Stoick didn't want to be interrupted, but he didn't seem to be doing anything. He was standing just inside the smithy rubbing his hands on Thornado, shifting from one boot to the other. Hiccup still walked forward, hands cupping the rainbow crystal.
"Hiccup; where are the fledglings?"
"In the cove." Hiccup handed the phone to him. "Mud's mother wants to speak to you."
"Good." He grabbed the rainbow block and barked into it. "You are the boy's mother?"
A muted voice came from the block, making the stripes shimmer. Thornado shied away from the noise.
"I can't hear you; are you trapped in the crystal?"
Hiccup sighed, thought of what Gunhild had done. He grabbed his Stoick's hand and guided the vibrating crystal to his dad's ear.
Once that happened, a change came over Stoick; his bearded mouth opened, and he whispered a word that Hiccup couldn't quite catch. His dad then asked a question in a tremulous voice. The answer made his face collapse into a broken, tender expression.
Something told Hiccup to leave, that he wasn't privy to this conversation. Besides, the fledglings wanted to hold Nephil's funeral, and he had to make sure they didn't set the woods on fire. He turned to go, disturbed by the broken look on his father's face. He had only seen it once, when Stoick had thought Hiccup had died in a treasure hunt.
Why would Stoick care about a boy they had just rescued? Did Hiccup dare think about the most logical answer?
"Stoick."
He was thunderstruck, and it was strange because he had not heard this voice in ten years, not since Hiccup was a toddler, and yet he knew who it was. That was why he mouthed her name.
"Is it you?" he whispered.
"Yes." Her voice swept over him like a gentle wave sweeps over a smooth rock.
"Then-" he glanced back into the open smithy, where Mud turned in his sleep. "Then Mud is-"
"Yes. How is he?"
"Sleeping," he told her. It didn't feel right to tell her the details, to outline each bruise on Mud's chest.
"And he's all right? Gunhild said Rainbow Isle fell."
"He's all right. So are the fledglings. For now."
"Thank the gods." She seemed to be on the verge of tears. "Thank the gods."
"How is this possible?" He didn't know why he kept whispering, or why she didn't ask about his other son. "I saw you die. I saw your body buried."
"Odin makes things possible." This was tinged with bitterness.
"Are you alive?"
"No. I haven't been alive for a long time. But Mud is."
He rubbed his temple, practically broke the rainbow block as he squeezed it.
"Gods," he kept saying. "Gods. Where are you?"
"I don't know, exactly, but I cannot leave easily. It's not a friendly place. Otherwise . . ." her voice trailed off. "Thank you for saving him. Thank you."
"It's what we do," he grunted. "I've always protected our Hiccup."
"As I knew you would." This was hesitation, as if she had trouble remembering who Hiccup was. "Will you take care of him? Keep him safe?"
Stoick didn't have to think hard to give his answer. It was disbelief that stopped him from immediately responding, as well as the anger that she didn't remember his firstborn. Only concern for Mud, although Mud needed that concern. Mercy, as Gobber had suggested, or more pain to awaken his heart?
"I will. I promise."
"Thank you."
He had so many questions, so many things to ask that each of them crowded into his mouth and would not let the other respond.
"I'll call again, when I can."
"If only-" he started, and then regained his courage. "If only I could see you, to know that you were real."
"I haven't always been real, Stoick, but my love for you always was." Her voice was filled with regret. "Souls do not last long on Midgard, or I would have come sooner."
"I've always loved you as well," he responded. A moment of silence then, just hearing each other's breathing.
"Good bye. I love you as much as I always have." A beep and her voice vanished.
Stoick released his tightened fingers. He had cracked the crystal at the edges from clenching it so hard.
Thornado offered his large head up for patting. Stoick found himself stroking the dragon, talking to him. The cold night already seemed chillier.
"It was her, Thornado," he kept saying. "It was HER."
On the beach, Hiccup and Fishlegs had tied together limbs to make a raft for Nephil's body. They then set Nephil on the raft and waded into the surf. Behind them Meatlug started a fire on the sand, waiting to dry their clothes.
The dragon was still wrapped in Hiccup's shirt, but he wasn't going to retrieve it at this point. Fishlegs still looked green that the babies had wanted to cut up their younger brother and examine each organ. It hadn't helped that Hiccup insisted on replacing the bruised heart and lungs before rewrapping the body.
THE WAVES ARE LOUD, Gunhild commented, her large eyes on the black horizon. AND A STORM IS COMING.
"Are you ready?" Hiccup backed away from the raft. Fishlegs did the same.
All the babies and Toothless reared. They shot five fireballs so that they hit the raft at the same time. The blaze passed Hiccup's cheek. He and Fishlegs quickly made their way to the shore.
"You could have waited till we were out of range?" Fishlegs panted. He shivered and knelt in front of Meatlug's campfire. His dragon nuzzled him.
Hiccup stayed in the shallow surf, well out of range. The raft burned quickly, sending shards of sparks into the air. Ardis and Gunhild watched their brother blaze into the sky as sparks.
HE WAS NAMED FOR A RACE OF GIANTS, Gunhild said. NEPHIL WAS BORN SMALL, BUT HE NEVER LET THAT STOP HIM FROM TRYING TO GROW.
HE WAS LIKE OUR UNCLE IVOR, Einar added. HE WOULD NEVER TURN FROM A FIGHT, NO MATTER HOW OFTEN HE LOST.
HE NEVER MISSED WHEN SHOOTING FIRE, AND HE REMEMBERED MUD'S STORIES BEST, Helgi recalled fondly. AND HE LIKED BAKED CLAMS WHEN WE WENT DOWN TO THE BEACH.
Ardis took time to say her part. She closed her eyes, took a quavering breath, and began to sing softly, under her breath. Her soprano voice could dive into the deeper scales, oddly enough. It sounded like a mourning song, but it was one that Mud had taught them, one that wouldn't be written for several hundred years. Hiccup and Fishlegs didn't know that of course, but they sensed that the music was not from their time, or even from their country. Gunhild joined her on the second verse.
AND WHERE THE JOURNEY MAY LEAD YOU
LET THIS PRAYER BE YOUR GUIDE
THOUGH IT MAY TAKE YOU SO FAR AWAY
ALWAYS REMEMBER YOUR PRIDE
They repeated this with several chants in a tongue Hiccup could not identify. Einar and Helgi flattened their ears, but they took in each word. The soft melody swirled around the burning raft, guiding the sparks into the storm clouds. The clouds thundered on, oblivious to the mourning.
This isn't over, Hiccup thought, listening with a sense of doom and sadness. He crawled to where Fishlegs fed more twigs to the fire and clutched his shaking arms. This was just a squall. The real storm is yet to come.