Myrkurheili was bored. The explosive mountain was only interesting if it actually exploded, and it was just spitting out ash and occasional globs of hot rock. The Berserkers down around the base of the mountain were no more interesting; they swarmed like ants, but ants that would kill him if he messed with them. No fun to be had there.
He paced the perimeter of the tiny sea stack just out of sight of the volcano, and sighed. He wished he still had Fishlegs around to mess with. Prodding the large, timid human to embrace his size and clearly violent breeding was fun and useful, which was more than he could say for most of the things he did. Fishlegs would be much better off once he lost the reluctance to fight and started throwing his weight around.
He'd even settle for the twins. They weren't quite as entertaining, being far too inured to insanity by now, but he could test their ingenuity by challenging them to a prank war on this desolate sea stack and seeing what they came up with, lacking many of the resources a successful trickster took for granted, like privacy to plan, space, or anything in the environment to use to their advantage.
Barring that, he'd at least like to see a fleet of ships sailing out, leaving for some distant destination and releasing him from his sentry duty. He didn't regret volunteering, at least he was doing something other than mourning the fallen and retreating, but it did get painfully boring.
He turned and leaned over the edge, looking down at the water. Maybe he could go find an island nearby, mess with the natives, and then come back-
But that would be at least a night's trip, and he might miss the fleet leaving if he took a break for that long. He couldn't return to the pack a failure; Ský would laugh and make fun of him for weeks, and he would deserve it for not being able to sit still and do what he promised.
Myrkurheili dropped off the sea stack, flapped once to arrest his fall, and set out toward the ash cloud that obscured the mountain. If he was going to be bored, he was going to be bored while flying above the mountain and looking down on the enemy. They'd never see him; they weren't expecting to see a Night Fury, and even in the less than perfect conditions presented by the ever-present ash and glowing volcanic peak, he was almost invisible. Maybe he would see something interesting.
Gobber's stump itched; his arm jerked uncontrollably. Ash again. Stuck between stump and prosthetic.
He sighed, stopping his climb on a convenient ledge, and began unwinding the cords that held the prosthetic cup to his stump. Nothing for it but to clean it out. He had nothing but time, and only one life, which he was already risking in this ascent.
And for what? A view of the glowing peak? True isolation, a place where he could be sure none had followed? Not even Dagur had come up here, though more because he didn't have a whole day to spend climbing up, to say nothing of the descent. Nobody would be around.
Maybe he was just itching to burn time, he mused as he briskly wiped off his calloused stump and the inside of the wooden bowl of his prosthetic. He felt exceedingly helpless; there was no way to warn Maour of the impending strike or its target, and nothing to do but help Astrid and wait, neither of which was appealing.
Gobber would like nothing better than to bury a blade in her back. But to do it now wouldn't help much. He had to do it when her death would disrupt or destroy the Berserkers. He knew that, but it was tempting nonetheless.
He laughed to himself. Her tunnel vision was useful; she didn't even notice the murderous intent lying behind his apparently drunken exterior. Nobody did, but she really should. His control was fraying, a jury-rigged rope holding up more and more weight, visibly parting a little more with every day he was forced to help her and act as her loyal servant.
He was climbing for the challenge, just a rock pick and a canteen, something that made him feel strong and pushed his limits. The summit was close; it was hard to tell how long he had been climbing, but progress was easy to track. A strange, fell light illuminated the clouds above-
A dark shape flitted in front of said clouds, there for only an instant. He squinted, willing it to return, but it did not.
Possibly just wishful thinking, a drift of ash confusing him. Or maybe it was a dragon, but a feral one uninvolved in all of this. Night Furies were the only ones Maour interacted with, which wasn't really that odd. Other kinds of dragons were scarce, more and more so with every year, as they presumably spread out and found less dangerous places to live.
Only the Night Furies were waging a war and doggedly forcing the world to recognize them. Was there irony in that, the most unknown species becoming the most well-known in their efforts to survive? He didn't know and didn't really care.
Gobber continued his climb, ignoring the futility of what he was doing in the grand scheme of things. He was burning time, waiting for the moment he had anticipated for months.
When he eventually reached the peak, he was not disappointed, but only because his expectations had not been high. A simple rock lip, jagged and uneven, with a steep drop on the other side, an uneven oval with the depths of Muspelheim lying far below.
He found a place to sit, a chunk of black rock jutting out of the steep slope, and claimed it as his own, brushing off the thickly-caked ash to hopefully make his perch less slippery. He would sit there for a while before descending; his body ached from the long climb.
The volcano rumbled threateningly under him; he ignored it. Either it would erupt and wipe him out of existence, or it would do nothing. He didn't feel like worrying about things he couldn't change or prepare for. It hadn't erupted so far, and that was good enough for him.
Myrkurheili landed silently on the far side of the peak, perching precariously on the lip of the opening, staring at the odd-looking human who had scaled the mountain and was now sitting with its back to him.
There was no danger here. He was fairly certain the odd false limbs this one bore matched the description he had been given of their spy, the one who wanted to help them. And if not, he could easily knock it halfway down the mountain with a single swipe or small blast of fire, and it would die from seemingly natural causes, leaving no trace of his existence.
So long as it didn't somehow kill him, there was no danger in approaching and seeing what happened. Given it wasn't even armed, aside from a tiny false claw he wasn't worried about, he felt safe.
He carefully made his way around the lip, placing each paw with a light touch in case the stone was loose. Rockslides had caught him unaware before, and this was a particularly deadly position to be caught out in.
Once he was close enough, he growled. The human's back stiffened, and it slowly turned to look at him.
"Guess ye weren't just a bit o' ash in the wind," the human said to itself. "I 'ope ye understand when I say I'm a friend, despite the look o' things."
Myrkurheili nodded, glad he had long since learned to understand humans when they spoke. He had known, and it wasn't like he was going to put himself in a vulnerable position either way, so there was no harm in admitting as much and allowing the human some peace of mind.
"Great," the human said vehemently. "Gods, this is great. Ye gotta tell Maour, they know where ye all live. Or they think they do. Somewhere within a day's flight o' where they attacked last, righ'?" He made as if to point, gesturing his false paw, but was stymied by the featureless smog all around the mountain.
Myrkurheili snarled, his body tensing. That was bad; even lacking a direction, it was clear from what the human had said that the secret was out.
"Oy," the human protested, "it wasn' me, I don' even know for sure tha' they're right! Astrid figured it out. She is righ' about where ye all are?"
Myrkurheili huffed angrily. He wished he could speak directly, or communicate in some way. Nods and growls just weren't enough, but they were all he had. He tilted his head and flicked his tail, not directly confirming the human's words just in case this was a trick to get confirmation.
The human probably didn't understand the gesture that meant 'go on', but he did anyway. "Ye will tell Maour, righ'? They're headin' there as soon as the fleet's ready, a few days at most. Wish I 'ad somethin' to write a note wit'."
Myrkutheili shrugged his wings impatiently. Here was an excuse to fly home right now; he was already itching to get away from this ash-covered island. It made no sense to wait for the fleet to set out when he already knew when and where they were going.
"Ye'll tell 'im?" the human asked again.
He nodded, exaggerating the motion just to make sure he was understood. He'd tell Maour, and everyone else. This was important.
"Good luck to ye, then. I'm gonna stick around, not that I've got a choice," the human grumbled.
'Have fun in this miserable cloud,' Myrkurheili quipped, leaping up and flying upward as directly as he could, powering through the stifling ash cloud to emerge above it, gasping in clean air.
He oriented himself with the setting sun and turned to face homeward. It was time to see just how quickly he could get back. Lives might depend on it.
Heather sat on the roof of her hut, watching the sun set. She felt good, content in a way she felt far too seldomly. Things weren't perfect, and there was trouble on the horizon, but for the moment she was happy.
Some of that definitely had to do with the lack of pain from her back. As it turned out, Night Fury saliva worked wonders on burns, and she had recovered quickly. If only it worked so well on other injuries. There was a limit to how much could be helped when the damage was serious.
Another reason for her happiness was in the hut underneath her. Einfari had flown out to trade places with Skarpur so that she could visit Togi, and right now the two of them were reunited. Heather hadn't been told to leave but had decided they deserved some privacy anyway.
She doubted they could do anything that demanded privacy anyway, given how weak Togi's wounds made him, but that was as far as she was willing to speculate.
So there was that. Einfari was gone, off taking care of her sister, and if Heather wanted she could watch the two play, but she didn't feel like it.
And what of Nóttreiði?
She looked back at the black mass covering the other side of the roof, his back to her. "What are you looking at?"
'Nothing,' he said quietly. 'The empty sky,' he elaborated after a moment.
"Instead of the setting sun?" She thought she had an idea of how he would react to that, so she was careful to sound casual, not argumentative. So long as she didn't annoy him, he often forgot to be awkward around her, and it was better for both of them when he wasn't awkward.
'I would rather not ruin my eyes,' he said.
"Makes sense," Heather said, though it didn't. Surely Nóttreiði could look in the sun's general direction if he actually wanted to. As far as she knew, it wouldn't even temporarily ruin his night vision, like looking at a light would for humans. "Do you see anything interesting?"
'The lights of human fires at the bottom of my vision, like embers,' he said slowly. 'Empty, dark expanses of sky, lit by countless stars just becoming visible as the dark descends…'
Heather smiled. That was almost poetic, though she didn't think Nóttreiði would take her saying so as a compliment.
'... Two angry faces scowling at me as they approach,' Nóttreiði continued in the same monotone. 'The clouds-'
"What?" Heather asked a beat too late, her mind only then catching the disparity. She turned around to see Maour and Toothless approaching rapidly.
'That,' Nóttreiði grunted, standing and shaking himself. 'What is it?' he called out.
Maour's face, Heather saw as they drew closer, was grave. "Trouble."
Heather perched atop a bar stool behind the counter, leaning against the bar and staring at the tense assembly in front of her.
"I'll take a mead with goat blood," Camicazi announced, walking over to the other side of the bar. "Extra fresh. Kill it in front of me."
"I think that's not an actual drink," Heather retorted. "And I'm no barmaid. Get it yourself."
"Anything can be a drink if I want it to be," Camicazi retorted, hopping up onto one of the stools. "But I was just joking about how you're on that side of the counter."
"I wanted a good view of the whole room," Heather said shortly. Einfari was watching through her eyes, and the rest of the pack was gathered around her, save for those on Mahelmetan or out on patrol. Everyone who could possibly be present was, in some form or another. Skarpur slunk restlessly through the space under the counter on Heather's side, hidden from sight but still able to hear, and if she were to poke her head out around the edge, to see. She hadn't stopped moving once in the time she had been in the tavern.
"Whatever. So, what's the big problem?" Camicazi asked.
"Guess," Heather said bitterly. "What's the worst possible thing we could have just learned?"
"Easy," Camicazi said. "Dagur and Astrid are Odin's chosen warriors, and all who stand in their way are struck from existence."
"Excluding acts of the gods." Heather watched as Mogadon flung the door open, stomped into the room, and claimed a whole table for himself.
"They've learned how to raise the dead and have an undead army," Camicazi suggested. "They've got a pet Skrill, or some other crazy dragon. A Night Fury army of their own. They found your island, wherever it is. They-"
"One of those is right," Heather interrupted. She could see that Maour, who had claimed a table in the middle of the room for himself and Toothless, was about to speak. "Shut up and listen."
"Who stabbed you in the backside?" Camicazi muttered, spinning around on her stool to face the rest of the room.
'Remind me,' Einfari requested, 'does she know about that?'
"Me actually being stabbed there?" Heather murmured. "I'm not sure. Ruffnut might have told her about it on the way up here."
'I would assume she knows,' Skarpur suggested. 'Do you know anything about her to use in retaliation?'
"Not really," Heather admitted.
"We have a big problem," Maour announced, standing on the table. Heather assumed he was doing so for dramatic effect, as the tavern was mostly empty, and everyone was paying attention already, even the stocky Rockbreaker who was acting as their temporary chief, though he was only watching out of the corner of his eye.
"It'd help if ye explained," Mogadon drawled. "Or are ye waitin' for us to figure it out for ye, like ye did wit' the attack?"
Heather distinctly heard Skarpur growling from under the counter. Camicazi looked around, confused, and stared at Toothless, seeing no other source for the noise.
"The Berserkers know where the Isle of Night is and are coming straight for us," Maour said, ignoring Mogadon. His news was more than enough to take everyone's minds off the resentment Mogadon had raised, anyway. "We don't know how, but we do have it straight from a trusted informant, passed on to a scout we left behind. They're coming back as soon as they can sail as a fleet."
"Eh, big deal," Bertha grunted. "We can fight them there, if ye'll tell us where it is. We can get there in time, righ'?"
"Aye," Aldir agreed, "if they know then everyone will soon, so there's no harm in sharing."
Maour shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe," he said noncommittally, looking to Heather. "What does the pack think?"
'Tell him we are debating it,' Einfari supplied. 'Thoroughly.'
"I'll let you know once the pack decides on something," Heather offered.
'And I will speak for my family, and approve or not,' Skarpur hissed, pawing at Heather's foot to ensure she had her attention.
"When the whole pack has decided," Heather clarified.
'We went to such lengths to hide it,' Toothless groaned. 'How did they find out?'
"Until then, I'll not be saying anything more on the subject," Maour concluded. "But we have a lot to decide here and now. Assume we can get there in time to mount a defense, and assume that you'll have most of my people fighting."
"Most?" Mogadon grunted. "Boy, now's not the time to hold back."
"We are fighting this war to protect our future," Maour shot back, "and that future will not be left defenseless. A few Furies will be occupied guarding those who cannot protect themselves, just in case. If Astrid or Dagur reach our home, they will raze it to the ground and slaughter every living thing there. That will not include our young and frail."
"Sounds like you should all just fly away," Camicazi volunteered thoughtfully. "They can't kill what they can't find."
"There are complications," Maour said bluntly. "If anyone could lend a ship and the bare minimum of a crew, that would make things easier."
"We've got injured who can't fight but can sail, we can offer that," Bertha immediately volunteered. "I like the idea of Dagur showing up only to find nothing worth killing. We're stealing his prey out from under him."
"Even if there is nobody worth killing there, he will still ruin the place," Heather interrupted, purposely avoiding mentioning that it was an island at all. Until they got the okay, she wasn't going to give anything away, even by accident.
"Heather is right, we need to defend the place, too, and we need to destroy their fleet once and for all," Maour said firmly. "Strike in the water, away from any land at all, fleet against fleet."
"Wit' better tactics than last time," Aldir added forcefully. "We didn't do so well then, and we won't now if we don't change anything."
'I have some ideas, and Togi gave me more earlier,' Skarpur volunteered. 'Should I share them now or later?'
"We'll get to that in a moment," Maour said loudly, answering her without so much as hinting at her presence, something Heather was sure Skarpur appreciated. "First, we need to talk logistics. How many ships do we have available?"
"Enough," Mogadon said. "But unless ye wanna tell us where ta sail 'em, they won' be any use."
"Directly into the attacking armada," Maour retorted. "As quickly as possible, to engage them far from their target."
"Bad idea," Bertha interrupted. "It'd be better to find where they're anchoring along the way, wait until nightfall, and ambush them."
"Because an ambush worked so well last time," Mogadon retorted. "We should just let 'em land on this island, and then fight there. We can trap em on their ships when they beach, 'ave dragons blast 'em apart, and then clean up wha' remains."
"That would be great, but only if they weren't trying to raze our island to the ground," Maour said firmly. "Astrid or Dagur setting foot on the island means we've already lost."
"Sounds ta me like ye lost the moment they discovered where ye live, then," Mogadon said smugly. "So get over it and let the rest o' us show you how ta win."
'Heather, they've almost reached a decision back at home,' Einfari reported, startling Heather. 'I think they will agree to let it happen. The secret is already well and truly out, and Fishlegs was very convincing in saying that we cannot hide it again now that an entire armada knows.'
"We could kill them all," Heather mused darkly. "That would fix it." Assuming that however they had originally obtained the knowledge could not be redone… How had Astrid, or a spy, or any human managed it? The Isle had scouts, they had been careful. The Vikings closest to them, most likely to notice any unintended hints, still didn't know.
'The Myrkurs said as much, but he says we would have to raze their island to be sure, and we both cannot and do not want to do that,' Einfari replied. 'They are voting now... '
Heather closed her eyes, momentarily ignoring the continued discussion over the plan, and saw what Einfari could see.
The central cavern, of course, but from a different perspective than normal, right on the edge of the Nótt ledge. She was acting as the spokesdragon for the family, because neither Skarpur nor Togi was home at present.
'We don't like it,' Svarturskuggi was saying, addressing the entire cavern, 'and we don't want it, but our enemies know. There can be no further harm done by telling the rest. If we do not have their help defending this place, we will lose it anyway. My family votes yes, we let them know.'
'We worked so hard to keep ourselves hidden, and now it all comes to nothing,' Myrkurhryðjuverk said solemnly. 'This is not fun, or entertaining, or any of that… But we have no choice, and when it comes to secrets and strategy, we are willing to take risks. So long as the Nótts have nothing more to say, we agree to let it be known.'
"Same here," Fishlegs called out. "I mean, I speak for us. We don't like it, but we really don't have a choice either."
'Let me talk to my mother for a moment,' Einfari requested. 'Heather?'
"On it," Heather murmured, returning to her own senses. Nothing had changed except that Skarpur was staring at her intently.
'Well?' Skarpur asked.
"It's basically up to you," Heather explained. "And Togi, but he's not here." She still wasn't entirely sure how they shared power between them; was this something Skarpur could commit to on her own, or would she have to consult him first?
'He has already told me to decide for myself,' Skarpur said, answering Heather's unspoken question, 'so my choice is also his, and either way we will be in agreement. I have to admit, I do not like the idea at all.'
"Neither do I, or really any of us," Heather agreed. Not only was she unhappy with giving away the secret at all, she didn't want the likes of Mogadon knowing it, ally or not. For that matter, the quiet, subdued stand-in Chieftain for the Rockbreakers was sitting in a dark corner, watching but not offering his opinion. She didn't like the idea of his tribe knowing either. One of their number had already betrayed a Fury once, even if Sigvard had supposedly been acting alone. Others might share his priorities and disregard for their dragon allies.
'But it is not as if we will be keeping the secret either way,' Toothless said, chiming in with his own opinion. He seemed bored of the repetitive argument occurring between Maour and the Chieftains. 'It is either tell them now and keep their trust and aid, or lose both and let them find out later in one way or another.'
'And put like that,' Skarpur sighed, digging her claws into the polished wood that made up the side of the bar counter, 'there should be no debate. One path is obvious. Let them know. We will pay the price of that knowledge whether we give it or not, so we might as well give it.'
"That's a yes?" Heather asked.
'It is,' Skarpur confirmed. 'Maour, if you would bring them around to discussing tactics, I have something to contribute.'
"Got it," Maour confirmed. "Heather," he said loudly, speaking over a side argument between Bertha and Aldir, "has there been a decision?"
"Yes," Heather replied, ignoring the many eyes turned her way," there has. We can reveal the location, bring them near, and prepare to fend off the enemy from there."
"Or we could intercept 'em on the way and ambush in the dark," Bertha said again. "I'm liking that idea."
"That is one thing," Maour agreed. "We also need to decide how we will be fighting them, and when, night or day."
"It would be prudent to decide exactly what role your people will play in this fight now, as well," Aldir added.
"Exactly what I was thinking," Maour agreed. "And it just so happens we have one of the Isle's most skilled tacticians here with us."
"You're not all of that," Mogadon said dismissively.
"I wasn't talking about me," Maour retorted. "Skarpur?"
Skarpur stood, rising above the bar counter and startling Camicazi, who fell back off of her stool in surprise. She gave the assembled Chieftains a decidedly unimpressed stare. 'Heather, if you would?'
"Yes, I can translate," Heather agreed.
'Will there be any stupid challenges to my intelligence or the truth that I am being fairly represented,' Skarpur asked coldly, 'or can we get right to what matters?' Heather did her best to convey the tone as well as the words.
"Always something new and strange," Mogadon grumbled. "I don' care whether it's the girl or the dragon talking, just tell us what you've got." The other Chieftains seemed to share his sentiment, echoing his decision in their own words so as to not appear weak.
'Good,' Skarpur purred. 'Now, I have been at one fight, and had others tell me all about the other. There are weaknesses and strengths to both of our peoples, and there are ways to combine them better than we have.'
As Heather continued, outlining Skarpur's analysis of the war so far, she could see the skepticism in Mogadon's eyes slowly fading, replaced by discomfort.
She understood why he was uncomfortable, and smiled grimly as Skarpur laid bare every tactical failing of the Viking fleets. They were going to adapt for this fight, and if Mogadon saw hints that the Furies were more than capable of outthinking him in a fair fight, well, that was a side benefit.
'Is it strange that I feel hope and horrible dread at the same time?' Toothless asked, gliding over the allied fleet. 'This is so wrong, but…'
"It only feels wrong because we've never done it before," Maour said, feeling very much the same. It was a strange thing, to be directing humans to the Isle, not diverting or accosting them to prevent exactly that. But he had to be hopeful, because if not then what was the point? "Maybe, someday soon, we won't have to worry if we see ships while out on patrol."
'Soon?' Toothless barked incredulously. 'Even if we win this, these are only a few groups of humans, and we do not even really trust them!'
"What can I say," Maour said ruefully, "I'm choosing to be an optimist." He might even be truly optimistic if this big leap of trust had come naturally instead of being forced by something he still did not fully understand.
"How do you think they found out?" he asked. "The Berserkers, I mean."
'I have no clue,' Toothless growled. 'I know the pack has been keeping up with the patrols as much as they could with so many of us gone, but maybe a scout ship slipped through or just caught sight of someone obviously patrolling and then took a wild guess?'
"Yeah, we did run them off from here before, when we freed Heather," Maour admitted. That was probably the reason the Berserkers were confident in their knowledge. Any suspicion cast on this island would only be confirmed by the very encounter that had started it all.
'If only we had just run them off,' Toothless grumbled mournfully.
"We would not have saved Heather if we did that," Maour objected. "We did the right thing."
'I meant after she got off the ship,' Toothless clarified. 'We could have made it look like a wild dragon had abducted and eaten her. I could have jumped out-'
"Revealing a Night Fury on the Isle, which would inevitably get back to Dagur and then probably Astrid," Maour countered.
'Or we could have just killed the Berserkers and sank the ship,' Toothless suggested darkly, looking out at the silhouette of the island in the distance. 'That would have saved Heather and not brought us to this. Eldurvatn would still be alive.'
"Yeah, he would," Maour sighed. "But that just wasn't how we did things." Now, though? If he could go back, he'd do that in a heartbeat. He wouldn't revel in the killing, that was for sure, but it would be more than justified to avert what was happening now.
But there was no going back, and he had to focus on seeing the pack through this fight, being one of the people everyone seemed to rely on for bridging the gap between human and dragon.
He looked down, spotting a dark bulk and a slim woman next to it standing at the prow of the lead Bog Burglar vessel. One of many ships.
'We are close,' Toothless huffed. 'Should we tell the leaders what they are approaching? We have kept them in the dark so far.'
"No point in spreading the news any faster than inevitable," Maour reminded him. They had waited until the allied fleet was out of sight of Mahelmetan to even point them in the right direction, thus preventing anyone not on the fleet from knowing anything. The word would spread regardless, but it would spread slower if the initial group of those who knew was curated as much as possible.
'But now we are almost there,' Toothless growled. 'Let's go tell Mogadon that he will lose his limbs, his pride, and then his life if he raises a finger toward our siblings.'
"We'll do it diplomatically, and not let him even see them if possible… But yes, let's do that," Maour conceded, spotting Toothless's protective instincts in play, and having no great fondness for the Chieftain who would bear the wrath of him acting on them.
"It's quite a wild place," Aldir observed, greeting Maour and Toothless with a respectful nod, turning away from the prow of the ship. "I see you are making the rounds. What do I need to know?"
'That while I do not dislike you as much as I do Mogadon, you will die if you take advantage of this knowledge,' Toothless snarled.
Aldir, to his credit, raised an eyebrow at the obviously hostile noise, and spread his hands, revealing no weapons. "I do not think I did anything to anger you," he said, addressing Toothless.
"Consider it a preemptive warning," Maour said unrepentantly. "We're not happy about having to do this."
"I would be lying if I said I was bothered by it," Aldir admitted. "It makes me feel that I am dealing with a tribe, not a group of dragons that might one day disappear on the horizon. You are… Tied to the land, I suppose is the best way to put it."
"We really like the land in question," Maour corrected. "If this goes South, we're not going to all die trying to keep it. But running isn't the answer to the problem facing us now, so we'll fight first."
"They would probably find you again, wherever you went," Aldir agreed. " Is there anything I or my people need to know about the island itself? If we stick to the plan there will be no fighting or even landing there, but in case the plan does not apply…"
"There's no wild game," Maour said shortly. "A few streams, a lot of greenery, but nothing to hunt and eat. The forest is dense and hard to navigate, and the mountain a warren of dangerous caves that might house dragons who will kill on sight, no questions asked and no regrets felt afterward. There is absolutely no reason for you to go anywhere near the caves." In truth, he was bluffing about the homicidal Furies; there would be nobody on the island by the time the fighting started, which was a whole other issue he and Toothless would soon be dealing with.
"Duly noted," Aldir responded. "With the aid of dragons and the tactics your friends have developed, there should be no need to land. Do you have anything else to bring to the fight? Any last-minute dragons kept in reserve, surprises held back for the moment of greatest need?"
'Why would he ask that?' Toothless murmured, sounding surprised.
"No," Maour said, shrugging his shoulders. "It's hard enough to even find dragons these days, and the closest ones I know of are too far and unlikely to want to help." He and Toothless had made a point of checking out all of the islands within a week's flight of the Isle, and none held more than a solitary pair or family of common types likely to be cut down in an instant anyway.
"Too bad," Aldir said, shaking his head. "Siege weaponry? Stolen Berserker ships?"
"We do have a couple of Berserker ships, actually," Maour recalled. They had been taken while he and the other riders were busy bringing the tribes to Mahelmetan. "But nobody to crew them, and nothing special on them."
"Worthless, then," Aldir sighed. "I cannot help thinking we are sailing to our doom, and while I do not fear death, I do rather dislike defeat." He smiled wryly.
'We are not that outnumbered,' Toothless grumbled. 'But siege weapons… Maour, can you make something?'
"Make something?" Maour repeated, thinking about it. "Not with how little time we have." Designing anything that actually worked was a process of testing and refining as much as actually creating in the first place, and while he might be able to make something in time for the battle, it almost certainly wouldn't work first try, and there would be no second try that mattered.
'Use something we already know how to make?' Toothless offered.
"The only big weapon I even know would be worthless for this," Maour admitted. "You know the one. It's great against dragons, but not so much against ships."
"If I might interrupt," Aldir said tactfully, "you are talking about siege weapons that work on dragons?"
"Yes, but that won't help here, and I don't have time to modify the design." It took him a long moment to figure out why Aldir seemed no less interested. "And I don't plan on making one afterward, either."
"I doubt payment is your objection," Aldir said, crossing his arms. "You have agreed that my island is beset by beasts that cannot be reasoned with. Ones you have a personal issue with. Why not?"
"I…" He paused, trying to think of a reason that was not invalidated by Aldir's specific circumstance. "Whatever I gave you would be copied, turned against other dragons in other places."
"Then make it so that it only works on Skrill," Aldir retorted. "If it is used against them elsewhere, so much the better."
'You could make it not so dangerous,' Toothless added pensively, as unsure as Maour was. 'But that defeats the purpose. Could you make it only work on them? I do not see a way.'
"Assuming I could do that," Maour said, "I would not make it a killing weapon. It would bring them out of the sky, no more." He had no idea how he would modify a bola launcher to only work on Skrill, but it didn't seem like an impossible task, just one he couldn't immediately solve.
"That is enough," Aldir said firmly. "More than enough. We can discuss the specifics if we both survive this fight."
"Sure," Maour agreed. He still wasn't sure he would do it, or what he wanted in return, but there was no harm in keeping the option open for later. He couldn't afford to be distracted by this right now, anyway. There were more immediate, important things afoot.
Maour nervously adjusted the leather sling across Cloey's chest, settling the straps in for what he knew had to be the tenth time. It didn't help that Cloey was just as nervous, shifting her weight every few moments, leaning from one paw to the next worriedly.
'Calm down, mom,' Von requested. 'Maour and Toothless are going to be watching him the whole way.' She ran her tail across her little brother's stubby wings and back, eliciting a grumbling squeak of content.
'That does not make me feel any better,' Cloey growled.
"No offense taken," Maour quipped, running his hands down inside the recently excavated sling. He had checked it for weaknesses already, over and over again in his need to be absolutely sure, but he was taking no chances.
'I meant none, you know I cannot help it,' Cloey huffed. 'Skuggi?' she asked, speaking to the air.
A moment later, she relaxed slightly, though it was barely visible underneath all of the tension she still carried like a weight on her back. 'He says the ship is ready for us,' she explained. 'And that there are no humans in sight.'
"They left it there this time," Maour confirmed. The ship would be minimally crewed when the time came to do this for real, but he was trying to ease Cloey into things, and it would soothe her nerves if there were no humans around in the practice run.
'Well,' Von said nervously, lightly resting a paw on Vern's back, 'I think we are ready. Should I go first, or you?'
'It is a short, simple flight, and the weather is perfect,' Cloey growled, either talking to herself or Skuggi. 'I will go first. Kappi?'
'Okay, up you go, Fora,' Toothless hummed, lifting his little sister by the loose scruff of her neck. He easily lowered her into the sling, tail first.
"Now the straps," Maour reminded him. He could do it himself, but the entire setup was designed to be doable without human participation.
'Easy,' Toothless said confidently, tugging at the two diagonal straps across the front of the sling. Fora chirped in surprise as the leather pouch closed mostly over her head, leaving a hole for breathing and not much else.
'I really do not like this,' Cloey barked, walking away. 'It feels stable, but still!'
"I know, none of us do," Maour said, doing his best to keep up with her as she all but ran to the exit of the cave.
They emerged into the dull, grey light of a cloudy afternoon, and Cloey immediately craned her neck to look down at the sling. 'Just relax,' she hummed, sounding anything but relaxed herself.
"Everything is still good," Maour confirmed, tugging on the straps one more time before backing away. "The sooner you fly to the ship, the sooner we can get her out-"
That was all Cloey needed to hear; she was up in the air so fast the displaced air from her wings knocked Maour back. He took it in stride, quickly returning to Toothless and taking to the air.
'All is well,' Toothless called up to Cloey, gliding in to fly directly under her. 'Maour, check on Fora?'
Maour looked up, standing in the saddle to reach, and pat the bottom of the satchel. A paw or wing bulged out and tried to hit him back. "Lively," he reported.
Cloey's response was to turn and fly for the single ship drifting off the shore of the island, left to serve as a practice target.
Maour was feeling some of the same anxiety affecting Cloey and, to a lesser extent Toothless, though his was based more in learned worry than instincts. Every moment the hatchlings spent in the air, by necessity exposed to the biting wind, was a risk. A short flight was far less of a risk, which was one of the reasons they would be using a boat when the time came to evacuate for real, but it was not safe. There were no safe paths out of this.
Cloey made it to the deck of the abandoned Bog Burglar ship without incident, touching down gently to avoid bouncing her daughter too roughly. She wasted no time in yanking at the straps holding Fora's sling shut, leaning over to roll her daughter out onto the deck and immediately drop on top of her, holding her close to check her temperature.
'She is not very cold,' Cloey said with a loud, heartfelt sigh of relief. 'It worked.'
'But she was a little cold?' Toothless asked worriedly.
'It is worse when she spends time crawling on my back,' Cloey explained. 'If I could be sure she would never grow any colder than that, I would not fear using this to take her anywhere.'
"She seems to like exploring," Maour observed. He could see a roving paw sticking out from Cloey's close embrace, scratching curiously at the deck. Fora mewled, annoyed at being restrained.
'It works,' Toothless grunted. 'So, no more worrying?'
'Next time, there will be others from outside the family, and humans,' Cloey growled. 'Prove to me that those problems have been handled, and I might be able to sleep tomorrow.'
"Follow me, then," Maour offered, dropping down to the deck. "When you land here for real, there will be humans, but only enough to crew the ship, and they all know to stay below deck whenever possible."
Cloey stood, gesturing for Toothless to take over in watching Fora, and followed Maour down the narrow deck of the ship, toward the squat cabin at the back.
"They'll sleep in here," he continued, slapping the side of the cabin. "If needed. It should not go that long, but…"
'Prepare for everything, as Skarpur likes to say,' Cloey agreed. 'Yes. Assuming all goes wrong, how does this work?'
"Four young, three families, and we need to keep them apart," Maour summarized. "Not to mention the ship being crewed. The humans get the front of the deck and the cabin. The Nótts have agreed to share those spaces, and sleep on top of the cabin." Joy was the only young one old enough to be around humans or other dragons without developing an instinctive desire to trust them, and whichever Nótt was selected to care for her would keep an eye on the crew.
'The Eldurs?' Cloey pressed, looking at the tiny patch of deck between the back of the cabin and the rear rail of the ship.
"They have agreed to be below deck,' Maour replied. The stipulation was that the hatch had to be open at all times, but that wouldn't be an issue. "Our family gets this spot."
'Two hatchlings and two of us here at all times?' Cloey huffed, pacing the small space. 'And these railings are no good. Fora or Vern might slip right off the ship!'
"I have some planks I can put up, and the idea is that one of you will lay against the rails," Maour said. "It's going to be a tight fit, I know, and out in the open, but if something terrible happens to this ship, you will have plenty of warning." If they were allocating space based solely on need, he would have the Svarturs below deck, but the Eldurs were more uptight, as impossible as that seemed, about exposing Vartha to anyone outside the family. Plus, and he could think of this without guilt because the Eldurs had been told and didn't consider it an issue, it was slightly harder to get out from below deck if something happened and the ship needed to be evacuated. He preferred his family take the spot behind the cabin, all things considered.
"And the Myrkur?" Cloey concluded.
"If he comes to the ship he'll sleep with the Nótts, but last I heard he was going to be participating in the fight without being directly involved." He could thank Myrkurheili and Fishlegs for that; they had come up with a plan for the youngest Myrkur that didn't involve him being sent away without contributing at all. Every available dragon, even if not directly fighting, was needed.
'Where are we going?' Cloey pressed. 'Skuggi does not remember, and wants me to ask,' she continued, hopping up onto the cabin roof and surveying the ship from her new perch.
"Straight to Bog Burglar territory, a safe island they've set up for waiting out search parties." He owed Camicazi for that; she had suggested it and then argued her mother into agreeing. It was several months sailing to get there, but having anywhere at all to go was an improvement.
'When are we leaving?' She leaped forward, out of sight, so Maour followed around to the front of the cabin, to find her pawing at the hatch leading down below deck. Toothless and Fora were playing with a pile of rope further down the deck.
He opened it for her as he spoke. "The moment we get a count of their ships." They knew exactly how many ships the Berserkers had thanks to a bored Myrkurheili repeatedly counting them while scouting out their island, and wouldn't be sending a vulnerable ship into a second front approaching from another angle if they could account for all of the ships from the start.
'Who is going?' Cloey stuck her head down into the hold, flinging her tail straight out behind her to counterbalance as she leaned in.
'Fora and Vern, you and Von. Joy and a Nótt, though I don't know which. Eldurmælikvarða and her mother."
'Skuggi says last he heard, Togi planned on sending Nóttreiði with Nótthljóður,' Cloey rumbled. She gave up on just looking and dropped down into the hold. 'I think that is wise.'
"It definitely is," Maour decided after giving it a moment's thought. No reason to risk a possibly unstable dragon in a fight when he was needed elsewhere, to do something he was probably much better at anyway.
'This is not a good cave,' Cloey declared, clambering up out of the hatch, apparently done with her inspection. 'I do not envy Ský. But it all seems good. No traps, no weapons, no dangers for a hatchling so long as he or she does not fall off the ship entirely, or get into trouble with the humans.'
"Glad to hear you approve," Maour said. He was even more glad to hear the instinct-fueled anxiety fading from her voice. It was not gone, but he hadn't expected any amount of planning or security precautions to accomplish that.
'So much so that I have changed the plan,' Cloey announced. 'Von and Skuggi will take Fora and Vern. I am a more skilled fighter than Skuggi, and now I do not feel I have to be here myself to keep them safe.'
'Really?' Toothless interrupted, looking up from Fora, who had managed to ascend the pile of now tangled rope and was busy digging her tiny claws into it as thoroughly as she could. 'I mean I did not think you would be able to do that.'
'If there is any time to fight my instincts it is now, and I do not even have to,' she declared. 'This is not perfect, but it is good enough that I trust my mate and daughter to take care of the rest. I will fight.'
"Welcome to the Night Fury armada then, Mom," Maour quipped. "You know the plan, right?"
'You might have to get me up to speed on the details, but yes,' Cloey hummed. 'Later. Let's get Fora home and bring Von out.'
'And then Fishlegs can bring the Eldurs, and then the Nótts, and then the Bog Burglars take the ship back until it is time,' Toothless huffed. 'One less thing for us to do.'
"One less on a list of dozens," Maour agreed. He felt much better having begun this particular set of preparations, though. Whatever happened, his family would not fall if the island did.
"I gotta say," Ruffnut yelled, swinging past Einfari on Boom, "this is the most depressing reunion ever!"
'We can make it more exciting…' Blast flew up behind her. Tuffnut stood in the saddle and leaped across, punched his sister in the back and then jumped off again.
'I have to admit,' Einfari remarked as Blast caught Tuffnut by his ankles and threw him back into the air to catch properly, 'they can do some pretty insane stunts when they try.'
"And we are not going to try anything like that," Heather said firmly.
'Not yet,' Einfari countered. She fully intended to push Heather and herself to keep up with the others, no matter how crazy they got. It would just take some time and some subtle manipulation to get Heather comfortable with freefalling and other more risky activities.
'How is this a reunion?' Berg asked. 'We have all been here before.'
"Heather's been gone bossing idiots around, Maour and Fishlegs are always busy, and we try to avoid you all when you're being too serious," Ruffnut explained. "This is the first time all of us riders have been together in weeks!"
'And it's only to be lectured,' Boom dramatically sighed. 'So boring.'
'You are not here to be lectured,' Toothless huffed. 'Much.'
'See!' Blast cried out, diving away from the group. Einfari pointedly ignored him and continued to fly at a more reasonable pace within easy speaking distance of Toothless and Berg.
'I always forget how they are if I do not see them for a while,' Toothless grumbled. 'This is important, I wish they would focus.'
Einfari agreed with that sentiment, but it wasn't something she had expected to hear from Toothless. He sounded far too worried and stressed for her liking, and Maour's silence so far hinted at similar feelings.
But, she reasoned, if there was any time to be worried and stressed, it would be now. The final calm before the storm.
'Myrkurs,' she called out to the now bickering duo, 'Get up here or we will tie you up and leave you on the island when it is time to fight.'
Two intentionally misaimed shots blasted up to either side of her, detonating in the night sky with simultaneous flashes of light.
'You have our attention for as long as it takes to see something more exciting,' Boom said sullenly. 'And only because we think you might actually try that, because you hate fun.'
"Have all the fun you want after we get through this," Maour announced, speaking for the first time since they had met in the sky above the island. "First, you should know the odds."
'Which are?' Berg asked worriedly. 'I know we did some damage, but not enough to make this an even fight.'
"According to Myrkurheili," Tuffnut volunteered, "they have sixty-eight ships. Maybe more, he was muttering about being one off from a joke, but then Myrkurhryðjuverk hit him so hard he was seeing triple for a while, so he didn't tell us any more than that."
"That's about right," Maour agreed. "They lost some, but not nearly enough. A good portion of those ships are scorched, damaged, or otherwise in less than perfect shape, but that's how many they have seaworthy. Our allied fleet only breaks forty if we include the supply ships, which we shouldn't."
"But we have more than a dozen Night Furies," Fishlegs said hopefully. "And a lot of good plans. So we'll win, right?"
"If we do everything right and nothing goes wrong, we definitely will," Maour promised. "And you all know exactly what you'll be doing?"
'We do,' Einfari said, joining the chorus of confirmations. She was glad to see that not even the Myrkurs needed a reminder. Her mother had beaten it into their heads, literally in a few cases, but one could never be sure with them.
'Good,' Toothless hummed. 'Now, on to something you might not know. Dagur and Astrid.'
"What about them?" Tuffnut asked. "We see them, we challenge them to glorious combat, and then whichever of us didn't run into them first sneaks up and stabs them from behind." He mimed a stabbing motion.
"You're exactly right," Heather said, surprising the twins. "Don't underestimate either of them, and don't fight fair. Go for the kill, not the capture."
'Because,' Toothless continued for her, 'Apparently if we capture them we cannot kill them later.'
'What?' Berg exclaimed. 'But then we cannot be sure this will not happen again! They killed Vatn, why should we hold back?' He snarled angrily.
Einfari wasn't surprised to see Berg mad about that; she had been spitting fire for a whole night after hearing about that particular wrinkle in the plan. It was stupidity at its most destructive.
'As far as I understand it,' Toothless growled, 'we cannot because our Viking allies would keep them prisoner, and there are unspoken rules to dealing with captive enemies. They would ransom Dagur back to his people for profit, and Astrid would at best be kept captive for another ransom later, if Dagur regained power.'
"The idea is that they all have families and leaders of their own," Maour clarified. "They won't execute a Chieftain or the wife of one, because then every tribe that heard of it would, at best, have no problem doing the same if the opportunity later arose."
'But they killed one of our own!' Bang said. 'We can't kill them for that?'
'Not out of battle, so if you get a chance, take it,' Toothless said firmly. 'Do not spare them. Taking them captive would not be the end of the world, but it is not ideal, either.'
'What's your take on this, Maour?' Ruffnut inquired, leaning over to wave a hand in front of his face. 'Awake in there?'
"I find it ironic that now, of all times, Vikings are choosing to go for the nonviolent option," Maour admitted bitterly. "But it won't come to that. They brought war to our home. They brought war to our families. We're not taking them prisoner if it's up to us." There was a rock-hard coldness to his voice that Einfari found more than adequate. By the standards of any Nótt, Maour usually straddled the line between dangerously optimistic and adequately cautious, but not on this particular issue.
"I'd drink to that if we had mead," Ruffnut proclaimed. "Heather, did you bring any back?"
"No," Heather said shortly.
"We can nick some from the Meatheads later," Tuffnut offered. "Maybe get Camicazi in on it."
"It's a plan," Ruffnut cheered. "Okay, are we done here?"
'Yes,' Toothless said. 'You have a night or two before the enemy might show up, so enjoy this while it lasts.'
"It'll last," Tuffnut said seriously. "Why else would we be fighting? We're keeping this place all to ourselves, no Berserkers allowed!"
"We won't run, either," Ruffnut agreed. "Because this island is worth killing for!"
'And because they would just find us again eventually,' Berg reminded her.
'Don't spoil her dramatic declaration of murderous intent,' Boom huffed, dropping down out of the group. Blast and Berg soon followed, leaving Toothless and Einfari alone in the air with their riders.
"You know," Heather said quietly, "If this goes the way it's been planned, Dagur and Astrid will probably just drown after we sink their ships."
"When have we ever been that lucky?" Maour asked rhetorically.
"If we capture a Night Fury," Astrid said firmly, "I want its throat slit and the body left in the hold, untouched."
"Oh, don't worry," Dagur said, a wide grin on his face. "We'll have plenty of raw material to work with after this."
"I want it untouched," Astrid repeated. "Not like this one was."
"Eh, I guess it could be better," Dagur agreed, looking down on the mangled, piecemeal remains of the corpse lying in the hold of their ship. "But I got what I wanted from it."
A deep rumble interrupted his musing, and he laughed wildly, ascending from the hold, Astrid right behind him. The weight on his head and shoulders was annoying, but only when he forgot what it was.
He stood at the prow of his strongest, most well-armed ship, and bid farewell to Astrid as she left, off to her own command ship. The volcano rumbled even more insistently, shaking the island and generating tiny waves that fled from the stone, clashing with the tide on the way out.
The ash cloud was thicker as of late. He waved a hand in front of his face, wondering whether it was day or night. There was no way to tell.
His new helmet slipped down, so he pushed it back up. It wasn't balanced properly. He'd have someone fix that on the way.
"Sir," Savage said, "I've just received the final reports. All is ready."
"And so am I," Dagur said happily. "Blow the horn!"
The order was relayed, and a loud horn was blown, blasting the order to advance throughout the smog. The volcano rumbled as if to add to the noise.
They were on their way to a final battle and more Night Fury corpses. The only thing that could make this departure more monumental would be the volcano exploding as they departed…
Dagur turned around and watched the mountain until it disappeared in the smog, but nothing happened.
"Can't have everything," he sighed. "Savage, assemble the men on deck for a gear inspection." He would have everything perfect for the final assault, and if his men were anything less than perfect, he'd work out some of his bloodlust too.