Maour and Toothless glided high above the ocean within sight of the shore; the long-range patrols had just returned and reported no ships, so the skies around the island were safe for a while.

"Once we're done here we should finish up in the forge," Maour said quietly as they flew. "I feel terrible about taking any time off before what we are making is done." Even if Cloey, Shadow, and Von had all told them to take this close-range patrol shift as a break, he still felt bad about not being able to take shifts with the hatchlings on his own, too; as it was, he wasn't doing nearly enough to feel like he was contributing.

'This is not time off, though,' Toothless objected. He sounded tired, but every Svartur did these days, and Maour knew better than to suggest that he try and find time to sleep more. Tired and wanting to sleep were two very different things. 'We are not even just patrolling. See, there it is.'

"Right where the twins said it would be," Maour marveled. "But where are they?"

'Below the deck, maybe?' Toothless offered. 'There is nobody on it, so we know it's the one they took out while we were away.'

"We think it's ours." After hearing exactly how Nóttreiði had been ambushed in attacking a lone Berserker ship, Maour was wary of making the same mistake. For all they knew, this ship had somehow slipped past the patrols, and the crew was hiding below deck. It was unlikely, but not impossible.

Either way, they needed to go down and find out, so he didn't object when Toothless angled them down toward it. "Let's just be careful," he warned. "If it's not one our side took-"

'I will fly away, sink it, and wonder how it got here,' Toothless interrupted. 'Yes, I know what to do.' Four paws thumped onto the deck. Maour put a hand on the hilt of his scythe.

A hatch flipped open and Tuffnut popped up from below deck, a fish dangling from one hand and his mace in the other. "Surprise!"

Then he disappeared again, and a loud thump was heard, along with a muffled grunt. Blast popped up, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, looking pleased with himself. 'Surprise again!'

"I am hurt!" Tuffnut yelled from out of sight. "Fishlegs, help! Get him off me."

'Oh, please,' Blast hummed. Then he tilted to one side, and his smug expression vanished. He looked down with a surprised yelp. 'Hey, no fair! Get that rope off my tail!'

'So,' Toothless said quietly to Maour as Blast slid back into the dark depths with a surprised yelp, 'do we intervene or just watch? I vote we watch for a while.'

"If we didn't have something important to do, I'd agree," Maour sighed. "Guys, come on up here so we can get started."

"Just a second!" Fishlegs called out. Moments later, Berg clambered up onto the deck, followed by his bulky rider, who was lugging along a plain hammer, one Maour didn't recognize.

"I forgot mine on the Waxears' ship," he admitted sheepishly. "You know, when we left. But this one is just as good."

"I, for one," Tuffnut cried out, hefting a well-polished mace up onto the deck as he climbed up, "would never abandon a beloved weapon. Macey knows this, and that is why she will never leave me."

'Every time he talks to that piece of metal, I doubt my own nose,' Berg murmured to Toothless. 'You cannot smell insanity on him either, right?'

"They're weird, not crazy," Maour said firmly. Or, at the very least, they weren't crazy in the way that dragons could smell, like Astrid or Dagur.

'No, they're crazy in all the fun ways,' Blast corrected, leaping up after Tuffnut and slamming the hatch shut with his tail.

"Ruffnut and Boom won't be joining us," Tuffnut announced gleefully. "Ruffnut is still being punished."

'For telling the Bogs that Myker-whats-his-name was female so they'd pamper him?' Toothless asked, warbling curiously.

'And Boom for not stopping her, because she's the one with direct access to Ruffnut. Our little brother got to decide on one part of the punishment, and he made them take all of his patrol shifts for a month,' Blast recounted. 'So, Boom is dead tired. That's why she's not here.'

"Ruffnut, on the other hand, is gathering a rock collection," Tuffnut continued. "She has to find a hundred little pebbles with cool markings. When she's done, we're going to hide them around the Myrkur caves, and she has to find them all with her eyes closed and without any help from Boom."

'That is a punishment?' Toothless huffed. 'It sounds more like a cross between pranking and mild torture.'

'Well, what else could we do?' Blast argued. 'If she pretended to be a male as payback, everyone would assume she was Tuffnut, and she could get away with things and have him blamed for it. We aren't going to hurt her, and grounding her means grounding Boom, who did nothing wrong. Us pranking her would be fun for her, and she'd just get us back later. All that's left is weird, pointlessly difficult punishments like that one.'

'You do have a point,' Berg admitted. 'And what she did was not so bad in the end. I think that's fair.'

"I think talking about my sister's punishment is slightly less interesting than throwing myself off the side and trying not to drown," Tuffnut interjected, "so let's do something else before I try that to relieve the boredom."

"Yes, let's get to it." Maour slid down off of Toothless's back. "So, Fishlegs, what do we have here? Just to be sure everyone's on the same page."

"This?" Fishlegs shrugged his shoulders. "It's a Berserker warship, medium size, rigged for speed, not combat. There aren't any weapons on the sides, only two catapults, and no net launchers. It did carry twenty soldiers, but it doesn't anymore, for obvious reasons."

"So, it's a pretty generic enemy warship?" Maour asked.

"Right now, yes." Fishlegs frowned. "If the real fleet brought extra weaponry from Berserker island, the ones like this will probably get more catapults and some net launchers."

'Heili will tell us if that's happening,' Blast said confidently. 'He got the cool mission.'

'What is Myrkurheili doing?' Toothless asked skeptically. 'I don't remember hearing about this.' Maour nodded in agreement.

'Two days ago, around noon?' Berg asked.

Maour shook his head. "We would have been asleep then."

'Oh, so you really don't know.' Berg shrugged his wing shoulders. 'A ship came by, and it was heading in a weird direction, so Myrkurheili volunteered to follow it from afar and see where it went. We discussed it, and while some were asleep, every family was represented.'

Maour exchanged a look with Toothless; they both understood why they hadn't known. Shadow had gone on a patrol the next night, and then come in to take a shift watching the hatchlings. He must have just been too tired to remember it then. Everyone was pushing themselves.

'That is a good idea,' Toothless finally admitted. 'If it works, we'll know where they're gathering. If not, we're down only one person for a while. But was Myrkurheili the best person to send?'

Surprisingly, Fishlegs answered that before either Tuffnut or Blast could. "He'll be careful as long as he knows there's no adventure to be had that doesn't end in certain death. Nóttskarpur promised to hunt him down and kill him if she found out he had done anything risky and revealed his presence, and he knows she'll follow through, so all adventure means certain death."

'Now can we please get on with this?' Blast barked, urging Tuffnut into the saddle. 'I want to blow something up today.'

'We're not blowing it up right away,' Toothless cautioned as the three dragons and their riders took to the sky. 'We're just going to practice some low passes, get used to strafing a ship. Then one of us, probably you because you'll throw a fit if it's anyone else, will carefully fire one shot at a time to figure out how many it will take to sink a ship. Got it?'

"You take all the fun out of it with stuff like that," Tuffnut complained. "Why can't me and Blast man the ship, and you guys attack it for real? That'd be more fun and better training."

"If this goes as planned, we can do that with the other ship," Maour promised. "You guys took three in total, right?"

"Yup!" Fishlegs smiled proudly at that. "They're kind of far from here, but we can get them if you give us a night's forewarning."

"But only three," Tuffnut sighed. "I wish I had gotten picked for our ambassador on Mahelmetan. I bet you they're fighting off Berserkers every day."

Heather almost smacked her forehead against the wooden roof of the hut when she heard the distant, unmistakable call of a Night Fury. She stopped just short of the wooden beam that would have given her a splitting headache, reacting in time only because she had hit her head in the past.

"It's not even close to dawn," Camicazi groaned from the bottom bunk below. "I regret letting you stay with us."

"Where's your thirst for adventure?" Heather retorted, sliding down to the floor and quickly pulling herself together. She had no idea what was going on, but if a Night Fury was involved, she needed to look official, not like she had slid out of bed and ran out the door without a second thought.

"It's not an adventure if there's nothing to steal and nobody to fight," was the sleepy reply. "Have fun arguing with idiots."

"You know," Heather cautioned, picking up her bow and quiver, "it might be an actual fight." That was why she was bringing her bow, but if turned out to be nothing, her morning routine involved target practice anyway.

"Drop dead," was Camicazi's reply. "Or fake dropping dead, if it's a fight."

"Helpful," Heather deadpanned, strapping the special ax Maour had made for her to her waist. She was far less skilled with it than with her bow, but she felt bad whenever she left it behind. Not only was it a good backup weapon, he had put a lot of effort into making it for her.

Then she was out the door, leaving the usually energetic Bog-Burglar behind. Bertha wasn't up, which was absolutely no surprise, so she faced no more questions or complaints.

Just as she was shutting the front door behind her, Einfari spoke, using the link. 'That was Eldurfjall, something's up. Where are you?'

"Just getting out onto the street," Heather replied, ignoring the looks she was getting from the few Vikings up and about. She was well past caring what they thought of her personally; so long as their Chief listened to her, and they knew she had authority as one of those speaking for the massive force occupying their island, she didn't need to be liked or respected.

'Find somewhere high, those streets are too narrow for me to pick you up,' Einfari advised.

Heather looked around and spotted a barrel leaning up against a low, slanting roof. One would never see that sort of thing in a village with more difficult winter storms, but here they felt safe assuming five feet of snow wouldn't fall overnight and cave in weak, sloping roofs.

More importantly, it looked scalable, and the barrel offered an easy way up onto it. She knew it would create a scene but she was well past caring about that.

'I'll be there soon,' Einfari announced. 'We'll practice a pickup while we're at it. I see Eldurfjall flying over the forest, so there's no big hurry.'

Heather didn't take the time to look over her shoulder and confirm that Eldurfjall was in the sky; she was too busy making sure she didn't do too much damage to the roof as she made her way up, stepping carefully. It would be just like Rotison to make her pay to repair damages; he was the kind of person to do that out of spite.

Then she was on the spine of the roof, the highest point, one boot on either side to steady her. The village of Mahelmetan was mostly visible from this position, and were she not accustomed to flying and getting far better views, she might have considered this a good vantage point.

As it was, she was more concerned with holding her arms out and hoping Einfari had a good handle on how fast was too fast for an aerial pickup; they had not practiced this particular move before, though it was on the long list of things to get to eventually.

'Three heartbeats,' Einfari called out, giving a mental warning. 'Two,' she immediately continued, 'one-'

True to her word, one nervous heartbeat later, a gust of displaced air nearly unbalanced Heather, and then two strong paws curled around her shoulders, yanking her up into the air.

"I appreciate the gentle handling," she called up once her breath had returned, "but you slowing down almost knocked me off the roof."

Einfari, who was gliding down to an open field, whined at that. 'Sorry, I did not even think of it. So, slowing down needs to be done further away?'

"Ideally. Now, what's going on?"

'We'll know in a moment.' Einfari flew at a near-frantic pace, racing to meet Eldurfjall partway above the forest.

'Humans in small ships,' Eldurfjall mentally cried out as they neared him. 'Coming and going, at dawn. They fired on me!'

"Spies." She knew it for certain, without even needing to check. They might not bear the Berserker crest, or even look like them, but all traffic had to come by the docks, by order of Rotison. Anyone who put in anywhere else on the island would be treated as a spy, because nobody sane would risk it unless they had something to hide. A smarter sort of spy would happily put in and pretend to be going about some other business, right under the noses of the massive fleet anchored nearby, but Viking spies tended to not be that smart, as most Vikings wouldn't want to sully their honor in the occupation to begin with. It was an occupation for those with no honor and low intelligence, a way to make quick money at high risk.

'How many?' Einfari called out as they reached him and kept going. He turned around and caught up to them as they flew. 'Coming and going?'

'Both,' he confirmed. 'A little ship is approaching and will not be here for a while, and another is leaving.'

"Great," Heather groaned. "Did either of you fly over this part of the island before now?"

'Not me,' Einfari growled. 'I like flying way too high to have seen anything.'

'Not me,' Eldurfjall added. 'I was busy studying the habits and reactions of the natives here. I have not done much flying at all, recently.'

"We're probably already too late," she concluded sourly. "They had plenty of time to show up, get a good look around, and leave, and Dagur would have hired a lot of them at staggered times." That was common sense if one had the gold to spare; where one spy might fail, ten unaffiliated spies probably wouldn't, if only by slipping by as their compatriots were caught. It was not certain, nothing was certain here, but it was likely, and they had to assume it had happened.

'We should still catch these, though,' Einfari growled. 'They might know if there were others, or what is being reported, or where reports are going.'

"All good points," Heather agreed. "Eldurfjall, how many?"

'No more than ten in the ship, and however many are in the one approaching.'

"We can take that many on our own,' Einfari hummed thoughtfully. 'Right?'

"Yeah, definitely." Ten men versus two Night Furies? It wouldn't even be much of a fight as long as they were smart about it.

'Down here,' Eldurfjall called out as they neared the edge of the forest and the island. 'See it?'

"Yeah, I do." It would have been harder to pick out if the spies weren't frantically trying to get away. A ship, anchored right off a small cliff, with makeshift rope ladders scaling the cliff. They couldn't be more suspicious if they tried.

'They're all scattering into the forest,' Einfari growled. 'If they get back to the village-'

"They'll blend in with the people, and we'll never find them," Heather concluded. "Okay, for this we need help. Eldurfjall, can you fly over the fields and knock out anyone who makes a run for it?" They were lucky there were fields between the small forest and the village, else it would be almost impossible to catch all of the spies. Eldurfjall could keep them trapped in the forest until search parties could be rounded up and sent out.

"And that makes ten," a rugged Viking called out, marching an equally large and menacing Viking out in front of him, forcing the man to keep moving, his hands tied behind his back. "Ye sure that was all of 'em?"

Eldurfjall nodded enthusiastically. 'Yes, I'm sure,' he warbled.

"Yes," Heather called out on his behalf, "that's all." The ship hadn't left, and in the brief time it had taken to rally some of the Meatheads and Bog Burglars, none had even tried to cross the fields. Seeing their faces now, and the way their eyes locked onto Einfari and Eldurfjall, that made sense. Vikings feared Night Furies.

"I should have gotten up when you did," Camicazi admitted brightly, tossing one of her knives up and catching it. "Next time, pull me out of bed."

"This wasn't much of an adventure," Heather remarked, amused that she was taking the opposite side of the argument this time around. "We didn't even do anything, just flying around and getting other people to go in after them." It hadn't even been hard to do that much; 'spy' might as well be a curse when it came to honorable Vikings, and everyone had been raring to go once they heard it, despite the early hour.

"Yeah, but if I had gone, I could have been here in time to get some action," Camicazi explained ruefully. "You're sure there were only ten of them? I want to hunt someone down."

"This forest's tiny," Bertha announced, coming up behind them and putting her hands on her daughter's shoulders, holding her in place. "And yer not big enough to hunt 'em down without killin' 'em."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Camicazi grumbled, twitching under her mother's restraining grip, "no capturing people big enough to crush me with their weight."

"I've killed men like that," Bertha said seriously. "Gotten out of a few close scrapes that way. Nobody expects to have their chest caved in by being sat on."

'You know,' Einfari hummed thoughtfully, 'that could work for me, too. Against humans, anyway.'

"I'm not helping you practice that," Heather quipped, looking back at her friend.

"I help you practice your bow," Einfari reminded her.

"Yes, but not by serving as the target." She looked up at the slowly brightening sky, and then at the prisoners being herded away. "Bertha, what are the odds they were alone? You're the sneaky tribe."

"Says the girl who rides a dragon that has a reputation for never being seen," Bertha retorted. "Slim to none, I'd say. We'll bulk up preparations and patrols, in case they do somethin' stupid like attacking. It won't come for a while yet, but it will come sooner or later."

"Great. It's time we had some action, not just a few spies or a random Berserker ship sailing too close." Camicazi flipped her knife back into its sheath on her side. "Heather, do you use that ax, or is it just for show?"

"I'm not very good with it," Heather admitted, ignoring the surprised looks that admission pulled from both women. Admissions of inadequacy might be normal on the Isle of Night, but they certainly were not out here, and she really didn't care anymore. "I want to improve, though."

"Let's spar, then," Camicazi offered.

"Later today. I have archery practice now." She considered that more likely to be useful over the course of the coming war, so that took first priority. "And then flying with Einfari, and then walking the village… Noon, maybe?"

"We can make a regular thing of it," Camicazi offered. "It'll help pass the time."

'Anything that makes you more dangerous is a good thing,' Einfari offered. 'Just do not tell my brother about this.'

"You're the one who's going to go back in a few days to report," Heather retorted with a smile. "You can just censor the stuff Nóttreiði wouldn't like right out of what I say." She wasn't entirely sure if Nóttreiði would make a fuss about her learning to fight better; it was hard to say what he would do, let alone what he would really think.

Maour wiped the sweat off of his brow and looked down at a new invention he and Toothless had labored over on and off for the last few weeks. "See anything I'm missing? Any sharp edges, rough patches, horrible mistakes?"

'Of course not,' Toothless rumbled in his mind. Physically, he was curled up around the hatchlings over in the other chamber, but that was no obstacle to him offering his opinion. 'It had better be good, with how hard it was for you to make.'

"What can I say? Sewing isn't my strong suit." He certainly didn't think so now, after spending so long on these supposedly simple pieces of leather and sailcloth. Making the saddle and tailfin had been easy compared to these, though he couldn't pinpoint exactly why that was so, as both were larger and more complex.

Maybe it was just that these were so detailed. Both saddle and tailfin had been large, general shapes, while these new creations had to be exactly the right size, not to mention accounting for insulation, and movement, and ease of use-

He shook his head, leaned back in the rudimentary chair pulled up to the desk in his own little side-cavern, and closed his eyes. Though he wouldn't admit it to Toothless or any of the other Svarturs, he was tired a lot of the time too. They had way more to do than him, and this would hopefully take a little of the burden off of everyone in addition to letting him pull his weight, but still.

'Are we going to do a demonstration tonight?' Toothless asked eagerly. 'Von should be back soon, and it is Mom's turn to watch them next, so she and Dad will be up soon too.'

"Yes. I'll bring it all out." He couldn't help the nervous shake to his tired hands as he gathered everything they had made and brought it out to lie in a corner of the main chamber; he wanted to make things better, but he wasn't entirely sure Cloey would like some of what he had come up with. Her instincts were fickle things, even if she herself was totally reasonable, and something that stressed her was not worth the convenience. It was possible this had all been for nothing.

Later that night, Von stumbled into the cavern and promptly closed her eyes, lying in front of the exit.

"Hey, Von," Maour said softly, going to scratch behind her ears. "I've got something to show everyone, something good, and you're not going to want to miss it."

She opened her eyes, looking back at him. "Okay. But I'm really tired, so it won't be long, will it? I have to watch Fora and Vern tomorrow night."

"What won't be long?" Shadow asked, walking into the cavern looking as rested as any of them ever managed to be nowadays, only slightly tired. Cloey followed after him.

'Maour has some surprises for everyone,' Toothless crowed loudly, his voice almost humming with enthusiasm. 'We have been working on them in secret.' He let Fora and Vern, both awake at the moment, out from under his wing. They both seemed more or less uninterested, preoccupied with flapping the tiny wings that had come up from their backs a few weeks prior.

"Right, and I'll be quick about it," Maour added, walking over to the devices he had stashed in the corner. "First, we have these." He pulled out two small wooden trays, each about twice the length and width of a hatchling, and an inch or so deep.

'Our biggest problem is cleaning up after them, right?' Toothless asked excitedly. 'Guess what these do.'

"Way to spoil it, brother," Maour complained. "I'll be filling these with sand. Fora and Vern are pretty regular, so to speak, so after they eat, just put them on these. Then, once they've done their business," and it was a testament to how tired and excited he was that at no point did he care enough to feel embarrassed about what he was saying, "just take these outside and dump them. I can refill them with clean sand."

Cloey walked over and pawed at the currently empty trays, her eyes wide. "No more messes on the floor," she warbled. "No more stripping out the moss to clean up. No more stench.'

"That's the plan," Maour agreed. It probably wouldn't work all the time, because accidents would happen, but it would help immensely. He really should have thought of these sooner, given it had only taken him a day to refine the simple idea and make them.

Cloey licked him right across the face, startling him. "I love these already. Thank you."

"I think we are all going to be thanking you," Shadow called out proudly. "Repeatedly. Incessantly, even."

"Once is enough," Maour replied, smiling widely as he wiped his face off. "And that's not all." He returned to the corner and lifted one of the leather and cloth ensembles. "As you all know, I can't put out enough heat to keep them warm, and therefore can't watch them on my own."

"And this changes that?" Von asked eagerly.

"Sort of." As he spoke, he set up the little arrangement on the stone in front of Vern, who watched with mild interest. "They need heat, and I can't provide it alone. They also can't heat each other enough on their own, because then just huddling together would be good. But in here…"

He reached out and picked Vern up, carefully lifting him from below. Supposedly he could just grab Vern's scruff and lift him that way, but he wasn't comfortable doing that. He set Vern in the half-dome of leather and cloth, and then quickly nestled Fora in beside him.

'That may be the cutest thing I have ever seen them do,' Von rumbled, leaning down to get a closer look.

"Agreed." Both hatchlings had immediately nestled together and were staring out of the little leather cave with identical wide-eyed looks. "And it holds in their body heat." He hoped. He had gotten the idea from Viking tents and blankets, and had combined the two. The little dome was just big enough to hold them, though it would be easily expanded, part of what made creating it so difficult, and had only the one hole in the front, where he had put them in.

'Are you sure?' Cloey asked nervously. 'It looks cozy, but that is not the same thing as being warm.'

"We're testing it now, and next time Toothless has a shift, we'll test it then too." It should work, he had insulated it more thoroughly than his own clothing, and that was good enough to hold up to the frigid chill of the air above the clouds.

Everyone sat in silence, their eyes focused on the hatchlings, who stared back. Moments passed, and neither hatchling so much as squirmed in discomfort, though they would seek heat the moment they grew too cold. Vern pawed a little at Fora, and then both began to fall asleep, their eyelids drooping down.

"That's a pretty promising start," Maour said quietly, relief flooding his body. "Obviously, we won't trust it to be enough until we've made sure it works indefinitely, or when they're already cold to start, but if it's good enough no matter what the situation is…"

"Test it carefully," Cloey requested. "More than you think it needs. Even after you are already sure."

"I plan to." He wasn't going to take the slightest risk, and he had anticipated her worry; either was sufficient to drive him to be more cautious than absolutely necessary.

'If it works, you will be able to tend them on your own?' Shadow asked.

"That's the idea," he admitted. "I want to pull my weight."

"You have more than done so already," Shadow said firmly. "But we will not reject the extra help. What is the other for?"

"That's in case they soil this one, because it's going to be hard to clean." Ideally, with a spare, he would have time to thoroughly clean and air out the soiled one before it needed to be used again. He also planned on making many more, both to have more extras and to pass around to the other families for future use, but that was probably going to have to wait until after the war.

"I want it for when I watch them," Von asserted. "They are just too cute like that."

'Don't keep them in there too long at a time when they are not supposed to be sleeping,' Shadow cautioned. "They need to move around."

'Of course, but for when they do sleep…' She paused to yawn. 'You don't have any of those for our size, do you Maour?'

"I don't know if you'd want one," he replied seriously. "You don't' have any trouble keeping warm, so it might just feel stuffy and confining." He could try and make her one someday, if she really wanted it, but that would be a daunting task.

"I was just kidding," she murmured, heading deeper into the caves. "Good work, brother."

"This will make it so much easier on all of us," Cloey purred, nuzzling him. "Again, thank you. Can you take them out? It is good, but I want them against my side today."

"Sure. If they were awake, they could climb out themselves." He carefully lifted Fora, and then Vern, over to Cloey.

Shadow walked over to him next. 'I'm proud of you.' That was all he said, but it was more than enough to convey his approval.

"Thanks," Maour managed. After five years it shouldn't have been so unexpected, but it was anyway.

'What about me?' Toothless called out, on his way out to the entrance to the caverns. 'I helped.'

'You too,' Shadow agreed. 'Though I suspect your greatest contribution was holding your tongue until everything was ready.'

'Definitely,' Toothless agreed. 'I'll be sleeping out here, Maour.'

"I'll be there in a moment," Maour agreed. He wasn't quite done.

'There is more, isn't there?' Shadow hummed knowingly once Toothless was gone.

"Not more inventions, but yeah," Maour admitted. "War's coming, right? We might need everybody to fight. If things get bad, are you going to be able to trust someone else to watch them for a time?" He felt he had to ask, if only to plan around whatever answer he got.

Cloey sighed sadly. 'I hate the very thought, but if it gets that bad, maybe. I fear I wouldn't be a very good fighter if that happens, though. I would be too distracted.'

"I figured." He rolled his shoulders, feeling uncomfortable. "And if everything really goes bad… Should I make slings for them?"

'Slings?' Shadow asked.

"LIke these," he gestured with a toe at his insulated cocoon invention, "but made to go across your chest so that you can carry them in flight." He hadn't made them yet, because if anything would trigger Cloey's protective instinct-

"I do not like that idea,' Cloey hissed. 'It sounds far too risky. Flight is cold for full-grown dragons, and we would not be able to adjust them or turn back, and there would be no way to save them if we set out and then found that it was not enough.' She hugged her sleeping hatchlings close. 'I do not want to imagine setting out with them lively and warm, and landing to find them cold and-'

'Then do not think of it,' Shadow interrupted, leaning down to rest his head on her back. 'Do not think of it.'

"That's why I didn't make them," Maour admitted into the awkward silence. "I think I could make it work, but there would be no way to test it. I just wanted to consider potential situations." There were some choices, some kinds of responsibility, that he didn't want to carry. They were more suited to deciding this than him.

'Make them,' Shadow requested, to Cloey's distress. He sat down and draped himself across her back in comfort. 'In a last resort, better to have a chance than none. If it is flee and risk it or die, we would of course flee.'

'Never use them,' Cloey whined at Maour. 'When you finish them, give them to me. I do not want to worry about them being used unless it is absolutely necessary.'

Maour nodded, not bothering to argue that somewhat reasonable precaution. This was what he had wanted; them taking charge and making the choice. He'd make the slings as best he could, and then give them to her to hide wherever she chose. One last resort, kept in a way that did not worry her.

'It will not come to that,' Shadow added. 'But thank you for thinking of it anyway. It's always best to have a plan ready for the worst possibilities.'

"I really hope it doesn't come to that," Maour said to himself, turning to go and try to get some sleep. He doubted he'd be successful; Cloey's hastily interrupted words were already haunting him, adding to his less explicitly described worries about such a device failing when it mattered most.

Some things he didn't want to trust to his inventive prowess. Nobody was perfect, and he almost never got things exactly right on the first try. It would be better all around if they just made sure it never came to that point.

Heather slammed her ax down into the ground, burying both blades in the dirt. She felt wrung out, her arms and shoulders aching fiercely.

"That's all for today," Camicazi said briskly. "You're lasting longer, for sure. If you ditched the ax and went with knives, it would be a lot easier. I could lend you my second-best set."

"No, I'm fine," Heather replied, grunting at the effort of yanking the ax out of the ground and hooking it to her waistband. She wasn't fine, not at the moment, but she didn't want to try knives. They wouldn't be effective against larger targets with bulky armor, and that was exactly the sort of target that would be able to withstand her bow and get within melee range.

"So, where are we going now?" Camicazi asked, following her as she left the field.

"Shade," was her first answer, as that was what she was seeking in heading to the outskirts of the village. The sun was not kind on days like this, and it made her head ache. She missed sleeping during the day, which was a surprise. But the days were getting long and hot, and the nights were almost always pleasantly cool. She supposed she would feel differently about the sun's warmth when Winter came around.

"Okay," Camicazi said once they had reached a pleasantly dark shadow and stood in it for a while, "where next?"

"You don't have to follow me around," Heather replied.

"Eh, you look lonely without your extra shadow," Camicazi joked. "She'll be back tonight, right?"

"That's right." Einfari had gone back to give a report and was flying back here even now.

"You know," Camicazi said casually, "that tells me your island is close."

Heather smiled condescendingly. "Do you really think it's that easy to figure out?" she asked, lying through her teeth. She had long since come up with the answer to that particular deduction, as it wasn't a hard one to make. "She gives her report to whoever has flown out to meet her."

Camicazi frowned. "I should have figured," she admitted after a moment. "But anyway, you can tell me. I won't snitch."

"No, I really can't, I swore not to." No matter how likeable she is, Heather silently added.

"Eh, fine," Camicazi conceded. "I'll figure it out eventually. So, where are we going?"

"Nowhere in particular." She needed to wander the village, specifically the docks, and make sure there wasn't anything unusual going on, but other than that she was just passing the time until nightfall.

"Have a nice flight?" Heather asked, embracing her friend right at the edge of the woods. They were alone, and that was how she liked it. The night sky beckoned, and she didn't doubt that Einfari would be up for a nice, long flight, even if she had just spent the day in the sky.

'Very nice, as you would know if you had checked in on me even once today,' Einfari laughed. 'What had you so busy?'

"Archery, sparring, and then explaining to about a dozen Meatheads that no, just because we're occupying their island does not mean they get first pick of the goods any trader brings in." Honestly, it felt like some of their allies were trying to offend the villagers who lived here with stuff like that. Starving out their hosts was a recipe for disaster, and yet every other common Viking seemed to think they were entitled to some sort of benefit just for being with the occupying force.

'That took all day?'

"Pretty much," she huffed. "First it was just them, then they escalated it to their Chief, and then Rotison got wind of the whole thing and tried to solve it all when I had it sorted and set us back to square one. Then I got to explain to Mogadon that no, I wasn't interfering in his tribe, I was just keeping the peace."

'I guess that explains it,' Einfari huffed. 'Well, so much the better.'

"How do you figure that?" Heather asked irritably. She hadn't had a very good day.

'It made it easier to hide the other person visiting,' Einfari said bluntly, gesturing toward the forest. 'We can go flying in a little bit. Someone wants to talk to you.'

"And you're not going to tell me who," Heather guessed, now more curious than annoyed. "I just walk into the forest?"

'Yup. Have a nice talk. I'll be waiting here.' Einfari made a show of settling down in the grass and relaxing.

Heather made her way into the dark forest, glad that her vision had improved to the point that it wasn't difficult to navigate at night. When she heard a rustling behind her, she held up a hand and took a shot in the dark.

"Einfari is helping you, so you're not a Myrkur, because she does not go in for helping them prank," she theorized. "The Svarturs don't do this sort of thing on a whim, Toothless only did it because it was a special occasion. The Eldurs just wouldn't see the point. Therefore, you're a Nótt. And you're obviously an adult, from the sound of your movement."

There was no response. Heather smiled at the trees in front of her.

"What's more, Einfari isn't quite sure what to make of her brother, so I can rule him out. Between Skarpur and Nóttleiðtogi, Skarpur is more likely to want to come to an island of humans. Hello, Skarpur." She turned around.

Nóttleiðtogi rumbled in dry amusement, pressing a paw down to snap a small branch. 'You underestimate me,' he remarked.

"What brings you out here?" Heather asked, more than a little worried. It would take something important to drive Nóttleiðtogi so close to so many humans, many untrustworthy. "Is something wrong?"

'No,' he replied. 'Relax. It is not so hard for me to come here, knowing that Einfari is watching to be sure none come near us. Though I am here for an important reason. There is a matter of trust between us.'

"Have I done something to break that trust?" she asked nervously. She didn't see how, but if he was here instead of just chastising her through Einfari, it had to be bad.

'How do I put this?' Nóttleiðtogi rumbled, looking away, his grey eyes scanning the forest around them. He was tense, if not as much as Heather had thought he would be, given their location. 'You are here, in a nest of humans, far from our island. Your presence no longer lurks in our caves. Your smell has begun to fade.'

Heather rolled her shoulders, not sure whether she should be offended, confused, or worried. She didn't know what he was trying to say.

'I miss you,' he abruptly continued, swinging his head around to meet her eyes. 'Call me crazy, but I had grown more used to you than I knew. It has bothered me these last few weeks, not having you around, not hearing you talk, not spending time with you on occasion.'

"I… Don't know what to say, honestly," Heather admitted. "I kind of have to be here, unless Maour or Fishlegs-"

Nóttleiðtogi cut her off with a slash of his tail. "The former is needed by his family, and the latter unsuited to what you do on a daily basis. No, I am here just to tell you that you are missed, by me and by Skarpur and by Joy. Maybe even by Nóttreiði, somewhere in the confused depths of his heart.'

"I'm flattered. I miss you all too," she admitted. "I'd rather be there than here."

'You're the right person for this job,' Nóttleiðtogi countered. 'I trust you to do this. Here, among humans, with every chance to sell us out, I trust you.' He shook his head wryly. 'It does not feel so odd to me until I say something like that.'

"Thank you. Really, thank you. That means a lot to me." She hadn't expected something like this, but it felt good to hear.

'When you and my daughter go flying tonight, I will fly with you,' he offered. 'If you would like that?'

"Sure." She did miss casually doing things with him, like they had back on the Isle of Night. It would be nice to catch up in some way. "You're not staying, are you?"

'There are limits to how much I have healed,' he rumbled sternly. 'For my safety and sanity, no. Just tonight, with my daughter watching over me as I sleep in the safest possible place on this island, before I make the trip back.'

"Still. I'd be glad to have you along." He turned to go to Einfari, and she followed, walking alongside him.

It was not a small thing that he had done, flying all the way out here just to talk to her and maybe fly a little before heading back. She was touched by the gesture, even more so because she knew full well he meant her to notice how much effort he had put into making it. The same message delivered by proxy would not have meant nearly so much.

'Oh, one more thing,' he said quietly as they walked. 'You may call me Togi.'

Heather couldn't help but smile at that. The day might have been terrible, but her night was already making up for it. "Thanks, Togi."

Author's Note: I wanted to end this one on a little bit of genuine progress; as it turns out, losing Heather's constant presence was the last push Togi needed (and maybe some sessions with Maour, if Maour could find time for that). We've still gotten nowhere with Raethi, though… Oh, I have plans for him.

(Also, for those who are wondering, there are about ten chapters left in this story. Plenty of plot, and a lot of action, but only ten chapters.)