"So what's the plan?" Heather asked Togi. Her only idea to rescue the bound Nóttreiði was a desperate attack with fireballs blazing. There was no way they could let his captors slip away with him, so she was glad that Togi apparently had some better plan in mind.
'Simple and quick,' Togi responded sharply. 'By logic, we cannot risk him coming into contact with either Dagur or Astrid, as they have the power to order him killed. He is only alive now because those who took him have orders to the contrary.'
Heather nodded in agreement. She understood that; the same could very well be said of her as she alone was spared when her village was sacked because Dagur insisted she was his sister.
'We must save him before their ship reaches the fleet, then,' Einfari growled. 'I see that much. But what is this about Mother not approving?'
'We are invisible in the night,' Togi snapped, banking and leading them down toward the water. They were slowly circling around the lone Berserker warship, which was even now putting out to sea, unnoticed by any but themselves… and the ones who had betrayed Nóttreiði. 'But only so long as we try. They will fire at the slightest warning, so we cannot strike with fire. Not directly.'
'Tell me what to do,' Einfari begged. 'Now isn't the time for lessons, Father!'
Togi sighed, deflating a little. The blue glow had already faded from his back, which didn't exactly instill Heather with confidence. 'You are right. I am stalling. Einfari, you will fly high in the sky and draw attention to yourself and Heather will coordinate this with our efforts on the ship. Fire at nothing, shriek, make noise and light. Heather, you and I are going to approach from low above the water, land on the ship, climb down the side to stay out of sight, and burn a way down into the belly of the ship. That is where they will keep him.'
Now Heather knew why he was stalling; his plan called for her to ride him? And for him to break into a confined, dangerous place with only her for backup? He was right; if they lived through this, Skarpur would have sharp words for everyone involved.
'No arguing,' he continued. 'We need one half of your link down on the ship and the other half in the air to ensure timely distractions, and the only other Fury available is grounded. We cannot wait for the pack to arrive. Heather?'
"I'm in," she immediately agreed. He had asked what she would do to save Nóttreiði, and she wouldn't go back on her commitment now. She didn't really like him, but his family did, and she liked his family…
And if they didn't save him, she would never get through to him. That made her sadder than she would have expected; putting so much time and effort into convincing him to trust, only to have humans capture and kill him just as it seemed he was making progress? Everything else aside, she wasn't going to let that happen, and if this set him back, she would just work all the harder to make up for it.
'This is crazy,' Einfari rumbled, 'but fine. How do you want to do this?'
In response, Togi dipped and flew under her. 'Can you jump?' he called up. 'I will catch you.'
"On it." Heather felt surprisingly little fear at the idea of dropping through the sky and landing on a dragon she had been sure would never willingly carry a human anywhere. She trusted Togi to not just flinch and drop her.
As soon as Einfari had slowed enough, Heather stood, slipped her leg across the saddle to sit sideways and hopped forward, dropping just in front of Einfari's wing. Her boots struck squarely in the middle of Togi's back, but she slipped to the side-
Togi threw his wings up, lightly knocking her back to the middle, and she took the opportunity to throw her arms down around his neck.
'Good,' he hissed, clamping down on a growl so quickly she barely noticed it. 'You're secure?'
"Yes." She wished they had time to go back to the island and try to swap Einfari's saddle around, but Togi might not have been able to stand that anyway. "Just don't do any fancy flips."
'I will try not to,' he rumbled. They turned in the air, facing the ship. In a matter of moments they would be there, and this crazy plan would begin in earnest.
Togi felt like he was drowning. Worse, it wasn't water choking him and inciting panic. Water could be fled, spit out, or at the very least seen and avoided.
However, Nóttreiði's captivity left him drowning in guilt and fear with no way out. If he fled, if he turned around and shook the weight of the human off his back, the guilt would consume him. If he kept going, the fear would. He was damned either way.
He internally scolded himself for insisting that Nóttreiði go with the treacherous human alpha that had betrayed them. If only he hadn't brought Nóttreiði along at all. Reaching further back, he could have not told his son the story meant to drive home a fear and hatred of humans. From the very beginning, everything that led to this moment originated with Nóttreiði's flawed, failing father.
Right now, it didn't feel like years of working with Maour had accomplished anything. He felt weaker than ever when it came to facing humans and the torments of the past, and he feared that flying into a fight with angry humans in his current state might be a disaster. He didn't feel strong enough.
The counter to that feeling was lying on his back with her arms around his neck, tight but not choking, her relatively cold body a hard, firm weight between his wings, one he carried voluntarily.
This was not something he could have done years ago, and if he could do it now, that meant he had improved. So, he did his best to ignore the lingering doubts about what would happen once the plan began. He would do what needed to be done because failure was not an option, and he was strong enough to endure and succeed.
"You said you're going to burn a way into the ship from the side," Heather murmured in his ear as they flew. "How?" He could hear it in her voice and feel her body tense every time he shivered at the thought of a human on his back, armed with an ax–
He huffed and focused on relaxing. She was trusting him even more than he was trusting her, the frail little thing.
'I feel like I have enough fire for that,' he explained. He really did; only four shots had been used since they arrived, and wood burned to crumbling char quite quickly under a steady flame. He only needed a hole large enough for Heather to slip through; she could go in and free his son while he widened the hole. Then they could quietly slip away in the night, unnoticed and thus not fired upon.
It was a plan relying far too much on luck, but at the same time it could work. It would work. He would make it work.
"Can you feel it?" Heather asked. "Do you know?"
"Know what?" He considered it another sign of his progress that cryptic, quiet questions in a position like this didn't fill him with paranoia and dread. There was a small, almost miniscule possibility that she was about to betray him, but he paid it no heed. She had earned his trust, not his continued fear.
"The story you told me about the nameless female who glowed blue and melted the bars with seemingly endless fire," Heather explained. "You were glowing blue for a moment back there. Is that why we're doing it this way?"
He was? He almost didn't believe her, but she sounded as if she thought he had already known. All he knew was that he felt like his fire would be enough, though now that he thought about it, that was illogical, and not something he should be feeling…
He thought of his son, trapped, injured, tortured and broken as he had been. He felt his internal fire rage, and knew it would be enough.
"Yeah, like that, but stop doing it now," Heather hissed. "It's not subtle!"
He looked down and saw a blue glow reflecting off the water below, and consciously stopped feeling his fire and need. The glow faded. It had only been a tiny fraction of the intensity he remembered, but he hadn't even been trying. It had just happened.
"I do not believe in luck that strong," he murmured. "To discover this now, and to never feel it before?" It felt too good to be true.
"You've glowed before," Heather countered quietly. "Back when you were confronting him about going on the trip, and about humans. I barely saw it, but it was there."
He didn't question why she had never told him; she thought he had known, that it was a conscious choice. His own story made it seem like a conscious choice for the old, nameless female.
"Einfari says they didn't notice," Heather reported a moment later, sounding relieved. Togi made a mental note to teach her some tricks he knew for hiding worry in times of stress; if he noticed, then any human probably would.
Later. Right now, he had far more important things to think about. 'Now would be a good time to start the distraction,' he rumbled. They were getting close; he wanted to have just enough time for the humans to begin to react before he reached the ship. There were plenty of good places to latch onto around the edge of the wooden construct, but all required there be nobody looking when he landed, because he would have to land atop the structure and then slide down unless he wanted to rock the entire craft.
Einfari's shriek broke the quiet monotony of the rolling waves, and the figures on deck began moving. Togi could see projectiles flying into the sky, a hail of small, slender objects arcing up from the ship and disappearing amidst the stars, followed a few heartbeats later by many small disturbances in the water around the ship.
He could see how that might be effective; it was an absolute waste of effort when there was no dive bombing dragon, but they couldn't see his daughter and thus wouldn't be able to tell whether she was diving or not until too late. Firing at any hint of imminent attack was a way to work with that limitation.
But it introduced its own limitation, one he had grasped the moment his daughter had first told him of the tactic. They had limited ammo, and even more limited effect against someone anticipating their actions.
He glided in under their noses, so to speak, flying to the most unoccupied part of the deck, just behind the small wooden lump that likely led down below. One heavy flap was enough to counter his forward momentum with almost no sound, and a soft murmur from Heather had Einfari firing randomly in the sky, attracting the attention of all the men on board.
This sort of thing would only work so well the first time; he suspected that these men would never fall for such a trick once they understood they had been fooled. But it only needed to work once; the human traitor would be rooted out, and if he had his way, torn limb from limb in front of everyone else as a deterrent.
That also was for later. He felt Heather's weight slide from his back and backed over the low railing even as she drew her thin weapon and pulled back the flexible part, ready to strike at any who noticed them.
None did, at least for the moment. His daughter had flown lower and was cavorting in the sky directly in front of the ship, still out of striking range but much closer, and visible as a silhouette against the sky.
At another time, he might have had a panic attack at what his daughter was doing, but he knew it was carefully preplanned, and more importantly, he knew that it would last only as long as he needed. The faster he was in and out, the faster they would all be safe.
Togi slid down the side of the ship tail-first, his claws gouging the wood of the deck and sides. He dug in further and stopped the moment his head was a pawlength below the height of the deck, and pushed out just enough to look down, craning his neck to face the wood directly.
"All clear," Heather called down softly. A loud boom in the distance signalled his daughter's continued efforts of distraction.
He wished there were more explosions; he wasn't impressed by how far behind the pack was. While it was true that he and Nóttreiði had left the moment they got wind of the impending fight, and had spent possibly more effort in the trip than they should have, the pack should not have been that far behind. He suspected they had spent precious moments deciding who would go and who would stay, and had not left until all were ready. That would explain the continued delay; he didn't expect them to arrive for a short while longer if that were the case.
They were not needed, though. All that was needed was his fire. His son needed him. There would be no torture, no pain, no captivity. Not for Nóttreiði. Not for the son he had failed in every other way in an attempt to prevent exactly this.
He noticed the blue light rippling down through his chest this time, looking down as he was, and even noticed that his many, many scars glowed brighter, lacking scales to cover them up. It was a strange thing to see his body reacting to something he could barely feel, but he didn't have time to stare and wonder.
He began to breathe fire onto the wood, keeping his flame steady and hot like he was trying to warm a rock for himself to sleep on. It came out far stronger and hotter than normal, and he had to close his eyes lest the light blind him. He couldn't see what progress he was making, which would be a problem.
"Keep going," Heather whispered. "I'm holding a tarp over you to block the sparks. They're all on the far side of the ship shooting in Einfari's direction."
Good. That meant they weren't over here. He stopped for a moment and opened his eyes to examine his progress.
Strangely, the wood around where he was burning hadn't caught yet, though it was scorched and the place he had flamed directly was nothing but glowing ash, bits flaring up and flying all directions with every breeze. There was a small puddle of molten metal to one side of the paw-sized hole, and as he watched it slowly drained off into the bowels of the ship.
He shoved his face forward, heedless of the scorching heat, and jammed his eye up to the hole, looking inside. Flickering torchlight met his vision, and metal bars all around. Nothing was moving inside; he couldn't see his son, and there didn't seem to be any guards, which made sense given the commotion up on deck.
"How long?"
'Some time yet,' he grunted, resuming his flaming, this time aiming down at the bottom edge of the hole he had created. Making a hole large enough for his son to slip through would take quite a while.
"Try to hurry; they're not going to be distracted forever," Heather whispered.
Every heartbeat was a victory to Heather, one more moment where everything was going right. She just wished she could stop shaking. Her arms were quivering as she held out the tarp over Togi's paws and head, and she felt like she'd collapse if anything actually happened.
She wasn't standing out in plain sight; the small cabin blocked her view of most of the deck. What she could see was around a corner, and only visible by leaning. Einfari's view was more helpful, and from there she could see that nobody was paying any attention to the back of the ship.
She could also hear the Berserkers over the noise of Togi's overpowered flames reducing the side of the ship to ash from where she stood. She was grateful it hadn't gone up in a roaring inferno yet; the heat she could feel made her think that was bound to happen at some point.
The Berserkers were still firing at Einfari, but unlike the initial barrage, now they were bantering. Some were speculating as to what had gotten Einfari so riled up, while others were trying to eke out a little more range by aiming at angles, and were betting among themselves who would hit first. There was an undercurrent of fear because they were clearly facing a Night Fury who for some reason had singled them out, but it was slowly being eroded away by nothing actually happening.
Once they grew relaxed enough to look away, Heather was in trouble. She didn't think they'd kill her, because no Berserker ever tried to do that, but they would capture her and bring her to Dagur, and that was almost as bad.
'Heather,' Togi said, poking his head up above the edge of the ship. 'Can you fit through here?'
"Through the hole?" She leaned over the rail and eyed the glowing embers and ash coating the inside of a jagged opening. "I'm not fireproof…"
But it looked doable if she went fast enough, and there was no time to spare. It was either risk the heat or risk sneaking around getting caught. "Hold still," she concluded, swinging a leg over the rail. "I need to sit on your head and slide in."
'Be quick,' he requested, obligingly angling his face and closing his eyes to avoid them being poked by an errant limb.
Heather slipped over the side and slid down, hitting Togi's face and almost perfectly sliding down into the depths of the ship.
Almost, because the jagged, searing pain in her back wasn't supposed to be there. She hit the ground with a thud and immediately rolled, scattering the searing wood ash that she had scraped off. The problem was that the hole hadn't been entirely blunt; there were thick splinters stuck through her tunic.
She muffled a scream of agony by biting down on her own hand, rolled onto her stomach, and scrambled to her feet, struggling with her tunic. She tore it off with a strength born of desperation, and heaved a sigh of relief at the bare air on her burns. The splinters had come with her tunic, thankfully.
'Are you okay?' Togi was already back to flaming the sides of the hole, pausing every few moments to look up at the ship above them. 'Hurry. I will only be a few moments.'
Heather nodded, retrieved her bow, quiver, and ax from where they had fallen, slung the bow and quiver across her bare shoulder with a wince, and turned to face the hold. She was standing at the end of a long row of doors, many with bars in front of them, oddly enough. They seemed, at first glance, intended to serve as either cabins or cells, depending on whether the key was with the person residing within or not. She certainly couldn't think of any other explanation for prison doors with locks on both sides.
Luckily, both for her safety and her modesty given she was bare from the waist up, she was alone. Only one of the cells was actually closed and locked, giving her a good idea of where Nóttreiði had to be.
She didn't go to him immediately; it would be impossible to open the cell without a key. Maour had spoken of picking locks, a skill he had apparently learned from Camicazi of all people, but she didn't know how to do that, so she needed a key.
A key like the ones lying on a hook jutting out from the wall to the far side of the corridor. She jogged over to it, feeling very much in danger with every moment spent in the hold, and grabbed the ring, clenching her fist around the half-dozen keys to keep them from clanking together.
'They're still distracted,' Einfari reported. 'But I don't know how long it'll last.'
"Thanks," Heather murmured. "Keep me up to date." She couldn't spare the concentration to check for herself right now. She tucked her ax under her arm and faced the locked cell door, fumbling with the key ring. Of course, none of the keys were labeled in any way; that would be too smart for the Berserker tribe to think of. She slotted one into the lock at random.
Then, embarrassingly enough, she encountered a problem. She knew how keys worked; everyone did. They were to be put in locks and turned. But where she had grown up there were no locks, and she had never been on the 'captor' end of imprisonment. She didn't actually know how to tell if she was doing it right. Was this the wrong key, or did she need to turn it harder?
She hedged her bets by deciding to try all of them before resorting to using more force, though she suspected more force would be the answer given the people who had made the lock.
A steady stream of hot ash was falling to the deck over where she had entered, reminding her that Togi was still working at widening the gap. Flames were finally beginning to lick at the wood all around the hole, too. Time was running out.
The third key slid all the way in and turned, relieving her anxiety with a rusty creak. She pulled the bar aside and shoved the interior wooden door open, stepping back the moment she did so. Common sense said Nóttreiði would be restrained in some way, but common sense also said not to trust Berserkers with her life, even by extension.
It turned out she didn't need to worry; Nóttreiði was in no position to strike at anyone. She stepped into the small room, momentarily at a loss as to how to free him.
The Berserkers had taken no chances with him escaping. He was hanging from a series of ropes embedded in the ceiling, his tail drifting across the floor as his body swayed, supported at the hips by more ropes. Every limb but the tail was tied tightly to his body, and a metal muzzle was strapped securely across his face.
His eyes were closed, and for a moment she thought he was dead. Then his chest heaved, and she knew he was just asleep, or more likely unconscious.
"Found him," she called out, leaning back into the corridor. "He's alive, and he looks okay. Just tied up." From the brief look she had gotten, his tail and wings were fine. He wasn't bleeding anywhere. Not like last time.
No, that was probably supposed to come later, when Dagur or Astrid were able to enjoy it. She shuddered and hefted her ax, stepping back into the room to free him. They weren't going to let that happen.
Her first action was to cut him down from the ceiling, both to give herself more leeway with his bonds and to wake him before he could strike at her from panic at seeing her with an ax. Nóttreiði's eyes flashed open the moment his body hit the ground, and he writhed angrily, growling through the muzzle. His struggling didn't stop when he laid eyes on her; he acted as if her presence both wasn't a surprise and wasn't important.
"Stop it!" she ordered tensely, worrying that he would somehow be heard above deck. "I'm here to get you out!"
'Die,' he snarled back at her.
"Oh- Togi!" she called out, realizing that her presence wasn't going to help anything. She couldn't even free him like this; he'd kill her. "How long? I can't set him loose yet."
'Soon,' Togi's reply began, 'but why not?'
Nóttreiði fell still, his eyes wide and disbelieving, and Heather wondered why they hadn't tried talking to him before any of this. Surely Togi could have contacted him from outside the ship? Though Nóttreiði had been out of it before now, so he might not have heard…
She shook her head, dismissing thoughts of the Night Fury mental communication. "Can you tell him to not hurt me when I cut him loose?" she asked.
'Son, do as I say and let her free you,' Togi ordered, somehow managing to sound exasperated even in the middle of a tense infiltration and breakout attempt. 'She is with me. With us. As you know.'
"I'm not doing anything until you agree," Heather said, crouching by him.
'Do it,' Nóttreiði rumbled uncertainly. His eyes never left her face, not even when she began to take her ax to the many ropes and tarps constricting him. Each one fell with a quiet twang, and his body spilled outward, slowly freed by her ax… And still, he never looked away.
For her part, she kept eye contact as well as she could while working around him. Anything that seemed non hostile was a good sign, and while she couldn't fathom what was running through his mind, it seemed to be in that category.
A clang of metal on metal resounded from behind her just as she was taking her ax to some of the ropes around his front paws; his eyes shifted off of her and widened further, something she would have claimed impossible up until that very moment.
"Wha' 'ave we got 'ere?" a gravelly voice drawled disbelievingly. Heather spun to face a fat, heavyset Berserker who looked as if he had just woken up.
She hadn't checked the unlocked cells. The ones she had noticed seemed equally suited to being cabins.
"Yer the girl tha Chief wants," he said slowly, his eyes drifting down to her chest. She held her ax up and pointed it at his throat, trying to draw his attention back to where it should be. Her, but her in control of the situation… And certainly not the dragon breaking into the hold.
"I want to see Dagur," she bluffed, buying time. "You can't hurt me. He'll throttle you for fun if you do."
"Aye," the man agreed, raising his hands in mock defeat. "I'll jus' shut ya in here and let 'im work it out. No skin off my back tha' way. The reward for bringin' ye and a Fury in is more than enough for me."
'No,' Nóttreiði groaned as the Berserker backed away. 'Don't give up…Father, come quickly, there's a human here…'
Heather and the Berserker both heard an angry snarl, a muffled explosion, and then a shower of splinters embedding themselves into the walls. Heather lunged forward, swinging her ax wildly, forcing the Berserker to back up into the corridor-
Where a blur of black and glowing blue plowed into him, striking so hard and rapidly that blood splattered onto the bars to either side even as Togi drove the man to the ground. Heather didn't even watch the end of the brief dismemberment since she knew their time had just been cut even shorter. Nóttreiði actively strained to place every remaining bond within her reach, snarling continuously.
'Move aside,' Togi commanded, and Heather hopped out of the way. He leaned over his son and set to work with far more efficiency, clawing at two different bonds at once while flaming a third. Nóttreiði rolled to his paws only a few heartbeats later, only his metal muzzle remaining, and that was quickly removed by a careful jet of near-white flame to the leather components.
'Heather, they heard something,' Einfari hissed. 'Get out!'
"On it already," Heather agreed, swinging herself onto Togi's back with practiced ease, though the lack of a saddle to grab had her using his frills as handholds. He and Nóttreiði ran out of the cell and back to the hole.
'Leap out, onto, and then up!' Togi barked, proceeding to do just that with the newly enlarged opening. Heather flattened herself to his back, her chest pressing hot scales, in an attempt to avoid another sharp burn on the sides of the hole, and missed most of their leap out into the open. She heard voices sounding the alarm, and the hissing of arrows in the air, and pained grunts from both Togi and Nóttreiði.
But nothing more. The sounds of conflict faded, replaced only by grunts of exertion as the dragon under her and the one off to the side powered away from danger. Her back burned in the salty sea air, but that was all. They had done it.
Heather didn't open her eyes until she heard Togi rumbling worriedly. 'Nóttreiði, tell me if there is an arrow in her back,' he growled. 'She is not moving.'
"I'm fine," she whispered weakly in his ear. Her heart was only just beginning to slow to something approaching normal, and she felt as if she could sleep for a week.
'And so are we,' Togi grumbled in relief. 'I have an arrow in my side, but it is not deep.'
'I am… Not fine…' Nóttreiði panted. 'I need to set down.'
'Not the field, there could be stragglers,' Togi growled, turning to one side. Heather still wasn't looking where they were going, her eyes focused only on the scales of Togi's back. 'Here, where we were earlier.'
'That's in the middle of them all,' Nóttreiði complained faintly.
'Why are we landing?' Einfari asked, alerting Heather to her presence. She must have just arrived. 'And why is Heather like that?'
'Injury answers both, I think,' Togi replied. Heather was jolted by a sudden stop, and she almost tumbled off his back. 'Also probably shock.'
"Relief," Heather corrected, raising her head and voluntarily dropping off of Togi before she could fall by accident. Her legs gave out when she hit the ground, but she managed to turn it into a controlled collapse, ending up on her knees.
'Heather!' Einfari barked, rushing to her. 'Your back!' A wet tongue began to run over her burns and puncture wounds.
Heather let out a sigh of relief and leaned forward. She hadn't realized how much her back hurt until it didn't anymore; now it was pleasantly cool and slowly becoming numb, though she doubted that would last long.
'Where are you hurt, son?' Heather heard Togi ask.
'My chest, and my shoulders,' Nóttreiði admitted.
'I see no cuts or gashes… Bruises?' Togi clarified.
'Yes.'
A deep snarl echoed through the empty clearing. 'I should have just landed and killed them all.'
'But this worked,' Einfari countered. 'And it was safer. Heather, how bad is it? I don't know anything about burns.'
"I'm surprised you can tell this is a burn, then," she managed, standing and turning to look at her friend. It was bearable, and she was beginning to feel bad for letting Einfari worry. "It's not too terrible. I'll be fine."
'Red hot skin with ash on it is obviously a burn,' Einfari huffed, nuzzling her face. 'You look different without your false skin on. Is this normal?'
Heather shrugged. She didn't feel all that self-conscious around dragons; what would they care if she was topless? "Yes, but I prefer to be covered."
'Nóttreiði,' Togi growled. 'Don't lie to me. I asked where you were hurt, and you did not mention the piece of wood sticking out of your back.'
'I didn't feel it,' Nóttreiði objected.
'I call dragon dung on that,' Einfari interjected, leaning away from Heather to glare at her brother. 'I took one to the paw and it hurt like crazy.'
'And you didn't tell Father about that either,' Nóttreiði shot back. 'Did you?'
'Well, no… But this isn't about me.' Einfari rumbled with restrained laughter. 'Wow, moments after saving you and I'm already wondering why we bothered.' Her voice held no scorn of seriousness; it was clear to all that she was joking.
Nóttreiði didn't seem to hear her, looking over at Heather instead. He said nothing.
'Einfari,' Togi rumbled, 'go fly out in the direction of home and find the pack. Let them know what has happened, and what to avoid if they decide to engage the enemy's retreat. And tell them we were betrayed. They need to know not to trust those humans.'
'Heather?' Einfari warbled.
'Leave her,' Togi replied. 'I want a link to you with me.'
'I'll be back soon,' Einfari promised, jumping up into the sky. 'They can't be far.'
'Heather,' Togi continued the moment Einfari was up in the air, walking over to her. 'How is your back?'
"I'll manage, but it hurts." So long as she moved her arms slowly and didn't twist her torso, it was just a dull ache, the pleasant numbness Einfari's saliva having already begun to wear off.
'Can you remove the arrow from my side?' he continued, turning and presenting the shaft sticking out of his scales. 'I cannot, and I trust you.' This was said with a significant glance in Nóttreiði's direction.
Heather knew very well where this was going to lead if she agreed to taking Togi's arrow out; he would insist she do Nóttreiði next. He knew that she knew it as well and was offering her the chance to avoid that specific encounter if she wasn't up to it.
But she had just decided she wasn't going to stop trying to earn Nóttreiði's trust, and backing down now wouldn't help with that. "Sure, I can do it." She examined the arrow and thought of something somewhat important. "Can one of you flame the ground? I think I'm supposed to cauterize the wound once I take the arrow out." Direct dragonfire to the ax would only melt it, but it should get hot enough if pressed against the hot stone.
Togi nodded and scrunched his face up, inhaling deeply. Then he coughed. 'I'm out,' he admitted. 'Nóttreiði?'
Nóttreiði padded over, moving stiffly, and leaned forward to flame the ground. He only did so for a brief time, and visibly spasmed at the end of it. 'My chest hurts,' he moaned.
"No more fire," Heather declared. She suspected he had a bruised or broken rib, or something along those lines. Someone who actually knew anything about dragon anatomy would know more; she was just guessing.
But the ground was hot, and time was wasting. She gripped the arrow shaft, pulled it out, and pressed the flat of her hot ax to the small puncture wound. Togi grunted, but otherwise didn't object, and the blood stopped before it could really begin to flow at all.
'That works,' Togi said approvingly, looking at his wound once she was done. 'Now Nóttreiði.'
To Heather's surprise, Nóttreiði didn't object, meekly turning to let her access his back. Either seeing his father go through the same procedure had reassured him, or he was cooperating for some other reason.
Whatever the case, Heather wasted no time in removing the arrow, which wasn't barbed, fortunately. Neither of the arrows had been. One quick cauterization later, followed by a pained roar, and she was done.
'Good…' Togi looked them both over consideringly. 'Heather, do you want something to cover yourself with?'
"That would be great," she admitted, "but there's nothing like that around."
'I'll find something. Nóttreiði, let her look over the rest of your injuries.' He bounded off into a dark alleyway without waiting for an answer.
Heather slowly walked around to face Nóttreiði. She could hardly believe Togi had done that; it wasn't like him at all to leave them injured and alone, even in a place that should be relatively safe, and the thought of him scouring a human village for a tunic or just a big piece of cloth was even more ludicrous.
'Did my father take a heavy blow to the head?' Nóttreiði mumbled, sounding as bemused as she felt.
"I'm honestly not sure," Heather said. "But he wanted me to check you out, so…" She pointed at his chest. "Let me see."
Nóttreiði growled but complied, not moving as she put a hand to the front of his broad chest and pushed.
"I'd have thought you would be even more scared of me now," she murmured, pushing different places. It stood to reason that if something was broken, he wouldn't like the feeling of her pushing on it, and would let her know.
'They kicked there, but it's just a bruise,' Nóttreiði said quietly, shifting himself so that her hands were not on the spot he was speaking of. 'I'm fine. I just want to go home.'
"Can you fly for a whole night straight?" she asked loudly, taking full advantage of his abnormally calm attitude to press her point without fear of reprisal. "That's how long you'd have to fly to get home, and you needed to set down right after we left their ship." She didn't think he would make it if that was any indication.
He narrowed his eyes. 'I do understand you, you know. You're doing what Maour does, talking in both languages at once.'
"Am I?" She hadn't known that, but she had assumed he understood anyway, even though he wouldn't have. She waved the new information away, not bothered by it. "Whatever. My point stands."
'After all this time, I understand now,' Nóttreiði rumbled, looking her in the eye. 'I've seen treachery. You are not false.'
"It was the human you went with to check the shoreline, right?" Heather asked, masking her immense surprise with a practical question. She had expected regression, not genuine progress. "He betrayed you and us?"
'Yes, the same ones.' Nóttreiði looked around. 'A part of me wants to fly away howling. But… that was what Father did. And now he is back, facing this anyway.'
"And currently scrounging through the streets for a tunic," Heather quipped. She still didn't get that. Togi was not suddenly cured and able to do something so paranoia-inducing; earlier that very night he had been cautious of approaching the Chieftains, let alone the general populace of a neutral island right after a bloody battle. She could blame the giddiness of a tense conflict survived, but that still didn't feel right.
'I will still be wary of humans,' Nóttreiði growled at her. 'But I won't fear them. I shouldn't.'
"Right." She was beginning to suspect a lot of this was overpowering relief at being saved speaking for him; she knew that heady optimism well enough, though she had only rarely experienced it herself. Tomorrow, once he had slept on this, she expected prickly, suspicious Nóttreiði back with only a little improvement. One rescue couldn't cure someone with deep-rooted problems. Though he had been changing slowly over the course of months, and she hadn't seen him in the last two, which was plenty of time for genuine progress to be made.
If he was more open to change right now than he would be later, she was going to try for as much as possible. She held out her hand, inviting him to meet her halfway.
Nóttreiði hopped back, disgruntled-
And a spinning blade sliced the air between them, where his head had been just a heartbeat ago, embedding itself in the ground on the far side of the clearing.
Togi hoped Heather didn't really need a covering; she wasn't going to get one anytime soon. That had been a convenient, if implausible, excuse to leave them supposedly alone. He was lurking in the next alley over, watching closely and ignoring the weakness he felt throughout his body as a result of all he had done recently.
He liked what he saw. Heather's persistence and lack of fear around Nóttreiði was good, of course, but the real improvement was with his son. Somehow, being betrayed and held captive for a short time had helped.
Togi suspected Nóttreiði was aware that he had finally experienced actual betrayal and captivity, and was now thinking that he knew how it felt. Obviously, Heather's actions felt nothing like that.
Maybe it was his cynicism, but he couldn't find it in himself to be too happy about that possible line of reasoning; it was good where it applied to Heather, but it would come with its own set of problems later if he took to his new approach as thoroughly as he did everything else.
Yes, Togi decided even as he watched Heather and Nóttreiði interact in a fashion that was stilted and awkward even for them, he was going to have to keep an eye on his son's mindset. That wasn't new. A few long talks with Nóttreiði on the subject of captivity and Heather once his son had rested and recovered enough to think clearly… That would be good. His job as a parent was never going to be truly over, but he felt he was finally returning to familiar ground, nudging his son in just the right direction instead of ramming into him and forcing him to change drastically. He could do that.
Heather, clearly at least a little unguarded thanks to the crazy night she had just lived through, stuck her hand out in a clumsy offer of friendship Nóttreiði wasn't ready to accept, even in his equally addled state of mind. He clumsily hopped back, offended-
And a blade spun between them, followed by an angry human scream that Togi thought might be feminine in nature. He sprang from his hiding place, discarding secrecy in favor of protecting the ones he had been watching, and bounded right over them even as they sluggishly reacted to the opening strike.
Togi knew he wasn't in top form at the moment either; he was out of fire and minorly injured, and had flown all day with no rest between then and now. Heather and Nóttreiði were worse, but he was by no means fresh and ready for a fight.
Judging by the bloody stain darkening her padded shoulder, the female with a distinctive wooden stake and ax wasn't fresh either, but that didn't stop her from charging and raising both weapons, one in either hand.
Togi wasn't sure whether this lunatic human was Astrid, though the stake seemed pretty distinctive, but he didn't care. She was going to die for what she had just tried to do; past actions would not change that verdict, and he was ready to carry it out.
She swung her weapon; he stepped to the side and hopped back as she jabbed forward with the stake. She was quick, quicker than he had expected, and he tried to fire at her-
Only to cough and almost take a sharp stick to the eye. He leaped back again, hacking to clear his dry throat. His fire wasn't going to come easily, if at all, for a little while. Maybe not even if he found it in himself to glow again; he didn't know how that worked or whether it could give him fire when he had already used all of his up.
"No fire, no energy, no life soon," Astrid, for that was who this must be, crowed mockingly, swiping at him again.
"Not you again," Heather exclaimed from behind him. Nóttreiði bounded up to crouch at his side, momentarily warding Astrid off with his presence.
"Again, and again, until you're all dead," Astrid hissed, striding forward again. Togi bounded forward to meet her, snagging a claw on her wooden stake and pulling it toward him, his teeth out to snap off whatever he could grab-
But then she was out, twisting the stake and his claws free, rolling under him. He almost succumbed to instinct and dropped to crush her before realizing she had a stake and could easily kill him with that. Instead he leaped upward and flapped once, throwing himself out of striking range.
By necessity, getting out of range also meant leaving her a clear path to the others. Togi dropped as soon as he could, but she was already striking at his son by the time he touched down, smacking sluggish paw blows aside with relative ease, laughing wildly, taking pleasure in how close each strike came to harming the tired dragon she was trying to kill.
Heather was there too, swinging her ax at Astrid's unprotected back. She was redirected by an unexpected pivot on Astrid's part, almost digging her ax into Nóttreiði's face before she could pull back. Astrid elbowed her side in the confusion, striking her bare skin, and slipped away yet again.
'Heather, get clear!' Togi ordered, bounding back into the fray to throw himself over Heather before Astrid could strike again. He took a glancing blade to the chest to do so, but a swift headbutt knocked Astrid safely away from both his son and Heather, which was more than worth the pain. Heather was ridiculously vulnerable at the moment, devoid of even the soft cured hides humans usually used to cover themselves in lieu of scales.
Thankfully, Heather scrambled away with no argument, clearly seeing the wisdom in retreating when she would be struck down by the first real hit Astrid landed.
"Night Furies, weak and vulnerable," Astrid taunted, flipping her stake to hold it as if ready to pin something to the ground. She stepped to the side, obviously gauging their reaction.
'She is fast and experienced,' Togi said, mostly for Nóttreiði's benefit. His son didn't have enough combat experience to read an opponent of any kind, let alone a human, but was more than capable of using the results of such an assessment. "Both sides are deadly, but the wooden one less so. She will strike at Heather to distract us.' He would have added something about how tired they both were if he thought his son needed the reminder, but the drooping tail and heavy breathing proved that Nóttreiði was already well aware of his own situation.
'Which is why she should run,' Nóttreiði growled, his eyes on Astrid. 'Go get other humans to mob this one and pull her down if we're still fighting by the time they arrive.'
'This won't last long enough for that,' Togi countered. 'But she should go anyway. Nóttreiði, focus on this human's head and frailty. One good stomp or bite will kill her if we can get her in the right spot.'
"So will an arrow to the face," Heather murmured, stepping back. "Keep her off me and give me an opening, and I'll put her down. Like a mad dog."
True to comparison, Astrid strode forward in spite of all common sense, attacking again. She moved with practiced ease, directing the stabbing points and cutting blades of her weaponry at any weak point that availed itself, getting right in their faces and forcing them to concede ground.
Togi snarled as he tried to bite down on the stake only to have it jabbed at his face; he knew all too well that this fight would be over if he had his fire, but she seemed to be taking advantage of the lack far too effectively. She wasn't even guarding against the possibility of a blast to the face. He could attribute that to insanity… Or to knowledge.
She knew they were out, and she knew they were exhausted. He changed tactics, stepping back and glaring at her.
She knocked a sluggish paw away and jabbed at Nóttreiði, only to find him following his father's lead and stepping back again. Her eyes narrowed.
'Father, we can take her,' Nóttreiði panted. 'It's just one human!' He seemed bewildered at their lack of progress. He wouldn't be if he understood their many disadvantages, this particular human's apparent skill, and the cautious style of combat Togi was holding to, unwilling to overextend himself. If he gave in and attacked like a Night Fury would, he would kill her, but he would not walk away, not with that dratted stake always by her side. The only way pouncing and rending would work was if she was declawed first, either literally or by swatting her held tools away.
Or Heather could get a clear shot. Astrid dodged to the side, crouching just out of pawing range of Nóttreiði, and surged forward yet again.
Nóttreiði, frustrated and fed up, leaped to meet her. They clashed, and Togi darted in to bite at the ax before it could cleave his son's throat in two, finally getting a solid grip on something. He yanked, trying to pull it out of her hands-
The human came with the ax, using his pull to drag herself away. She tried to take his eye with her stake again, forcing him to let go, rolled on the stone ground-
Togi let out a bark of surprise as he realized she had gotten past them. Heather turned and ran, seeing nothing between herself and the crazy human. Togi coughed even as he ran, trying to catch up with the two of them, and unable to summon the fire to end it.
Heather still didn't think a human could face a Night Fury in fair combat, let alone two. This just wasn't a fair fight. Her arms trembled as she held an arrow at the ready. She wasn't drawing yet; in the state she was in, she'd accidentally loose and kill Togi or Nóttreiði.
All she could do was watch as Astrid had the time of her life parrying slow strikes and half-hearted bites. Nóttreiði and Togi were exhausted from the all-day flight and then fight at the end of it, and it was showing, their every movement stilted and slow. Astrid would have been dead in seconds otherwise.
Then Astrid was past them, and her eyes locked on Heather. Heather bolted. She knew better than to stand and trust a single shot to put down the woman who had apparently shrugged off an arrow to the arm earlier.
Instead, she ran into the alley. If she could bait Astrid into the open, out into the occupied part of the village, it would be over. Nobody was around at the moment, but only because everyone was tending the wounded or tearing down inconvenient choke point barricades all across the town.
Heather ran past another, even narrower alleyway, hesitated, and then ducked in. It was nothing more than a space between huts, too narrow for her to even spread her arms to either side, the far end blocked by a chest-high pile of old refuse, and it was perfect. She drew an arrow and sighted along the opening; if Astrid wasn't looking she would run right by, and if she was, she'd stop and offer the perfect target at close range. A clean kill was even better than luring her into the village proper.
Sure enough, Astrid darted past, not looking to either side. To all appearances, she hadn't even noticed the smaller alleyway-
But Heather wasn't going to be outsmarted that easily. She remained still, her gaze locked on the opening, ready to fire. The smart move for Astrid would be to act like she hadn't noticed, and then to wait just to one side, ready to cut Heather down when she emerged.
A moment later, the obvious problem with that plan ran by, Togi looking more frantic than she had seen him in… Well, not very long, they had just rescued Nóttreiði. Then Nóttreiði-
And then there was a roar of anger and surprise, and Heather bolted out of the smaller alley.
All Heather could see was Nóttreiði's back; he was blocking the way. Togi was roaring louder now, and Nóttreiði was trying to push past his father, to no avail. He was too big to do anything-
"Stay still!" Heather commanded, before clambering up onto Nóttreiði and redrawing her bow. Her footing was unsteady, but she managed.
The world seemed to recede as she sighted down the shaft of her arrow. One narrow alleyway, a blond-haired lunatic swinging an ax, and Togi, fighting despite a small fountain of thick, dark blood gushing out from somewhere and painting Astrid a red far too deep to be her own. Her heart hammered out a fast tempo in her chest. Nóttreiði was still trying to move forward, but failing; his father's wings were blocking him, and to climb past them would be to distract Togi from a fight that was undoubtedly a single instant away from being his last.
Astrid's arm raised. Heather fired. A thin shaft with feathers on the end blossomed in Astrid's arm, just below the wrist.
But the ax still fell, chopping deep into Togi's shoulder. Astrid screamed out in pain, stumbling backward while still brandishing her ax with her now twice-pierced arm, and with a hateful glare, turned and ran. The stake she still dragged along with her, even now, rattled against ground until she disappeared from sight around a tight corner.
'Father!' Nóttreiði screeched, still unable to get around to the front.
'I let her… Get in close…' Togi panted, lowering his wings and crouching. 'Help.'
That single, desperate plea scared Heather more than anything else that night. She dropped her weapons and vaulted forward despite her aching back, sliding in the pool of blood rapidly spreading in front of Togi.
He had a deep ax wound in his shoulder, and another across the underside of his chest. Both looked serious. Both looked potentially fatal, with the amount of blood they were letting out.
Author's Note: Fun fact: I write some stories with very appropriate background noise (When Nothing Remains being written solely to the sounds of a howling blizzard is the best example of this), but some… Well, let's just say my music choice for this chapter isn't exactly the sort one would expect. Rush, by The Score, on repeat for hours on end. After about 20 minutes, it ceases to register in my mind as anything but setting a 'frantic pace' sort of mood.
Oh, was that not what you wanted to talk about? Something about Togi's injuries, or Astrid's whereabouts? Sorry, you'll just have to wait for those. Also, in case anyone is wondering, Heather didn't contact Einfari during the fight for the simple reason that it all happened in seconds, a few minutes at most. Einfari had been flying for longer than that long before Astrid struck, and thus wouldn't be able to do anything… And Heather already had enough to deal with.