Chapter 21

The walk was slow. I don't think I was making things easier. I was a very unhappy Viking, and was not shy about showing it. Snotlout mostly ignored me.

Even though I could no longer see the ships, or the water through the trees, I still heard enough. Dragon brains were wired to pick out certain sounds, like the rustle of a bush that concealed prey, or the hiss of dragon fire. Or danger. Maybe it was my imagination, but I was pretty sure I could still hear fighting.

Snotlout had me under his arm, so that my spine slotted into his armpit. With his other arm, he pushed through branches and . . . oh, one just hit him in the face. It would have been funny, but I was too worried for that.

He forced his way through another thicket, and half-stumbled to a stop in front of an upright spear. There was something off about it; it didn't look quite like Viking design. Maybe it was Roman? I could tell by the smell that it had been placed recently.

Next thing I knew, Snotlout had let me go, and I crashed to the ground.

He sat against a nearby tree, and scowling, picked leaves out of his hair. There were a couple of dirt streaks on his cheeks. How he got them when he had been walking through the forest, I had no idea. Trust him to figure out a way.

That's when Sneaky revealed his presence. He was sitting on a branch above Snotlout, and chewing on a fish. As I watched, part of it dropped onto Snotlout's helmet with a splat. It slid off sideways, leaving a grimy trail.

"This sucks," Snotlout said.

I said, "Well, it could be worse."

Dark, hooded eyes met mine. Snotlout's scowl grew deeper as he turned away from me.

"You're not seriously mad at me, are you?" Honestly, I wasn't as mad at him as I sounded either, but the frustration of knowing my people were under attack leaked into my tone. "I didn't ask for this, any of this! Dagur would have attacked whether I was human or not. This isn't my fault!"

Snotlout slumped over. His knees were drawn tight into his chest, as if he was trying to make himself into an angry ball of Viking. My nostrils flared as I studied his scent more closely . . . maybe it wasn't this problem with Dagur that he was so angry with.

I pushed his pant leg up, finding the scars of my bite. They had been wrapped, but not much more than that.

He slapped me away. "Leave it alone."

I returned. Poked my snout against the wrappings. It didn't smell like there was an infection, so that was good . . . I had a sudden, utterly gross itch to lick it.

Ugh. Sometimes being a dragon wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

"What?" he snapped. "Now you're sorry?"

I wasn't sure. But he didn't have to know that.

I stumbled away from him and in the direction of the ship, listening hard. There was still a low hum in my ears, but I still didn't know whether it was me or actually real. Anything could be happening right now. Anything.

"Hey!"

I looked over my shoulder. Sneaky had grabbed Snotlout's helmet by the horn, and dragged it right off his head. Snotlout tried to retrieve it, but stopped short when the Terror ran in my general direction. He crossed his arms and stared stonily at the sky.

"Come on, Sneaky," I said. "We're already having enough of a rough day."

He didn't want to give it back, so we played a short game of tug-of-war (it ended up with his snout in the ground. Did you know he squeaks when he's startled?) My tail sort of accidentally hit him in the head as I passed. I dropped the helmet on top of Snotlout's knees.

He stared at it for a long time.

A very long time.

Maybe he had never seen a reflection before?

"Argh!"

With one hand, Snotlout hurled his helmet through the air. With the sharp crack of metal on rock, it tumbled over a boulder, and out of sight. He stared after it with an expression that was partly pained, but mostly said he wanted to throw it again. Then, he turned to me.

"Stop it!" he shouted.

I stepped back. "What did I do?"

"Just stop it!" He was on his feet, towering over me. "You're always doing that thing where you're all nice and forgiving and feeling sorry for everyone. I'm sick of it! I don't want you to feel sorry for me, okay? I don't . . . I . . ."

He asked, "Why can't you just hate me?"

Whoa. Okay, then. Before, there had been a nagging feeling that there was more going on here than I understood. That was no longer just a feeling.

It was weird seeing Snotlout without his helmet. His hair was tangled and greasy, as if it had never heard of a comb. And once I noticed that, I noticed something else: he looked terrible. There were shadows under his eyes, and the skin seemed a little saggy. Had he lost weight? He might have, but it was hard to tell under all those clothes. But with my keen eyes, I could see that there was a quiet trace of exhaustion to his movements. They seemed stilted instead of smooth, like a nervous actor on stage.

He fell back against the tree, sliding down its trunk until he hit the ground. The anger was gone, but I could still sense loathing. I just wasn't sure what – or who – it was directed out.

I approached. "Look, Snotlout, I have no idea where all this is coming from, but I don't hate you. It's true. I never hated you. Disliked you, sure. Rather strongly, actually. But I never hated you."

I put my paw on his foot. "Ruff and Tuff told me what's going on . . . boy, it's weird giving a pep talk to someone who can't understand me. Anyways, what I want to say is that I get it. I spent so much of my life wishing I could be you; wishing that I could be part of the gang instead of just me . . . and I really wish you could understand me."

I couldn't say to Snotlout what needed to be said, but there were things that could be communicated without words. I crawled onto him, climbing up his chest so that when I smiled, I was right in front of his eyes.

"Come on: turn that frown upside down." I stuck my claw in the corner of his mouth, and pushed it upwards. It made him look a little scary.

" . . . Or not."

He was staring at me, and it made me uncomfortable. Not enough for the dragon-side of me to take over and run, but enough to freeze me in place. I waited. For what, I had no idea.

"We're leaving." Before I could react, he rolled to his feet, snatching me up at the same time. Sneaky jumped into the air like a startled grasshopper, and landed close. One of Snotlout's arms were under me; the other was against my throat, and that one pressed hard when I squirmed.

"Quit it. We have to go!" He hesitated a moment, staring at the boulder that his helmet had disappeared over. But for whatever reason, he deemed it unimportant, and began to shoulder his way through –

"Hey, Snotlout! There you are."

Sneaky took off. I blinked. I knew that voice, but it was definitely not one I had expected to hear. Snotlout turned to face the man -

"Sorry it took me so long," said Eret, son of Eret.

Snotlout mumbled something, looking downwards.

The wide smile that had been on Eret's face began to fade. "You weren't going somewhere, were you?"

He asked that with a theatrical flair, but it fooled no one. It was surreal: seeing someone speak and act so friendly, and still just know that something was off. He smelled faintly of sweat, but that could have been anything. It didn't reveal much.

But his eyes. I recognized them. They were the same, predatory eyes that I had seen on Dagur.

I hissed. "Snotlout, something's wrong!"

"I've changed my mind," Snotlout said to Eret.

Eret's smile twitched in a way that was almost painful. "Changing your mind? No, that's not going to work. Not after all the work I've done. Aiming Dagur at your ship without getting my throat cut is harder than you think."

" . . . Snotlout?" The horror hadn't quite settled in yet, but it was sinking in.

"Come on," Eret said. "You can't bail now. We're almost at the end. Nobody's going to find out."

"Snotlout?" My voice was a whisper now.

Eret held out his hand. "Just give me the dragon, and Berk is yours."

No. Snotlout wouldn't have – he couldn't have. But the look on Eret's face was one of smug confidence, while Snotlout's was completely pale. Sweat dotted his palms, and built up along his forehead.

"It's what you always wanted." Eret was too close, and Snotlout was rooted to the spot. "Remember what you told me: you deserve it. Not him. Come on. Just give me the dragon. Give me Hiccup."

"You sold me out," I whispered. "You sold us out."

Snotlout swallowed. "I . . ."

I kicked him in the stomach and pushed off hard. I landed on all fours between the two, so suddenly that neither seemed sure how to react. But when I started to make a run for it, Eret moved. He raised his hand, shouting "Hey!" as if that would actually stop me.

He whistled sharply.

From the woods in front and around us, strangers stepped forth. They all had the same kind of face paint markings as Eret: like they had dipped their fingers in paint and then dragged it down their chins. The hats they wore weren't horned, but tall. These were no Vikings. These were the same people had shot down the twins and me at the witch's hut.

"What's going on?" Snotlout demanded.

Eret stepped forward, hands spread wide in a friendly, disarming fashion. "I've dealt with small dragons before. They're slippery, so I brought some backup."

The circle closed in, and which each step, I could feel the noose around my neck tightened. It was hard to breathe, and what breaths I did take were hard and heavy.

"Look, kid, it's done. All you got to do now is go home, wait for your chief to croak, and you're next in line. Everyone wins."

"What about him?" Snotlout asked, glancing at me sideways.

"Dragon trapper," Eret said. "Not killer. He'll be fine. I won't hurt him."

"Snotlout, don't do this. Please!"

Snotlout stepped forward. At this angle, with him looming above me, he looked unearthly. His breath condensed in the cold air, shimmering in front of his face. His hair stuck to his temples as if he had walked through a rainstorm.

"We'll take care of the rest," Eret urged. "You just have to keep your mouth shut."

Silence. Snotlout looked at me.

And he turned away.

"Snotlout!" I shrieked. "Look, I know you're mad at me, and that we've never really seen eye to eye and all, but think about what you're doing. I'm your cousin. Snotlout, you can't do this!"

My speech degraded into frantic yips and yelps, until even I wasn't sure what I was saying. Snotlout was eerily still, unable to look at me, or the terrifyingly confident Eret. Out of all of us, he was clear that he was in control of the situation. He wore a half-smile now, and had a little tilt to his head that gave it that threatening undertone. His men waited, tense and alert.

"Walk away, Snotlout," he said, voice gliding through the air like a serpent. "Walk away."

There was nothing. Nothing but the silent countdown in my mind as I realized I was alone. There was no Toothless to bail me out this time. And Snotlout . . . Snotlout couldn't be trusted.

Then, every muscle in Snotlout's body slipped into place as he built himself up from the bottom up. His face remained slanted towards the ground, but then his chin began to lift, exposing his eyes . . .

With a wild cry, he flung himself at the wall of bodies, bringing two of them to the ground. He twisted at the hip, shouting, "Hiccup, go -!"

And stopped dead. There was something sticking out of his neck. A dart? He garbled a few random syllables. Then, his eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he collapsed.

"Snotlout?" I ran towards him as the circle began to close in . . .

But in doing so, I had forgotten about Eret. A firm hand closed on my tail and held me high, so that I dangled like a fish on a hook.

"And that's one down." I hissed, but Eret's other hand clamped down on my snout. "Nice try."

His men began to move, and with an eyebrow cocked, Eret said, "What are you doing? Grab the Viking, too."

One of his men glanced at Snotlout. "But . . ."

"We can't have him tattling on us when he wakes up. We'll drop him off on an island somewhere."

No! This couldn't be happening! I thrashed violently, reaching with my claws towards his tempting, bare flesh.

"Hey, knock it off. Just stop fighting and . . . What am I doing? He's a dragon. Hey, give me a hand and shoot him!"

I twisted. Maybe if I was quick, it would miss -

It was dark and damp. A single porthole provided sunlight, but everything seemed a sickly grey colour. Snotlout was in a corner, staring dully at the locked door keeping us in this small room. As the ship rocked, the chains holding his wrists behind him rubbed against the wooden walls. Without his helmet, he looked small. Diminished. But at least if he wanted to, he had the chance to move around. The cage I was in was small enough that I couldn't lay down without curling my tail.

In desperation and frustration, I charged up a shot and flamed the iron bars. Again. Night Furies could break through cages. Toothless could. But I was too young a dragon; my fire was too weak. If the table my cage was nailed to hadn't been made of metal, the only thing I would have done is burned the place down.

The red glow faded from the bars as I panted. Nothing. For once, my mind had deserted me. I had no ideas, no clever plans. Nothing. And I was sure Snotlout wasn't going to be much help.

"Well, this is fantastic." We had quite the ideal situation here. Lost at sea on a boat filled with strangers, with absolutely no idea where we were going, and with Berk not even knowing we were gone. Sure, they'd figure it out eventually, but then what? They didn't know where to go, and there was only one dragon . . .

I winced. Oh, Toothless. Forget Dad and Astrid, he was going to be furious. He might even accidentally sink this ship in any attempt to rescue me.

Mouth dry, I began to wonder again about the end of Dagur's attack on our ship. Had Astrid warded them off? Had they boarded only to find I wasn't there? Odin, what would Berk do when they realized I was missing? Surely, they wouldn't expect some random strangers to have abducted me, not when the island was filled with so many present and former enemies.

I clawed at the bars, and then slammed my forehead against it. It hurt.

"What am I going to do?" I whispered.

Grim: Maybe he should, but Hiccup's personality has always been that of a pretty laid-back and forgiving guy. It's like Ruffnut and Tuffnut said: he's too nice.

a random person: Now you know :)

Jazz: They would, too. Chase a sheep off a cliff? Well, they were just working on their dragon's hunting skill. Blow up a house? Well, they needed something to test their new attack on.

Yep, they are. Dagur is a little ... deranged ;p

Well hopefully this chapter answered your questions about Hiccup/Sneaky/Snotlout.