The world spun around Viggo as the Bewilderbeast thrashed, dragging its head through his precious empire in its agony. He was securely wedged between two of the many spikes jutting out from the massive dragon's head like a natural crown, but several of his men were not so well-secured, and fell into the horrible destruction happening below them as the dragon dragged its head along the ground.
This was a lot of damage. It was going to take months to fix everything, assuming Viggo survived to have anything fixed at all.
But, as the seconds passed and the Bewilderbeast continued to flail, still with its head and back tilted to the side, Viggo realized something terrible.
The acid ate down, and expended itself in the process. But now, down was not towards the dragon's spine and vitals. Down was to the side, through flesh and bone, but not in the right direction.
This wasn't going to kill it.
Viggo's plans abruptly shifted. He looked out from between the two spines keeping him aboard the enemy dragon, and mentally measured the distance from where he was to the ground. He had to get off of this dragon before the acid used itself up. Once the dragon recovered from the pain, it would stand upright, and make getting off much harder, if not outright impossible.
But he was too high up. Viggo grimaced, understanding his options and not liking them. He could jump from here and probably die, or he could try to climb down what was now a vertical maze of thin platforms, down through the spike crown, and hopefully get low enough that falling would not be fatal. Either way, he had to get off.
Climb it was, then. Viggo pushed himself out from between the two spikes that had secured him, and only barely managed to grab one before falling down, clinging to one of the spikes.
This was going to be difficult. The only thing that made it doable at all was that the Bewilderbeast had stopped thrashing for the moment.
No time for safety. Viggo let go of the spike above him and landed on the one directly below, and then immediately slid to the side, hitting another a few feet down. It was more of a controlled fall than a climb, but he was moving fast, descending rapidly enough that he might actually make it down. Bruised in every possible place, but alive nonetheless.
Viggo grimaced as a particularly long fall jolted every bone in his body. He did not like improvising. Even for him, planning on the fly was messy and imperfect. He might be a genius capable of outthinking anything that lived, but that took time, and improvising lacked exactly that.
Still, this plan was working. He was close enough to jump, now. The Bewilderbeast shifted-
And Viggo lost his grip, accidentally losing the chance to aim his descent anywhere but straight down. He fell the remaining distance and crashed through the ceiling of a small warehouse, falling awkwardly.
The jarring, bone-breaking impact he had been given a split second to prepare for never came. The ground was soft, underneath the tile roofing he had crashed through.
This warehouse stored… Viggo calculated where he was, wondering at the fact that he was still alive despite losing control.
Sails. This warehouse stored nothing but canvas sails. His fall had been broken by his own genius.
All according to plan. Viggo scrambled off of the pile of sailcloth that had saved his life and out the front entrance of the half-collapsed warehouse, quickly reorienting himself to run directly away from the Bewilderbeast. It was getting up now, and he wanted to be nowhere near it.
Moments later, a terrible sound split the air. A Night Fury's shriek, loud and unholy. Viggo slowed to a stop, looking around worriedly.
He was a planner, one who maneuvered and fought with his intellect. He had no plan for this.
Whatever this was. Viggo knew of only one Night Fury here… and that same Fury had promised to kill him if it ever saw him again. Ember.
There was movement behind him, and Viggo spun, drawing the short sword he always kept on his person for moments like this. But it was just a small group of his own men, who seemed as shocked to see him as he was to see them.
"Get me out of here," he immediately commanded. "To the command tower, if it's still standing." He needed to know what was going on.
O-O-O-O-O
Beryl watched in worried confusion as the Bewilderbeast thrashed, stilled, and then got up with apparent new purpose. He, Spark, and Herb had just returned to the air after dropping Valka off to watch over the captive and still enthralled Stormcutter.
"Where is it going?" Spark asked, sounding just as confused as Beryl was. "It's making a mess of this island."
It was, at that, rushing back the way it had come and crushing all before it. The mental pressure it always exerted was weaker now, but not gone, so Beryl and the other two dragons were not in much danger of being taken over imminently. They had a moment to watch.
"The water, apparently," Herb commented, as the Bewilderbeast splashed into the surf, lying on its side, part of it still on the beach. It sprawled there, its massive sides heaving, and stopped moving.
"So… it is not dead," Spark observed. "Right?"
"If the mental pressure stops, then it's dead," Beryl explained, feeling the pressure dropping even as he spoke. "Probably." He had no idea what Viggo or Ember had done, and actually, no idea where either of those two were right now, but something had happened, and one of them was probably responsible.
A few moments later, the Bewilderbeast spasmed and howled horribly, and the pressure was gone entirely, as if it had never existed.
"There." That was the main goal of all if this accomplished. "Let's go meet Valka and make sure she gets the Stormcutter out of this." Ember was more than capable of taking care of himself for the moment, and the females were still up above, safely out of the fight.
"Good idea," Herb agreed. "Where are they, again?"
Beryl led the way, and they swooped down into the street, passing over cages of captured dragons. All of these could be opened later; right now, getting the people he knew personally out of this place took precedence.
There, that was the cage group including the Stormcutter. Beryl blasted at the few men guarding the cages, easily scattering them, and landed, followed by Spark and Herb.
Valka stepped out of a shadowy corner nearby. "What are you doing?"
"The Bewilderbeast is dead; you can get the Stormcutter out of here now," Beryl explained, surprised Valka had not noticed yet.
"No, it's not," Valka objected, pointing to the cages behind them.
Beryl turned, and for the first time since he had landed, actually looked at the dragons in the cages. One Stormcutter, three Nightmares, and Zippleback.
All with narrowed eyes, slit pupils, and bared teeth. All staring silently. They were obviously still under the Bewilderbeast's control.
"Uhh…" Beryl hummed, entirely lost. What was going on?
"But it is not trying to take us over anymore," Spark said worriedly, seeing the same thing Beryl did. "It is lying motionless in the ocean."
"Is it?" Valka looked from the still-enthralled dragons, to Beryl, and then back again.
"Something is wrong," Herb snarled.
"Yes,very wrong," many voices agreed in unison. The enthralled dragons were all speaking, growls sounding from all the cages nearby, in unison. "But my alpha wants this island for himself, and I cannot afford to defy him until I figure out what has happened to me. This island will be wiped clean of resistance."
The Bewilderbeast was speaking to them, but it still wasn't trying to take them over. It agreed something was wrong, but it didn't care. And it knew where they were. It could control multiple dragons at once.
Beryl suddenly felt like he was being watched, and not just by the eyes he could see. He spun in a tight circle, looking for hidden eyes.
"I would rather have you as servants," the enthralled dragons hissed. "Submit to my alpha and allow him to cage you so that I may take you later, and you will live. Else, I must kill you, for I cannot take you right now."
Well… that explained why it was talking to them in the first place. Despite how strange things were getting, Beryl was still sure of his answer to that proposal. "Fat chance."
"Die, then." The enthralled dragons all opened their mouths-
Beryl leaped to tackle Valka out of the way, throwing the both of them into a side alley just as three different kinds of fires immolated where they had been standing. Even for a dragon, that much fire would have hurt, if not necessarily killed.
"Beryl!" Spark called out. "Valka!"
"Fine," Beryl coughed, letting Valka up. "We need to get away from these cages." There was no telling what else the Bewilderbeast might use its caged thralls for. Best to stay away from them.
Really, it would be best to attack the Bewilderbeast and finish the job. Beryl nudged Valka up towards his back, and she jumped on. In moments, they were in the air. Spark and Herb, singed but largely fine, joined them.
"Now what?" Spark asked worriedly. "It's not dead."
"We have much bigger problems," Herb snarled, looking out to sea. "Much, much, much bigger problems."
Beryl banked in the air to look at what was both enraging and alarming Herb. He didn't see it for a moment.
Then he did, and his heart sank in his chest. Storm, Thorn, and Pearl, circling stiffly over the still body of the Bewilderbeast. Awaiting further orders. He knew what that meant.
"Three on three," Herb snarled, his voice dark and cold. "And we cannot fight to kill. They… he… can."
Now what? Beryl searched his own mind for ideas, and came up with nothing.
Then, as if all of this wasn't enough, things got infinitely worse.
"Sire?" Spark said quietly, looking in a different direction. "Beryl, he does not-"
Beryl knew he didn't have time to look. He could feel just how much danger he was in, in this moment. How much danger they were all in. "Scatter!" he roared, and powered forward, flinging himself and Valka away from the other two Furies as fast as he could.
A deep, familiar roar blasted out from behind Beryl. He spun to the side, barely avoiding a powerful bolt of blue fire.
"Ember's enslaved too!" Valka screamed, clutching to Beryl to avoid being thrown. She must have looked back and saw his slit pupils, or maybe just guessed from the fact that he was trying to kill them.
Beryl knew he didn't have time to look back, even now. He needed to get Ember off of his tail. So, he abruptly folded his wings and dropped, before flaring them and slowing dramatically, far faster than Ember could turn.
The real Ember would not have been shaken by that move; he would probably have anticipated it and tackled Beryl as he slowed, or even blasted him if it was a real fight. But this was not the real Ember, and as a result Ember's controlled body rocketed above and past Beryl, slowing far less quickly, a perfect target-
If Beryl was going to try and kill him. He couldn't do that; not to his Sire and best friend, even if it would only kill one of Ember's bodies. Instead, he took advantage of Ember's preoccupation with slowing down to drop to the ground, landing in a small alleyway, and crouching. Black scales in a dark place. Valka was wearing mostly black too. Ember wouldn't be able to discern them from any great distance, and he had not been looking this way when Beryl dropped down between buildings.
A few seconds passed. Sure enough, Ember did not blast the alleyway, or drop on top of them, clawing and biting.
A distant blast reminded Beryl that the one controlling Ember had other targets. Spark and Herb!
But this was an all-out air battle. "Get off, Valka." He couldn't go into a fight like this with a passenger who wasn't strapped in.
"No," Valka retorted, holding on tightly. "I can't do anything down here."
"You can't do anything up there except fall and die," Beryl retorted hotly.
"And neither can you," Herb remarked, dropping into the alleyway. "Spark is coming. The Bewilderbeast has other targets for Ember right now, apparently. He just stopped chasing and flew to a fight nearby."
"We cannot fight Sire," Spark panted, dropping in on Beryl's other side, filling the small alleyway to capacity. "Not without hurting him."
"We're in a lot of trouble," Beryl summarized sourly. "How do we fix this?" The safe, careful plan that had not involved any more risk than necessary, the plan they had created so long ago, was totally trashed now. Four of them were enthralled, five if one counted the Stormcutter, and the Bewilderbeast showed no signs of doing them all a favor and dying on its own.
"The same way we're keeping the Stormcutter safe," Valka burst out. "Get them into cages."
That wasn't a bad idea. Beryl nodded eagerly. "We can knock Ember out and cage him. That will get him out of the fight." Doing the same for Pearl, Storm, and Thorn would be really, really difficult, but that was a way to safely take down the enthralled Furies. Then they could end the Bewilderbeast, and free their family. Assuming nobody moved the cages…
That was a small risk, and they had no more time to plan. "Spark, Herb, Valka. I want you to trail behind me. I'll lure Ember into a small space, and you hit him from above." It was a sketchy, vague plan, but he couldn't come up with anything better.
"Got it." Herb looked over at Valka. "Come on."
Valka nodded and hopped across to Herb's back. "Beryl, be careful."
"I've played tag with him plenty of times," Beryl quipped. "This time will just be a little more intense."
O-O-O-O-O
Up in the air, the plan they had hastily constructed in a dark alley felt a little less adequately thought through, but it was all they had. Beryl scanned the chaotic warzone quickly, looking for an orange blur of death and blue fire.
From here, he had a good overview of the island. About half of the buildings were trashed, and a good number of Drago's warships had totally or partially sunk. The shores looked like they had been razed by Monstrous Nightmares, sand scorched and melted, bodies everywhere. There was fighting in the streets, demolished and untouched alike, between Viggo's hunters and Drago's soldiers. It was entirely impossible to tell who was winning-
But Drago had help, now. An explosion disrupted a squadron of hunters moving in to join a nearby battle, and Ember pounced from the shadows, tearing into the disoriented ranks of soldiers even as Beryl watched. Ash began to drift in the steady breeze as Ember dismantled the entire group of hunters.
No, not Ember. Beryl forced himself to keep that in mind. This was not Ember, it was the Bewilderbeast, doing what Ember had always opposed doing, shredding through an enemy army.
On the bright side, the Bewilderbeast either didn't know how to use any of Ember's less natural abilities, or was afraid to. A good call; there was no way to know how all of that would interact with what the Bewilderbeast did.
Beryl shook his head, clearing his mind. He wasn't qualified to speculate on what happened when Vithvarandi's curse interacted with mind control, and it would only distract him. His current task was too important for him to be distracted.
Step one: get Ember's attention. Beryl was close now, flying in over the carnage. The places Ember had struck were an odd contrast of smoldering bodies and piles of ash. If one did not know better, one would think the ash results of even more powerful fire.
There was Ember, striking down a cowering hunter, tearing him limb from limb. Beryl winced, both at the violent dismemberment, and at the number of bleeding cuts Ember sported. Nothing major, but not something to dismiss either.
Hopefully, Beryl could get Ember out of the fight before he got any more hurt. The orange Night Fury might not be Ember's only body, but nobody wanted to see him lose it, as it was clearly Ember's favorite of the two when interacting with other dragons.
"Time for round two," Beryl called down, blasting near Ember, intentionally missing. If he had wanted his Sire dead, that might have been his best chance; an unexpected shot to the back of the head.
With a wordless snarl, Ember leaped into the air to chase after him. Again, Beryl was thankful this was not some evil version of Ember, instead of the Bewilderbeast operating a stolen body and maybe picking through memories. The real Ember would never fall for such obvious bait. But the Bewilderbeast either didn't expect a trick, or didn't care if there was one.
Step two: bring Ember to a small, enclosed space. There were a few dotted around the island; Beryl just had to find a convenient one…
With an enraged Night Fury on his tail. Beryl flew low, dipping down to almost skim the road in some places, keeping low to prevent Ember from diving on him. At this height and speed, a tackling dive would probably kill the both of them, and the Bewilderbeast was clearly making good use of Ember's powerful physique and fire to wreak havoc, so he'd want to avoid that.
That didn't mean he'd just follow along, though. Beryl had to pull up to avoid a fiery explosion on the road in front of him, and the moment he was in the air, Ember rushed him, bulling into him and clawing wildly-
Beryl shoved off of Ember and managed to quickly spin out of his grasp, avoiding more than a few shallow cuts. He really didn't want to get any scars from this, both because they'd hurt, and because he knew his Sire would not need permanent reminders of this time. Scars would probably hurt Ember more than Beryl in the long run.
But there needed to be a long run for that to happen. Beryl quickly scanned the area, noting that they were near a large contingent of hunters defending a somewhat tall watch tower near the center of the island. A few streets over, there was a small clearing ringed with taller than average buildings, and a few empty cages-
Perfect! Beryl angled for that spot, happy to pass up on any more aerial combat with his own Sire. Herb, Valka, and Spark were following from a distance, so all he needed to do was drop into the enclosed space, bait Ember down, and then hold him off until the others could get there and knock him out.
Hopefully it really would go that well.
O-O-O-O-O
"Three Furies held in reserve, and one utterly decimating every fight it finds- in Drago's favor," a panting and bloodied scout reported, utterly spent but determined to get through his information before he collapsed. Nothing like a close battle to elicit the most dedication from one's troops. "All dragons that fight for Drago have feral eyes, and some reports say they don't fight as well as they could."
"I know that much," Viggo snapped. "The one killing our men; what color is it?"
"Under the blood, orange," the scout gasped. "Same one some say killed Ryker. Some of its kills dissolve into ash. There's somethin' unnatural abou' it." He was about to faint, by the looks of it.
"Dismissed, rest and prepare to fight," Viggo commanded. He turned away from the scout and considered what he knew.
Ember had implied that the Bewilderbeast messed with the minds of dragons, and that agreed with the little Viggo had gleaned from the old texts on the species. The dragons with feral eyes, what his men called the distinct look involving slit pupils and a lack of emotion aside from rage, were under its control. That apparently included Ember, now.
Which was inconvenient in the extreme, because Ember was proving quite lethal, even under another's control. Viggo had hoped to capture and investigate him, but now he'd have to settle for eliminating him using any possible method. Ember, under the Bewilderbeast, and by extension presumably under Drago, was the single largest threat Drago's forces still had. There were also reports of a blue Night Fury fighting by Drago's side, but those were unsubstantiated.
Viggo moved out from under the shadow of the watch tower, and cast his eyes over his forces. He had called in all of his reserve troops, leaving only a thin layer of front-line fighters to hold Drago off. Having his men concentrated here might have been stupid, but if Ember came calling, the ballista, archers, and spearmen would take him down, assuming he avoided the net launchers and catapults. This plaza was armed to the teeth and specifically geared to prevent aerial assault. That made it a safe staging ground for the time being.
If only he had more troops to work with! Viggo reluctantly called over one of his senior commanders. "Western front."
"Twenty men?" the man asked respectfully.
"Fifteen," Viggo corrected. "Your orders are to slowly retreat inward. Don't let them past you; I need to have some warning before they actually get here." That front was actually doomed, but by telling his men to make it a controlled retreat, he bought himself a little more time, at the expense of more than a tenth of his remaining forces. This was a disaster. Ember had to go before he totally destroyed the rest of Viggo's army.
And speaking of the demon; Viggo instinctively ducked at the rising screech, looking up to see an orange blur dropping onto that same Western front he had just ordered his man to reinforce. Those men were all definitely dead.
Plan. He needed a plan. If not to save this island, then at least to do as much damage to Drago's forces as possible before getting himself away. This was not the entirety of his empire; it couldn't be, given the nature of dealing in dragons, which were far-roaming creatures. But it was his main base of operations, and losing it would set him back years.
Better to be set back years than dead. Viggo grimaced, looking over his model of the island, which had been brought down from the tower to rest on a table out in the plaza. He wasn't going up into the tower himself; one suicidally dangerous strike at it by Ember would kill him were he stupid enough to be in it at the time.
New goals. No longer focusing on winning, how did he use his men to do as much damage as possibe, and how many did he need to get himself away at the end of-
"Sir, look!" someone shouted.
Viggo looked up immediately. If one of his men was risking his anger to alert him of something, it was best to assume whatever they wanted him to see was important.
The man, a soldier with a spear, was pointing into the air over the Western front, jabbing his spear at the sky. "Another Night Fury."
"One of the three reserves?" If those were joining the battle, things were about to get even worse.
"No, this one was black," the man answered quickly. "It dropped down into the Western front, same place as the orange one."
So… either reinforcements, or-
Like a bat out of Helheim- and where had he pulled that expression from; Helheim didn't have bats as far as he knew- the black Fury pulled up into view, somewhat away from the Western front, and the orange bulled into it, tangling the two together for a moment. It was clearly a chase.
Then his men spotted something else. Viggo needed no alert this time; he was already looking, and he could see two more Furies trailing along, clearly shadowing the two fighters.
Viggo knew tactics, and he definitely knew a trap when he saw it. One as bait, two to spring the trap itself. The black one was headed almost directly towards the plaza Viggo stood in, angling a little to the left.
No need to look at his model of the island; there was only one good place to trap a dragon in that direction. Viggo pulled his eyes away from the aerial chase to address some of his other commanders. "What's the situation to the South of us?"
They knew he meant Drago's ground forces. One answered immediately. "One of our best fronts; we're holding for now. Latest scout reports say Drago might be there, but if he is, he hasn't entered the battle yet."
"Are they fighting in the training yard?" That was the perfect place to corner a dragon. High buildings to all sides and an open space in the middle meant one dragon in the air would be able to keep anything from fleeing to the sky, let alone two.
"Not as far as we know, but they might push our front back there," was the reply.
Improvisation was not fun. There was no finesse here. But at least the path was clear, if not all possible outcomes. "We move, now. To that training yard. The orange Fury will be there, fighting the others and unable to leave by air. We watch, and if the opportunity presents itself, take it down."
"And the others?" the soldier asked, clearly about to start barking orders and get everyone moving.
"Follow my lead; if I point my sword at them, them too, but if I don't, do not attack first." Strange things were afoot, and he had a small inkling of what might be going on, hints from something Ember had said earlier leading his mind to a possible explanation. Best to be ready for anything.
O-O-O-O-O
Holding on to most dragons was not hard. Gronckles and Hotburples were lumpy and misshapen, Nightmares had horns, Nadders their spines, and so on. Most kinds of dragon made it easy, and Valka had two decades of practice dealing with the ones that weren't easy. She might have claimed any dragon could carry her bareback with no issues on her part.
Then she had met Night Furies for the first time, her son and his family, and learned that there was one exception.
Her arms burned, and her hands were almost numb. All of her was slick with sweat, despite the fact that it was still cold and cloudy out besides. If her staff had not been secured to her back, she surely would have lost it by now.
And all of that was after less than five minutes on Beryl and now Herb. When Night Furies went all out, it was all she could do to not literally be sent flying on her own. No horns, no lumps, nothing whatsoever to hold on to, aside from the ears she was pretty sure would not make good grips, and the neck, which she was currently wrapping her arms around so tightly it was a wonder Herb was not falling from the sky from a lack of air. Night Furies were built for speed, not passengers.
But she was holding on. No matter how sore she might be tomorrow, she was holding on. That was good, because there was no way she was letting herself be left behind. There was nothing she could do for her friend, the Stormcutter, but there might be something she could do for Ember or one of the others. What, she didn't know, but something. And that Bewilderbeast had to go to free any of the people she cared about anyway.
So, while her heart ached at leaving the Stormcutter behind again, she had done it without hesitation. He would have understood, were he aware of what was going on.
Were those under control aware of their actions? Valka didn't know. Her alpha had never actually taken control of anyone; that wasn't how he ran the nest.
Right now, it didn't matter whether those controlled would remember their actions, but later, if they all survived… Ember would have issues coming to terms with what he was doing. But all of that was for later. They needed to get Ember out of the battle first, and then to somehow do the same for the other Furies, all so that they could end the Bewilderbeast themselves.
Hadn't this whole plan centered around the idea that they couldn't kill the Bewilderbeast themselves? Yes, but that was then. Everything had gone strange since they made that assumption, and it might be possible now, if the fact that the Bewilderbeast itself didn't know what was happening was any indication.
"Prepare for a fight; Ember has taken the bait," Herb called back, flying low alongside Spark, trailing the two combatants, who were now nowhere in sight.
Valka shook herself, though that was a very limited movement given she didn't dare knock her deathgrip loose, and tried to focus. She would, again, be of almost no use in this fight, but there was a chance she might be able to sneak in and whack Ember in the back of the head with her staff and knock him out, so she couldn't afford to be anything but focused.
Herb dropped into an open area Valka recognized as a training yard of some sort, landing with a light thump on the stones that made up the small plaza. There were a few unoccupied cages scattered around, and some wooden training weapons lying on the ground in various places, obviously abandoned at some point for real weapons as the invasion neared. Two narrow streets crossed the area, meaning there were four ways our from the ground.
And, of course, one other way out, the sky. Spark circled above, looking down nervously, but also checking his surroundings every few seconds. As long as Spark flew above, the Bewilderbeast could not take Ember out of the trap by air. Spark was on guard from attacks from other dragons, and hopefully there would not be time in any case.
Time. They had to do this fast. Valka slid off of Herb, pulling her staff out of her back holster and into her hands, tightening her grip on the familiar haft.
Ember stood in the middle of the training yard, staring at Beryl, who faced him, clearly ready to dodge or strike as needed.
"I need this body. It is powerful, even if it is restraining me," Ember said, though Valka knew it was really the Bewilderbeast talking. It made her stomach churn to hear those impersonal words from the dragon she had not yet really taken the effort to know, but wanted to. He was gone for the moment, never to return if this monster had its way. "My alpha needs it."
"Well, we need our friend and family members back," Beryl gritted angrily, lashing his tail. "Release them all, now."
"I can't release this one," Ember snarled, walking forward, getting closer to Beryl, clearly about to strike. "So I have to use it."
Ember pounced. Beryl leaped to meet him, jumping just slightly more forward than Ember had, ramming his wing-shoulder into Ember's midsection and knocking him to the side. Herb surged forward, leaping into action.
What followed was too fast for Valka to make out. She couldn't even track the lashing claws, snapping teeth, and whatever else the Furies were using as they fought. It was all she could do to edge closer and get an idea of how the general fight was going.
A stalemate. Ember could not, facing two opponents, get in any actually damaging strikes, but Beryl and Herb could not knock him out, and would not go for true injuries or possibly killing strikes. Valka couldn't even get close enough to Ember to strike at him herself, because the Furies did not stay still throughout their fight, tumbling and leaping, roaring powerfully.
This wasn't working. Valka quickly cast around for some other solution-
Her eyes landed on one of the cages. There were several around, one somewhat close to the fight. That could work.
Valka ran to the cage, and quickly opened the door, noting with a resigned grimace that while there was a lock, the key was nowhere to be seen. Getting all of her friends and family out of these cages might prove to be a whole other issue later, but right now Ember needed to be safely out of the way.
"Over here!" she called out, not even bothering with her staff. There was no way Herb could spare the concentration to make out her quiet, imperfect dragon speech right now. Beryl would be the one to hear her-
She barely stopped herself from yelling the plan, too, remembering at the last second that Ember could understand human speech, and that it was possible the Bewilderbeast could too. She couldn't give away the plan.
Beryl looked over at her in a free moment, and his eyes widened in understanding. He leaped over the tangled mass that was Ember and Herb to get on their other side, and rushed the two dragon, knocking both towards the cage before they broke apart and Ember returned to facing both Furies.
Then Herb got the idea, seeing Valka by the cage and clearly remembering that they had discussed caging the other enthralled Furies. He blasted in front of Ember, forcing him to jump back, though he returned fire far more accurately and almost got Herb, who dropped to let the bolt of blue fire pass over him just in time.
Ember had his back to Valka and the cage, and he was less than ten paces away. Valka hunched over behind the open door, knowing that if Ember turned and saw her the closely-spaced bars would be her only protection, however imperfect.
Beryl leaped forward, vaulting over Herb just after the blast passed by, and clawed at Ember's face, forcing him to rear back or be blinded. The black Fury was taking risks, knowing that the Bewilderbeast wouldn't want Ember badly injured, and trusting Ember's body to be able to move out of the way fast enough.
Seven paces.
Herb fired from behind Beryl, a small blast hitting Ember's chest and driving him back, though he flared his wings to stop from being flung very far.
Four paces.
Beryl and Herb charged together, clearly intending to shove Ember the remaining distance-
A deep, somewhat distant howl erupted from somewhere nearby, just before Herb and Beryl reached Ember with their charge. Ember's ears shot up, an incongruous action in the midst of this violence, and he jumped to the side, totally avoiding Beryl and Herb instead of continuing the fight.
No! Valka stepped out from behind the cage door, intent on interfering, on baiting Ember into it herself, if she had to. They were so close!
Ember's head turned, and he looked down one of the streets, in the direction of the howl. He snarled at Beryl and Herb, and sprinted away, headed towards that street. Beryl and Herb chased after-
"Stop!" a man yelled, emerging from the shadows, flanked by hunters. He had a neatly-trimmed goatee and a stern, intelligent expression only slightly marred by several small cuts across his face. "Drago's forces are that way, and my men will strike at your dragons if you chase him."
Beryl and Herb skidded to a stop, letting Ember go, but not for the reason the hunter thought. Beryl leaped back to Valka, and Herb followed, both facing the new threat. Spark circled above, lining up a shot.
"If you want to get Ember back, you need more strategy than that," the hunter continued, projecting his voice to reach them from across the yard. "And as it so happens, I want that particular Night Fury out of this fight, which I am led to believe is also your goal."
Valka nodded tersely, aware that she would be the one speaking for the four of them. "Yes, we do, but we don't want him dead, so if you-"
"Neither do I, if it can be avoided," the hunter agreed hastily, holding up his empty hands as if to reassure her. "I just want him out of the fight in any way that can be arranged." He waved to his men, and they all lowered their weapons. "I think we could both use some allies in that endeavor, if how utterly we are failing separately is any indication."
The way he spoke… Valka had a sneaking suspicion she knew who this was, though she had never met the man herself. "And who are you, to offer an alliance?"
"Who are you, to speak for three Night Furies?" he asked wryly. "I am going to guess the Collector, given your appearance and companions."
"And I'm going to guess you are Viggo Grimborne, given your… everything," Valka replied dangerously.
"Correct." Viggo shrugged his shoulders. "Again, neither of us can afford to be very picky right now."
"We almost had Ember; we don't need this guy's help," Beryl snarled.
"Tell me what you have to offer," Valka said coldly.
"Intelligence, a small force of hunters, and a plan," he replied, sounding entirely sure of himself. "Let me explain the plan, at least."
Valka looked to Beryl, who shrugged uncertainly. Herb and Spark didn't really know what was going on; they'd follow Beryl's lead.
She really hated the idea of working with Viggo Grimborne. Especially when he had to know she played a part in his brother's death. But at this point…
Viggo wasn't the only one who needed all the help he could get. If he actually had a decent plan, they'd take it, and watch their backs all the while. "Talk fast."
Author's Note: To the reviewer (you know who you are) who predicted Viggo would take Ember and company captive and use them to fight Drago's forces, you weren't quite right, but you had a lot of the big ideas. Viggo is planning to use many of our protagonists to fight Drago's forces. Those forces just so happen to also involve the rest of our protagonists, and while captives were taken, you got the villain wrong. Quite impressive nonetheless.