Epilogue
Satisfaction was something of a quixotic quest to Cervantes. He could never quite achieve it, even when all the variables favored him. Cervantes knew better to believe in curses – no one could call down divine wrath on others, and he should know – but sometimes he wondered if he had picked up a pint of misfortunate in his life, not enough to thwart him outright, but enough to keep him from true success.
He had watched the Alchemist's Night Fury zoom off into the horizon, carrying two passengers but lacking its master. He had watched Archibald… that thrice-cursed Archibald… emerge from the Repository before he could finish toppling it.
No Dragon Rider, though. No flesh-and-blood Night Fury. No lackey of Archibald riding on the dragon's shoulders.
Important losses, for sure, but nowhere near the losses he wanted.
Still, any day that ended in the death of the Alchemist was certainly a good day. And he had gotten revenge on the ones who destroyed his Monolith body. Payback had no moral center; it wasn't just reserved for those who perform evil.
The crew of the ship was no more at ease with him than before, and their uneasy faces all but said "devil with a nice shiny coating," but they had a new spring in their step after witnessing the destruction of the Repository. Most of them had accepted that there would be no reprieve from the Alchemist. Finality had a way of making people amenable to change.
He ordered the helmsman to chart a course back to the Alchemist's lair, the place known as the Safe House. He knew little about it, as the Alchemist had kept that much out of her insipid one-sided conversations, but he knew that he needed to go there just the same. This trip to the Repository had been little more than a fishing expedition. Her true plan bore further investigation, and the place to start looking was back at her home. Along the way, he and the Alchemist's half-troll lackey, currently resting uncomfortably in the brig, would have a little chat.
Cervantes felt a grin slip onto his steel face, and he allowed it to continue. Whatever plans the Alchemist had, the world was safe from them… but it was far from safe from him.
Ship proved to be a good listener. It had drifted away from the maelstrom, a little too far away for Linebreaker's liking but still obeying the spirit of the command. Arc found it off to the south, turning lazily in a tidal current that would have sent it into a sandbar before the sun had set.
Linebreaker called it a burst of good fortune to compensate for… everything else. After the looks he got from the others, he wisely decided to skip the cheering-up part of being a captain and concentrate on getting them back to the coast.
Arc sat on his haunches in the middle of the deck, acting like he was keeping watch on the horizon for any further unpleasant surprises when the truth was that a hurricane could be simmering in the background and he wouldn't have noticed it. Internally, he wanted to nothing more than to find the ship's hold and crawl in there, but the others needed him to not do that.
He saved an occasional glance for Saga, who had staked out the bow of the ship. She stood with her back to him, also acting like she really was on sentry duty. She had not said a word since he'd carried her out of the Repository. Stoic Saga, back from a long absence… and perhaps here to stay this time.
So lost in his own silent misery that his keen eyes and ears didn't even pick up on Qiao's footsteps until she was standing next to him, leaning on the ship railing and gazing off to a faraway place that only she could envision. Her eyes were red and half-closed.
"I don't… I don't know what to say, Arc," she said, her voice meek. "Saying sorry just seems so inadequate."
"You didn't do this, Qiao," he answered, keeping his voice low.
"You came to save me."
"We came to do a lot of things. Saving you was… convenient."
"Oh."
Arc stopped his mournful gazing long enough to look at Qiao. "That was an attempt at levity."
"Stop attempting."
Arc sighed. "I merely hope that you don't take the weight of today's outcome on your shoulders."
"Hard not to feel it. I mean, Hiccup and Astrid and Toothless and Nestor…"
"Nestor's not dead."
Qiao raised an eyebrow Arc's way. "How do you know that?'
"I know, Qiao."
"Oh, right, that Hyperion essence thing. Does that mean…?"
"He's not dead. That's all I know. It's doesn't mean he's okay." That was the truth. Hyperions shared a common essence that connected them all. Nestor didn't have a full essence, but he shared a link with Arc with only one benefit – Arc would know when his protégé's life-force winked out. It was too weak a link for Arc to trace, which meant Nestor truly was on his own.
"So Hiccup and Toothless…"
"No idea. You saw them teleport with Nestor."
Qiao took a little comfort in the ambiguity. "Alche told me once that the T-Node network was going to revolutionize the world. Instantaneous travel to anywhere with two connecting Nodes. Only a few Nodes were built before the End War, and even Alche didn't know where they were all built."
"If they are out there, I will find them." Arc sounded far more certain than he felt. He knew nothing about these T-Nodes. He had no idea where to begin his search.
"Doesn't do much for Astrid, though." Qiao sniffed once at the mention of the young Viking. "Didn't help Alche, either, but at least she deserved what she got."
"A harsh thing to say, considering your history."
"Yes, it's harsh." A glint of anger flashed in her eyes. "She had more power at her fingertips than all the warlords in China combined. And what was she going to do with it?'
"What was she going to do with it?"
Qiao had to stop and actually think about it. No answer came forth. "I don't know. A better world, I guess, if that's even possible when you're out to sell mega-powerful weapons."
"I don't buy it." Arc narrowed his brow in thought. "She could easily sell weapons with the knowledge she already possessed. Why go to the Repository?"
"Oh, that was for the zanick."
"The odd stone Hiccup took from her?" Arc suddenly reached into his mouth and plucked something out from between his teeth, using his claws as tongs. The dodecahedron, shiny with saliva, now sat in Arc's hand. "Easier than carving pockets into my scales."
"A much bigger stone than that," clarified Qiao. "I think Dark Star flew out with it."
Arc chuffed. "Can't do her any good now. I fear more what Cervantes will do with the Alchemist's leftovers."
"So what do we do now?"
Arc looked at her oddly. "We? I didn't think your involvement was necessary any longer."
"I owe you guys now," she insisted. "I owe… everyone who didn't come out of there."
Arc couldn't bring himself to smile, but he managed a nod. "Honor amongst thieves."
"It's not honor," defended Qiao. "It's decency."
Decency. There was something Arc had to eventually tell her. It would be the "decent" thing to do. But while he continued to mull over when to tell Qiao his theory about her real "heritage," this was certainly neither the time nor the place.
Eventually, though…
"So, again," said Qiao, "what do we do now?"
"We start by having you lead us to the home of your surrogate mother."
As drained as he was, Arc barely flinched when Saga sidled up between him and Qiao, the young thief jumping back a step in shock. Yet Arc did feel a seeping chill travel down his spine upon seeing Saga's eyes.
No redness, not one wet trail on her cheeks, no phlegm in her voice at all. A pure mask of ice, as cold as the Artic wind.
This was not Saga. This was all Seer… all Gunnarr. Her statement had been a command, and even Arc felt intimidated enough by those remorseless eyes that he forgot to argue with her.
"We will go there and find the ones responsible for Astrid's death," the Seer icily stated. "We will make every last one of them pay… and all those who stand with them."
Toothless came awake with clingy sand under his paws and a pervasive dryness surrounding him. A far cry from the cold, wet home he'd known for years, and it only got worse upon opening his eyes and seeing the new landscape.
Such a barren place, this new land. Rust-brown dirt covered the featureless realm, devoid of any plant life or even the remains of plant life. Powerful winds blew loose earth around, smarting the dragon's eyes. The ground felt like it hadn't felt the grace of water in years, the clouds scarce and the sun relentlessly pounding the land with sunshine.
They were alone for now, which made them safe in the sort term. In the long term…
Toothless turned to his rider, who was stretched out on the sand, unresponsive. He had slipped off the dragon at some point before Toothless had regained his senses, resting on the sand like a dead fish. Toothless nudged him once with his head, netting a slight moan from Hiccup. The poor boy stubbornly clung to unconsciousness. Perhaps the frightening, dizzying experience of light and sensation that had thrown them into this forsaken land had been harder on him than Toothless.
Or perhaps the poor boy didn't want to wake up.
Toothless felt the strain of grief in his heart. Astrid was gone, fallen into the dark cave. Family was lost today, and he hadn't been able to stop it. Neither had Nestor, though the man had tried.
Nestor.
He checked the scene once more, strained his ears to pick up the slightest noise, the merest sign of life. He heard only the constant whine of the wind. No animals in the vicinity… and no sign of Nestor. Not one footprint leading away, no indentation in the dirt where he might have rested.
Nestor had disappeared.
At a loss, confused and saddened over too many things at once, the dragon fell back to what he knew. Survival was paramount now, and Hiccup was in no condition to make decisions.
He nudged Hiccup again with no success, then studied the land to the west of his position. A small plateau stood out in the barrenness, surrounded by natural spires of shaped rock reaching up to the sky like deformed fingers, many miles away. Where there was shaped rock, there was often water – a lesson from his solitary days. Easy to reach by air…
To his dismay, he remembered the state of his tail. Hiccup had not fixed it yet. Nor could he do flying jumps with Hiccup unable to hold on. But staying here in the searing wind and merciless sun would prove to be the death of them both.
He carefully knelt down and tenderly shoved his head under Hiccup's body, moving the boy along his back to a spot where he wouldn't readily fall off. Keeping his back straight and his limping gait slow, Toothless moved off toward the plateau, his unconscious cargo bouncing and swaying to the rhythm of the dragon's steps.
Understandably distracted by other matters, the dragon failed to notice the nature of his resting place. Right underneath him had been solid rock, and one part of the rock had a shapelier contour than the rest. A crystalline pyramid with alien symbols poked out of the sedimentary material, alight with weak yellow energy, mostly obscured by accumulated sand buildup. The glow faded as Toothless walked away – by the time he'd gone twenty steps, the artifact was as lifeless as the rocks that held it prisoner.
Definitely Not The End