.

Once he'd decided he'd given the girl enough time to absorb the sight, Viggo unsheathed his sword. "Heather, so nice to see you again. I was worried I might never get to thank you for the wonderful lens you gave us – most generous of you."

Heather snarled at him as she raised her axe. "You're a terrible person, you know that?!"

… Viggo unsheathed his sword. "Come now, it's not that bad, is it?"

Heather shrugged as she wrapped both hands around her axe. "Eh... I've seen worse."

… Viggo unsheathed his sword. "Impressive, wouldn't you say?"

"Pfft," Heather scoffed. "I've seen boys half your age wear it better."

… Viggo unsheathed his sword. "Come now, don't act like you've never seen a burn scar before."

"It's not the scar that's disgusting," Heather said before running towards him.

… Viggo unsheathed his sword. "It's a thrilling story, actually – I'll have to tell you someday."

"Not another scar story..." Heather groaned sarcastically as she raised her axe.

… Viggo unsheathed his sword. "I'm impressed – the last woman who saw it almost fainted."

"No such luck tonight," Heather warned him as she held her axe toward him. "I'm used to it."

… Viggo unsheathed his sword.

Heather raised her axe at the same time. "I told my brother jumping into a volcano never solves any problems," she said as she charged towards him.

… Viggo unsheathed his sword. "You look terrible," Heather bluntly told him.

"Is that any way to speak to a man who's been waiting all night for you?"

… Viggo unsheathed his sword. "Just like old times, isn't it, my dear?"

Gritting her teeth and gripping her axe in both hands, Heather whispered icily, "Feels like I've been looking forward to this forever..."

… Viggo unsheathed his sword, remembering with pleasure his last, far-too-brief skirmish with Heather. "Here for a rematch?"

She raised her axe with a confident smile. "Trust me, Viggo – it's not gonna be much of a match."