Author's Note (Yep, Another One): If you're reading this after 6/24/11, then the sum total of this note is essentially blah, blah, blah. Skip it.

Next week I'll be going on (gasp) a vacation. Someplace coastal and away from an Internet access. So there will be no update next Friday. I may decide to do the update on the following Monday (6/20/11), but it depends on how much writing I get done next week. If nothing shows up on that date, then expect my usual update on 6/24/11. After that, for the rest of the summer I should be back to a once-a-week thing again.

Onwards.

Chapter Seven: Standards

It was impossible for Astrid to miss the skele-dragon flight taking wing, considering the deluge of alien screeches and splashing and other frenetic sounds coming from the sea. She'd been in the middle of an attack run when she heard the commotion, her mouth dropping upon the sight of Hiccup and Toothless surrounded by a dozen airborne horrors.

She didn't have time to consider all the implications of the skele-dragons' arrival or why they were going after Hiccup. There was no hesitation – there never was when it came to Hiccup. She whirled Beatrix around and headed straight in to engage, but she wouldn't be there quickly enough. For some reason Hiccup had flown off on his own over the ocean. At her best speed she needed half-a-minute to reach him.

"Everyone on me!" she yelled, her left arm signaling for the others to join formation. And they came as fast as they could, Snotlout gliding Fenrir alongside her with Fishlegs and the twins not far behind.

Snotlout gaped at the unfolding spectacle ahead of him and said, "Okay, I officially believe you guys now."

"You didn't before?" shot back Astrid.

"Well, not one-hundred percent. I mean, c'mon, flying bones?"

"So you didn't say anything because…"

"I was trying to be supportive?" Snotlout sheepishly offered.

"Alright, live targets!" shouted Tuffnut as his Zippleback caught up to Astrid's other flank.

"I think they're dead," replied Ruffnut.

"Yeah, 'dead targets' doesn't have the same ring," he rebutted.

"Am I the only one freaking out right now?" shouted Fishlegs, pulling Chomps even with Fenrir. "Those things have to be breaking at least fifteen laws of physics just by existing."

"Everyone, focus!" demanded Astrid. Toothless was retreating out to sea and taking half the undead flyers with him. The other half was coming at her and the squad. Toothless was outnumbered six to one – he needed the most help. Hopefully the others could handle the incoming assailants while she assisted Hiccup and Toothless.

But then the first several opening shots flew by, balls of black flame as dark as the midnight sky. The squad's professional cohesion lasted a total of five seconds before the others were banking off or diving away without signaling their intentions or picking targets. Snotlout did the best, chasing after one skele-dragon while another one tailed him. Fishlegs panicked as his Gronckle spun around in a desperate circle to shake off a very persistent skele-dragon. Ruff and Tuff were split on which of the two skele-dragons harassing them they should take out first, their Zippleback going evasive but getting smacked once in the tail with a glancing bolt. Hearing both heads screech in pain simultaneously did not produce a good experience.

Astrid held on tight to her mount's reigns as Beatrix twisted to evade an incoming bolt, corrected, and then coated the monster's bony head with streaming flames as they passed one another. The bone-dragon broke off its attack and was quickly consumed by the fiery assault, crashing to the ground and breaking apart.

Astrid had a clear path to Hiccup, but her friends were all in trouble. From her vantage point, it looked like Toothless was handling things, already sending one of the skele-dragons into the ocean. The others needed her right now, and she was Second-in-Command after all. She couldn't abandon them.

Hoping she wasn't underestimating the threat to Toothless, she had Beatrix pursue Snotlout's tailing adversary, mostly because Snotlout was so intent on having Fenrir roast the skele-dragon he was chasing that he wasn't watching his rear. She kept him from being blackened alive with a precise shot to the thing's spine that nearly cut it in two, right about the same time Fenrir scored a hit on his own target, burning off one of its legs.

"Yeah, that's what I'm call cookin' with fire," shouted Snotlout as Fenrir finished off the monster with two more fire-streams, still not bothering to notice the flaming remains of his pursuer slowly plummeting to the rocks below him.

Fishlegs had somehow dealt with his own threat, so Astrid went to the twins' aid. Remarkably, they already had the situation in hand.

"Will you trust me for once?" Tuffnut yelled at his sister. "It'll work."

"Not trusting your judgment has kept me alive this long," replied Ruffnut, "but I'm out of better ideas."

"Just wait for my signal," said Tuffnut. "Here they come."

The two pursuing skele-dragons were coming at the Zippleback together, the two-headed dragon opting to hover in place rather than escape. The skele-dragons knew easy prey when they saw it, and they barreled in like eagles after a catatonic hare.

Tuff unleashed his dragonhead's combustion gas, sending a potent spray of yellowish-green mist straight ahead and into the path of the two incoming monsters. He kept up the streaming until the creatures were almost on top of them, flying right through the flammable vapors.

"Now!"

For a change, there was no argument. Ruffnut swung her dragonhead over and sparked the gaseous stream, sending a torrent of lively flame flowing through the gas cloud. Both skele-dragons were enveloped immediately, protesting with their fading screams as they smoked and fell from the sky.

"Okay, that was cool," admitted Ruffnut, her brother smiling smugly and relishing her words.

Relieved that her friends were unhurt, Astrid sent Beatrix after Toothless and the other skele-dragons. They were too far out now for Astrid to see what was happening, but the fact that Toothless hadn't turned back toward the coast by now worried her. She asked Beatrix to fly as fast as possible, and the Nadder obeyed as best she could. But they were still a ways off and barely closing.

As Snotlout and the twins took off after Astrid, Fishlegs was still lagging behind as Chomps landed for a moment to rest from his ordeal. The oversized youth was dying to tell the others about his narrow escape, since none of them had apparently seen it during the battle.

Chomps had done his best to outmaneuver the skele-dragon, but Gronckles were not good at aerial combat. They were more ground-to-air assaulters, and poor Chomps was too busy steering clear of the ebony fireballs to shoot back. Chomps ducked and weaved, using his hovering skills to stay out of the line of fire, but he was too slow by comparison.

Then came a grim moment when the skele-dragon charged in at Fishlegs, its cavernous jaw wide and aiming to rip him from his saddle. Fishlegs almost decided to jump and risk busting every bone in his body on the rocks rather than get savaged. But then something blew by him, his helmet sailing off his head from the rush of air as it passed, and diverted the bony dragon's attention long enough to allow Chomps to get away.

It was a weird-looking distortion thing that had gone by, barely discernible from the sky and clouds behind it. Then the distortion fell away and another dragon appeared in its place, a dark-green creature that Fishlegs recognized as the dragon from Hiccup's sketches of his Mainland battle. It didn't stop to say hi, but it did stretch out a clawed hand toward the skele-dragon, firing off a powerful lightning bolt from its palm. Fishlegs's ears were still ringing from the thunderous attack that turned the skele-dragon's skull into lots of scattering and smoldering bone pebbles.

"Green Lightning!" cheered Fishlegs, holding up his arms as he yelled the name. And while the dragon disappeared as quickly as it came, melding back into a fuzzy-clear shape and speeding off toward the ocean, it left two final impressions in Fishlegs's mind.

One – it was carrying something in its other claw-hand, something that resembled a person.

Two – the dragon had glanced back at Fishlegs as he shouted his chosen nickname for it, and he swore that it looked unmistakably irritated.

"Green Lightning?"

Any other time, Nestor would have been having a field day at Arc's expense. Nothing got under the dragon's scales more than cutesy name-calling, the dragon already repeating the name several times, his tone increasing with annoyance with each utterance. But Nestor was too furious with Arc to enjoy the moment, and too distressed for Hiccup's sake to worry about anything but what was coming next.

As usual, he wasn't looking forward to it.

Shielding his eyes against the emerging glare of the sun and the biting cold of the rushing Atlantic air, Nestor spotted the half-submerged black dragon on the surface of the ocean, covered in Cervantes's corrupted bone servants. He estimated how soon he'd be over Hiccup's position. He guessed a minute, give or take a second.

Consternation over inane nicknames aside, Arc's mind was singularly focused now. He had sped by the other dragon riders and the skele-dragons with barely a thought to their welfare. Nestor had insisted that Arc intervene with the Gronckle rider's situation, since he appeared to be in a bad spot at the time. Otherwise he wasn't going to follow Arc's plan – he'd save Hiccup in his own fashion.

Arc's streamlined form made him one of the faster dragon species in the air, but he couldn't match a Night Fury for speed. Thankfully (or not, depending on how you looked at it), Toothless had been forced to slow down considerably. Hopefully Hiccup was still alive – Cervantes was not cruel without purpose, but he could be plenty cruel when he desired it.

"Fifteen seconds," shouted Nestor, keeping time for the dragon. Arc descended in altitude until they were flying just above the waves, Nestor feeling tiny droplets of ocean spray begin to saturate him.

"Remember, you only have a few seconds to pull this off," cautioned Arc. "Do not hesitate, no matter what state Young Hiccup and his dragon are in."

Nestor bit back the reply he wanted to say. The only reason why he was going along with this was because it was also the quickest way to save Hiccup and his dragon. So he kept his mouth shut about it. But after this, guaranteed, there would be words aplenty.

"Taking care of it," said Nestor. "I just hope your aim is better than last timmMMEEE!"

Arc pulled upward and released Nestor, flinging the now-visible young man through the air with graceful precision as Nestor yelled his parting words. He needn't have worried, as Arc's throw was true and the fall was mercifully short.

Now came the hard part.

Hiccup felt his friend's struggles beginning to slow as his air supply grew low. His hope that Toothless might find a way to break free, or that rescue was coming, was proving groundless. All the while, the cruel face of Cervantes stared at him and patiently waited for Hiccup to start spilling his guts. The calm certainty on his face was worse than the toothy grin on a starving Nightmare.

He really didn't have a choice, did he? Hiccup was sitting on top of his drowning friend, the water lapping at his legs as if taunting him, and he was helpless to intervene. But he didn't trust Cervantes to spare him and Toothless – he had to test his captor before divulging anything.

"Okay, I'll tell you what you want," he said quietly but frantically. "But let him breathe first."

Cervantes appeared to mull it over, then shrugged. "A reasonable request."

Hiccup felt the bone cage vibrate as it shifted slightly, Toothless's head popping out of the ocean seconds later and greedily taking in the air, his panicked struggles fading. Hiccup sighed with relief, though it was tempered by the sunken eyes that continued to stare at him with expectation.

"I can easily shift the bones back," said Cervantes. "Now, I really do hate repeating myself…"

A quick burst of orange light filled the air just as something whammed into the top of the bone cage, interrupting Cervantes and caving in part of the cage's ceiling. Hiccup looked up and was extremely, pleasantly surprised to see Nestor already rolling off the top and onto the front of the structure, gripping the cage with one hand and cocking back his right arm. His fist glowing a violent orange that sparked tiny flecks of crimson, he rammed it through the cage, snapping bones into splinters and grabbing the little dragon skull that was silently floating behind its master's visage. He then yanked the skull out of the cage and held it against his chest as if it was a treasured keepsake.

"The prodigal lackey returns," chided Cervantes, his illusory face still floating before Hiccup but now faced towards Nestor. "I trust Archibald is still recovering from our last encountSQWAAAKKKKK…"

Cervantes's image first began to warp, then fade, then disappeared entirely as Nestor's entire body glowed orange. The dragon skull attempted to leap out of Nestor's hand as its dark aura began colliding with Nestor's glow, a tug of war between the two color schemes playing out before Hiccup's bewildered eyes.

"Incessant talker, Cervantes," commented Nestor as he gritted his teeth and kept the skull pinned to his body, the skull writhing and squirming in his arm.

"What's going on here, exactly?" asked Hiccup, now noticing the increasing vibration in the bones all around him, wiggling in tandem with the skull's struggles. It was almost like they were responding to its distress.

"I'm disrupting the skull's mystical conduit with my barrier field," said Nestor in an absent fashion.

"I see," said Hiccup, a blank look on his face. "Thanks for explaining that."

"Explanations later… AHH!" cried out Nestor, Hiccup joining him a second later, as the bone cage lifted off from the water, dragging the still-imprisoned Toothless out of the ocean. The cage began to accelerate as it veered off to the right, the bones that composed it rattling and vibrating and threatening to fly apart at any moment.

Then the cage began to roll over, Toothless protesting loudly as he was slowly flipped around again and again, the skele-dragon cage out of control and speeding up at the same time. Nestor clung to the cage with his legs and free hand, still grappling with the evil little skull. Hiccup tried kicking out with his right foot against the cage, hoping to weaken the convulsing bones at one of their joints, but they stubbornly held together. Whatever power kept the bones animated hadn't given up the fight yet.

The slow barrel-rolling flight went on for an agonizingly long time. Hiccup could barely see past Nestor and the constant rolling wasn't helpful for getting one's bearings. Usually during times of heavy aeronautic acrobatics Hiccup trusted Toothless not to fly them into the ground, but Toothless wasn't in control right now. No one was.

Then he spotted their destination – a series of tall rock formations sprouting out of the ocean commonly known as Thor's Fingers. Hiccup's first true flight with Toothless had nearly ended with them splattered against those towering rocks. It looked like the rocks were going to get another chance, as the careening bone cage was headed right for them. One solid-looking candidate was approaching rapidly, Toothless desperately trying to turn them or even halt their rolling but powerless to do either.

"Nestor, we're about to die here!" yelled Hiccup, the rocky monolith looming large in front of them.

Right then and there, the mystical tug-of-war came to a conclusion. The dark aura surrounding the dragon skull abruptly retreated inward, the living blackness of its eyes shrinking to pinpoints within their sockets. Nestor's field barrier stabilized and disappeared from sight, Nestor relaxing for the brief second it took him to turn about and spot the oncoming wall of rock.

The bone cage stopped quivering and started collapsing, the edges separating and sliding off Toothless, the obscene dragon skulls popping off and tumbling to the sea. Toothless no longer had any resistance pitted against him and he immediately banked hard to the right. Hiccup crossed his fingers as he compensated with his rudder control while bones cascaded down around him.

There was a horrible grating screech as the remaining bones on Toothless's underbelly scraped across the stone pillar, Toothless barely holding the turn in place. A chalky line of crushed calcium smeared the rock as they cleared it… or nearly cleared it.

There was a sudden lurch as Toothless careened against a small, jutting knob of stone, the dragon smashing through it while yowling in pain. His left wing dipped too far over and clipped the tower right before they were finally past it, knocking him out of control and sending the remaining parts of the clinging bone cage scattering into the air.

With his original handhold disintegrating, Nestor grabbed hold of Toothless's neck right in front of Hiccup, hanging onto the wounded dragon with one arm. Trying to keep a clear head, Hiccup switched the rudder to a landing configuration and hoped Toothless wasn't too dazed to pull off a water landing. That was their best option right now, because their out-of-control sightseeing tour had taken them back to the coastline and the softest thing on the shore was gravel.

The mighty dragon managed to straighten up just as he impacted the ocean surface, skimming it at first and then plowing a wake though the bluish-green brine as they decelerated. Nestor was knocked loose and went flying ahead, his body flashing orange as he collided against one of the breakers ringing the shore. Hiccup held his breath as their speed dwindled, releasing it only when the ride had come to a calm end and the only motion was the gentle waves pushing against them.

Toothless could touch bottom here and he managed to limp him and Hiccup over to the shore before collapsing to the pebbled ground. Hiccup immediately dismounted and tried to pull Toothless further up the shore, but the injured dragon was in too much pain to stand. He was rolled over on his right flank, his left front leg curled up underneath him.

"Toothless, let me see it," said Hiccup, and his friend tentatively extended the limb a few inches. Hiccup tenderly inspected it, bent scales and dripping blood suggesting a serious injury. It didn't look broken, thank the Gods, but it looked bad nonetheless.

"Okay, pal, you just rest," soothed Hiccup, sitting down next to his hurt friend. "Help's going to be here soon." Or so he hoped, as he didn't know what had happened with his friends back down the coast. Thankfully he didn't spend much time in ignorance as he spotted an airborne dragon form some distance to the west. A Nadder profile, which hopefully meant Astrid.

Hiccup almost freaked when he heard splashing behind him, expecting another skele-dragon to show up. Again, thankfully, it was Nestor pulling himself out of the waves and looking pretty good for having just played the part of a human catapult round. He groaned unhappily and sat down next to Hiccup, his left hand brandishing the little dragon skull. Nestor gave it a look-over, grimacing at it but then nodding his head as if satisfied with its condition, and then tucked it under his left arm once more.

"That thing?" said Hiccup, pointing at the skull. "That was responsible for all those undead reptiles?"

"Hardly," said Nestor. "But it does contain a fragment of Cervantes's essence, which links him from afar to his… creations. It allows him to control his abominations from a good distance away. The guy doesn't like to dirty his own hands. I had to subdue it before Cervantes ordered it to self-destruct. That wouldn't have been pleasant."

"Cervantes," said Hiccup, hating the name as he spoke it. "I'm guessing he's one of the reasons why you guys are out here."

Nestor nodded. Then he got a good look at Toothless's leg and his face became crestfallen. "How bad?"

"I don't know," replied Hiccup. "You wouldn't be a skilled healer by chance?"

Nestor shook his head and stared off toward the ocean, that guilty look his eyes remaining. Hiccup almost brushed it off as misplaced guilt over not saving Toothless from injury, but then he thought about it a bit more. Nestor's ability to show up at the right time was becoming way too convenient, and he couldn't have gotten out to sea unless Arc had airlifted him. So that meant Arc had to be around – why didn't the dragon come to their aid?

This no longer felt like a noble rescue attempt.

"Not to sound ungrateful," said Hiccup, "but were you saving us… or that thing under your arm?"

Nestor's answer was silence for a time and Hiccup expected the matter to go the way of all his previous conversations with the man. But then Nestor's eyes narrowed, guilt twisting into anger, and he looked at Hiccup with a sudden intensity that startled Hiccup into forgetting his next question.

"This shouldn't have happened," stated Nestor, slowly standing up. "None of this. I can't take back what has occurred, can't heal your dragon's wounds… but I can help you survive what comes next."

"What comes next?" said Hiccup, standing up as well. He didn't like where this conversation was going. "Hasn't enough happened already?"

"For you, I doubt it," said Nestor. "I thought ignorance could be your shield, but whether it's by my Fates or your Gods, we're stuck in this battle together."

Nestor then closed the distance between him and Hiccup and put his mouth next to Hiccup's ear, his voice a whisper. "You'll need to know what I know, Hiccup. When you're ready, come seek me out. You know where to find me."

Nestor didn't give Hiccup a chance to respond. He ran off the moment he finished speaking, the legs glowing orange again as he fled down the coast. Two heartbeats later, a watery distortion swooped in from the sky and surrounded him, Nestor fading into the heart of the distortion. Then it lifted off again and flew towards the east, disappearing behind a coastal cliff and leaving Hiccup's mind whirling once more.

Astrid arrived mere moments behind Nestor's departure, parking Beatrix nearby and running over to Hiccup and the injured Toothless. Greatly relieved to see Hiccup with the same number of limbs as before, she impulsively hugged him when she got near. Hiccup took comfort in her embrace, his mind too concerned with Toothless and other dilemmas to be thrilled over Astrid's kinder, gentler greeting.

"How is he?" she asked, looking at Toothless and grimacing at his leg.

"In pain," he replied. "We need to get…"

"Already on it," she said. "I signaled the twins to go back to Berk. Good thing, too – I think their Zippleback was injured."

"They're all okay?"

"They actually did fine against those things… well, after a rough start. We might have a squad after all."

Hiccup walked over to Toothless and patted the dragon's head, trying to give him some reassurance. Toothless accepted the affection, groaning softly from his aching foot. Hiccup did feel a measure of satisfaction about his squad's performance, though it did little against the mountain of weightier matters upon him. He wasn't even sure what to tell Astrid at this…

"I saw him talking to you," said Astrid, interrupting his thoughts with a stern glare. "Nestor – he ran off and disappeared right as I was landing. And you didn't seem shocked to see him."

Hiccup sighed under his breath. Was he really that surprised? Astrid had been the only one to sniff out his Toothless-sized secret two years ago, and that was back when she didn't know Hiccup all that well. He wasn't even disappointed – part of him hated lying to her and wanted her in on this, even if that made things dangerous for her as well.

The other part of him didn't want her anywhere near this conflict, especially not after today.

"They're on the island, Astrid," he confessed.

"They?" she replied.

"The green dragon as well. They're… uh, partners."

"Like you and Toothless?"

"Not quite."

"How long have you known?"

Hiccup gave her a sheepish look. "Yesterday?"

"Son of a…!" Astrid's considerable temper reared its head, her fists balling up as she paced and swore for several loud seconds. When she calmed down, she said, "It's a good thing Toothless needs you right now or else I'd be adding some more bruises to your shoulder!"

"This isn't like last time, Astrid," Hiccup tried to explain.

"It's still lying, Hiccup!"

"For your sake. For the village's sake."

"I can handle the truth, Hiccup. I was there with you on the Mainland, remember?"

"Yes, but you're not a target," said Hiccup. "Not like me."

That managed to calm down Astrid, though her eyes were still filled with disapproval. "What do you mean?"

"They were after me, Astrid. Not you guys, not even Toothless – just me."

"Why you?"

"I don't really want to tell you. They might come after you, too"

"I can take care of myself, Hiccup!" Astrid angrily stated. "And if you think I'm going to sit back and watch a bunch of living nightmares cart you off to the afterlife, then you're the stupidest…"

"Alright, alright!" Hiccup hastily said. "But let's save the story until after we get Toothless back home. And please don't say anything to anyone until I get some answers from Nestor."

Astrid's stewing disposition dimmed back to a simmer and she consented. "Hiccup, I thought we were past this routine," she added. "I thought you could trust me."

"I do trust you, Astrid," he replied. "I trust you with my life. But look what happened." He patted Toothless again. "He was lucky to survive this. I don't want anyone else hurt on my behalf, especially you."

Astrid chuffed and put on an air of bravado. "I wasn't planning on getting hurt, Hiccup. And the only ones that will get hurt are those things if they come near you again. Understand?"

Yes, he understood. He only wished he could believe it.

"Did you use him as bait?"

Nestor's accusation cut across the otherwise tranquil clearing, Arc resting his hindquarters on a patch of grass while Nestor ranted away in front of him. Their camping cave was close by but they had no need to return to it. Nestor had secured the required object, though he had yet to give it to Arc as the dragon requested.

Nestor held the little dragon skull under his arm, his bargaining chip for the answers he wanted. He knew that as soon as Arc had the skull he'd be out and flying away immediately, so this was the one chance he had to force a confession.

"We will discuss this later," said Arc, almost a demand but lacking any force behind it.

"No, answer me!" Nestor insisted.

"Bait implies a trap. I merely set the stage for a possible showdown."

"You turned that boy into a beacon!" shot back Nestor. "I figured it out. That little show-off stunt from yesterday, your static-charge blast – you deliberately marked him. Did you know he was being monitored?"

"I suspected," replied Arc. "Hiccup and his dragon delivered a sound thrashing to Cervantes's abomination and thwarted his trap. It was unlikely that the necromancer would just let the matter drop. If I was wrong, then the boy would have been just fine. If I was right, then we'd have the perfect opportunity to lure out Cervantes, and we'd ensure that no harm came to your friend."

"Lure him out? What happened to your carefully planned out search pattern?"

"It was proving fruitless. Now, we have a lead." Arc held out an expectant claw-hand at Nestor, palm up. Nestor didn't move to fill it.

"Are we on this island because of Hiccup?" Nestor asked. "Did you know he was here already? Did we come here because you suspected Cervantes would keep tabs on him?'

"We came here because this island is the closest thing to livable in this heat-forsaken region," shot back Arc. "Hiccup's presence was fortuitous, but I did not plan on marking him until you two stumbled into one another again."

Nestor looked at Arc as if his friend had morphed into a complete stranger. "For the last week, every other sentence out of you towards me has been composed of a noun, a verb, and 'you screwed up at Tempest Point.' Why? Because we don't endanger the innocent. You taught me that no matter how rough the path gets, that's our standard. But I guess standards don't apply in regards to Cervantes, do they?"

Arc narrowed his eyes, in no way moved by Nestor's condemnation. "Do you not understand the gravity of the situation, Nestor? Cervantes has been sending an army's worth of corrupted bone against us. He's throwing everything he has at us. He's been patient up until now, through most of the long years I have dealt with him. If he's willing to engage us so violently and publicly, then he is very close to his goal. He cannot be allowed to achieve it. I suspect that the only thing holding him back now is that we possess what he requires. If that means we take risks to stop him, we do so."

"Yes, we take risks. We don't drag others into our war."

"Hiccup was already in this, Nestor. He was dragged in the moment he encountered you at Tempest Point. You just refuse to see it."

"My fault, right? I wondered how'd you get in one more jab. You arrogant…" Nestor was fed up, not even bothering to finish his insult. He took the dragon skull and tossed it over to Arc, who nimbly caught it between two claws.

"Cervantes has always brought out the worst in you," remarked Nestor, stepping back to a dried-out log and sitting down. "But you had limits once upon a time."

The dragon brought the little skull up to the level of his eyes and mouthed a few syllables that sounded more like a series of wolf howls than a language. The skull's sockets filled up again with pulsating blackness, the skull futilely wiggling between Arc's entrapping claws.

"You're mine now," Arc said to the skull. "You will lead me to your master." Arc then released the skull, which floated in place and didn't try to escape. It quivered, as if struggling to break free of Arc's control, but it obeyed just the same.

Arc turned back to Nestor, his reptilian face unreadable except for a tiny speck of something in his eye. Regret? Remorse? Sadness? Nestor couldn't place it. When Arc wished to be inscrutable, he succeeded all too well.

"The conduit is weak, but I can still read it," he said. "I will follow the trail as far as needed. I will return no later than four days from now. I trust you to mind the cave while I'm out." He spread his wings and made to take off, but then twisted his long neck back towards Nestor and added, "We will continue this discussion when I return."

Nestor watched Arc gently lift off with the dragon skull in tow, Shrouding as he flew out toward the northern sea. Nestor had been left in the dust on many occasions, and each time he had always wished for his friend's quick return. This time out, he honestly couldn't care. If this crusade against Cervantes hadn't already ruined Arc, then it would before it was over.

"Take you time, old man," he quietly said to the fading distortion in the distance.

Stoic stirred the smoking bone pile with the head of his war hammer, trying to provoke a reaction, any reaction. But the only thing the bones were willing to do was smolder. He was disappointed to have missed a battle occurring right in his backyard, having had no real chance to get physical on anything bigger than a spider in the last few months. Far more distressing was the fact that this was the second time in the last two weeks that his son had seen battle – his son, who still apologized to every fish he took a bite of.

There were several of the devil-empowered bone piles littering the coast, the remains of the skele-dragons Hiccup's Dragon Squad defeated earlier. A dozen other Vikings were combing the area or out on scouting flights, making sure there weren't any further threats to his son or to Berk. Stoic had felt the need to come see the evidence of the battle personally, though he opted to jog out on his own.

"This is what I get for minding my shop for a day," said Gobber, who was also poking the same bone pile with his hook arm. "I turn my back for a moment and the youngsters get attacked by meatless beasts. The worst part is that we can't even cook these things. Might be able to boil them, though."

"Wasn't you fault for being absent," said Stoic. "Besides, it sounds like they committed themselves well."

"They've come a long way in a short time, for sure," said Gobber. "But they didn't get away clean."

Stoic nodded and looked back toward the surf, where his son was helping the village healer tend to Toothless's leg. The good news was that it wasn't broken – that would have taken some time to heal. But the healer was suggesting at least a week of rest for the dragon, which definitely put the squad's summit plans in jeopardy.

"We can push back the show time," said Gobber, who was quite capable of reading his old friend's mind. "The summit will last five days. We could squeak in the demonstration at the end, when Toothless is better."

"I was hoping to do it up front," said Stoic. "Stonefist will be more open to negotiation if he sees our dragons light up a few of his men… in dummy form, of course."

"Well, just as a thought, but maybe Hiccup would be willing to fly on another dragon."

"Good luck there," replied Stoic. "Hiccup and Toothless are joined at the hip. Besides, the Gunnarr need to see our best in action. That's Hiccup and Toothless."

"No arguments there," said Gobber. "But he's still going to need a substitute during practice."

Stoic stirred the bones once more and frowned. "Deviltry. They went after our children, my son." Hiccup had told him about the battle, how six of these horrors had gained up on him. It was only due to Toothless's superb flying that he survived, though not before smashing himself on one of Thor's Fingers. Too close a shave for Stoic's comfort.

"I feared he was attracting some unwanted attention with these Mainland trips," he went on, "but I was too little, too late in putting a stop to it. These things could be hiding anywhere, and we can't guard the entire shoreline."

"What are you saying?" asked Gobber.

"I'm suspending the training until we know it's safe," declared Stoic. "Flights around the island as well. We'll double the watch and our patrols. I'll not let this ruin the summit, Gobber, nor will they go after my son again."

"I get that, but that might throw a bit of a crimp into our plans."

"Work with what we got. Keep it simple. But the summit cannot fail, Gobber. We'll deal with this… deviltry… after."

"Keep it simple," repeated Gobber. "Like I wasn't dumbing it down already. And what do we tell her about all this?"

He pointed his hook arm at a distant figure down the beach, her dark gray cloak easily picked out against the charcoaled rocks of the practice range. The Seer had caught wind of the fracas and had come out to see it for herself, flanked by her bodyguards. In a gesture of good faith, Stoic had given her free reign to explore the island as she saw fit, though she was restricted to the Great Hall, her private domicile, and a few other public locations while in the village. It was mostly an empty gesture on Stoic's part, since he didn't expect she'd want to leave the safety of the village. Turns out that she was more willing to travel than the tales implied.

Stoic muttered a whispered curse and said, "She's one more thorn in my boot I didn't need. If she asks, just tell her we're taking pains to ensure her people are extra-safe during the summit and that it will still occur in four days. That should satisfy her."

"And if she asks about the bone dragons?" questioned Gobber.

"Offer her some of that bone soup you were going to make," Stoic said with a smile.