Gris saw everything, and she could do nothing. Teleport weapons to the Vanir youth, yes. Warn them about the horde of dragons that flew over their carefully made traps. But teleport them out of there?

Not without Mud. She would not leave him to the mercy of those Outcasts or her father.

Her bulky form stood in front of the Bifrost. Freya had an arm over her bandaged wings. They watched with anxiety. Harmful and the crystals blinked with alarm.

FATHER! She spoke through the crystals. DON'T KILL MY NEPHEW! HE'S ONLY A FLEDGLING!

No response from the water. Green had never listened to her, back when she had been the dragon who cried DANGER!

Hiccup, the mortal who had freed her little Fury and protected her family, HAD to have found out he had to restore magic to the Archipelago. He had to put so much faith in that little rune stone that Mud had carved for Ivor. It was cracking at the corners, doing its best to shield his mind from the magic and memories flowing through him. At worse, the magic would carry his soul with it through the earth and leave his body an insane corpse. At best?

HE NEEDS MORE DRAGON'S BLOOD. She whispered with fear.

"Gris?" Freya asked in a soft undertone.

YOU NEED TO DRAW BLOOD FROM ME, FREYA. THEN I WILL TRANSFER IT TO HIS RUNE STONE. IT'S THE ONLY WAY IT WILL LAST.

"What?"

HE NEEDS DRAGON'S BLOOD, BLOOD OF THE GREEN DEATH'S KIN.

Freya stood away from her, shaking her head.

"Your wings aren't healed. You'll die," she said. "After what happened with your sister, I swore to never raise a healing hand to spill blood."

THEN I SACRIFICE THE WINGS AND BLOOD IN MY WINGS, Gris said; she bent her large black snout and bit the Bifrost. Its images crackled, and the light wavered. Still she bit and lifted her head.

A crystal broke off, gleaming red and yellow. She barked at it, and it pierced her bandaged wings.

GO TO THE BOY'S RUNE STONE. FILTER HIS SOUL FROM THE MAGIC. PROTECT HIM.

A glow; Gris collapsed against the Rainbow Bridge. The images became cracked, almost blurry. Her wings had vanished, and her back was bleeding profusely.

Freya screamed, started calling for help. There was a trampling of large feet and smelly boots. Her hands cradled a head large enough to bite off a mountain.

Gris managed to lift her head. She saw Vanir dressed in battle armor and wielding swords. They must have sensed the magic returning to the Archipelago and the need to protect Asgard. With the Bifrost damaged, however and with her bulk guarding it, they would not be able to journey and aid Vali and Vidar. Men and women growled angrily at the dragon.

"Useless reptile!" one of them shouted.

Gris did not care. She saw the boy breathing, even as a thousand years coursed through him. Her blood formed a large spot on his tunic around the rune stone, pulsing and throbbing. She prayed that it would be enough.

It was the shaking and rough beard that made Eos realize what had happened. Gods, she had form. She was breathing. She was . . .

Alive.

She pressed harder against Stoick. Wood and skin had merged into a light brown color. It was her skin, and she hadn't kissed any man like this in ages. She and Loki had tried once in the Underworld- afterword Loki had to dive into a volcano to unfreeze his lips, and Heluth had made hideous retching sounds during the ordeal- but they weren't attracted to each other. Loki may have been a small Vanir, but he was Vanir. He liked bigger, stronger women.

More shaking broke her kiss from Stoick. She lifted her hands- wooden hands, but still hands- away from his face. Leaves swirled between her fingers. He still had his arms around her waist. Thank the gods he had carved clothing for her, or this would be embarrassing.

"You taste like mint and tree bark," he said. He pressed his lips against her textured forehead, against the nick he had made.

"You taste like Berk," she responded. "Like home and fire."

"Are you two done, or are you going to get a hut?" Loki asked.

That killed the mood. Eos turned from Stoick and took her first footstep in years. Flowers sprouted where she stepped, with bare wooden feet. A trail of red and yellow flowers followed her. In the shadows, four dragon fledglings watched with interest. Gris's children. She wobbled toward Loki with a hard look. He caught her.

"Don't think about slapping me, darling; you'll fall over. Save it for later, when you're less of a mermaid on land."

Eos glared and grounded her feet. Leaves sprouted up, holding her in place. Then she whirled and slapped him, hard. Loki recoiled.

"Ow! Darling!"

"That was for rescuing me instead of my sons," she said. Then she pressed her hand to the red cheek and cooled it with green mist. He sighed in relief. "That was for looking out for them when I couldn't."

They felt the ground shake. Then all heard the sound of a horn. He covered his cheek and backed away.

"Ho boy," he said.

"Earthquake?" Stoick asked.

"Archipelago being restored of its essence," Loki sighed. "That means the gods have power on Midgard again, hip hip hooray."

"Why so morose?"

"It means that the guardian of the Bifrost will have her hands full and be unable to teleport us anywhere. The second sound was Heimdall's horn, which your enemy Alvin stole from Heimdall's body," Loki said. "Also, darling, your boys are in danger and we can't teleport to the island."

Thornado approached Stoick; Eos jumped on seeing the large dragon. It came to closer, and she stroked it with both hands.

"There is always the exciting route," she said. "But we can't do it alone."

It took very slow footsteps; she was not used to gravity pulling on her. Nor was she used to having to push tree branches out of the way.

"Here, Mrs. Chief. Let me." It was Snotlout of all people who offered his hands. She took them; he helped her walk.

"You've grown well," Eos said with praise. "You look so handsome."

"You look so . . . woody." Snotlout had to think to find the next few words. "Since you're good with plants and flowers, do you know anything that would help Hookfang?"

"Hookfang?"

"My dragon." He sounded worried. "He's not getting up, though he's breathing, and I'm supposed to be the back-up. For Hiccup and the others. If they're in danger-"

"I have just the thing for dragons." She assured him. They stopped several feet from Thor and Magni's body. "Stay back. This is something I need to do on my own."

Snotlout had survival instincts; he backed away as she clomped to the blond god.

"Thor." She reached and clasped his shoulder. "I'm sorry for your loss. But you must put aside your grief. We need you."

He didn't respond. This man had been destined to lie with her, and he didn't respond.

"Magni's death must not be in vain; if you want to stop the world from ending, you must fix his mistakes. Fight the Outcasts with Mjollnir's help. Save your other son."

"He's not my son," Thor responded. "He's a mortal changeling."

Stoick charged, Loki trying to hold him back, but Eos struck first. She smacked the back of Thor's head. It wasn't a hard blow, even for Vanir, but it was enough to make Stoick stop. His neck twisted, and he stood up to confront her, after placing Magni's body on the ground.

"You hit me!" he said, face contorted with anger. "You little weakling; how dare you? I didn't even feel it!"

"Good. That means it's working," she said coolly.

"What is?"

"Call it a salve on your grief; you won't feel intense sadness and loss for a few hours. One of Freya's tricks. Fate is unraveling because you didn't lie with me when you should have, and because I didn't seek you out in Asgard." She took a deep breath. "We both made critical mistakes in our youth. After this, we will go our separate ways and never speak of it, but for now, save my son. Save Midgard. Correct Magni's wrongs."

"Why?"

"Jarnsaxa will lose her favor in Asgard, having a treacherous son. I do not participate, but some of the stupider Vanir may blame her for Magni's wrongdoings. If you redeem him in your name, you can defend her from Odin and the Vanir's wrath. Do it for her, if not for Magni."

Loki gave a low laugh. Eos heard him whisper to Stoick: "I'm a bad influence on her."

Thor took more deep breaths. He grabbed his hammer, gave Magni an apologetic look.

"At least keep his body preserved for a hero's funeral," he said, voice choking. "Don't let the flies eat him before we can burn a boat for him."

Eos nodded. She gestured with her hands. Thick, woody vines sprung slowly from the ground. They dripped sap over the corpse, sap that hardened into amber. Magni was encased in orange crystal, which gleamed like a glass coffin.

Thor squeezed her hand in thanks. He whirled his hammer, and the skies roared with thunder. Battle clung to his face, and he charged for the black clouds.

"What a drama queen," Loki called after him. "You still have to know where we're going, big brother."

Eos simply shrugged. Her hair was amazingly long and wavy, despite being wood as well, and the wind tore at it. She picked up her wooden feet and walked to the bulky Viking boy.

"You hit Thor!" Snotlout was impressed and shocked. "Mrs. Chief- uh, Valhallarama- you-"

"She hit me also," Loki said. "What, I'm not that important?"

"I've been wanting to do that for a long time," Eos said with an angry smile. "Now take me to your dragon; adrenaline will make him effective 'back-up'."

In the Underworld, Heluth sat up straight. She was in the special project room, sharing a nervous drink with the construction workers. She clenched her hard cider and sipped the foam like a child. Although not in the main chamber in which souls came via river, she sensed someone in Helheim's Gate was on the border between life and death.

"Not today," she said, and moved her skeletal fingers. It was a twitch, but that twitch sent the soul crashing back into its body, tethering it to mortal form. Whether he'd regain consciousness then, she'd never know.

Once, she had seen this soul teetering between life and death. It could have gone either way, and she had pushed it towards life. The Green Death, once in a fit of insanity, had told her servants- the ones who came to explore the mountain, the ones who could leave- that its death would have a price. Whoever, or whatever killed it, would pay with what made them strong. The servants, mere walking skeletons, had preserved that message in a water flask, and brought it to her.

Heluth had known that the day she had spared this soul before. A skinny body falling in a mass of fire, a falling dragon swooping to catch it. That day, Mud was fencing with Heimdall by the Bifrost, and Eos had been tending Fenris, who had gotten into a tussle with Jo. She had been by herself, watching the battle between the small boy and the larger dragon.

She could have let him die that day, let him fall to the ground and splatter. Others had died on these waters, stupid Vikings sailing into fog.

Except . . . he had green, intelligent eyes. Brown hair that fell in untidy tufts behind his ear. Warm, sacrificial love for the creature he was riding. He had reminded her too much of Modi, of Modi once he had a growth spurt.

She had thought of how she'd feel if Modi died fighting a dreaded enemy. How it would have felt to lose the small boy she called "little brother."

Heluth hadn't borne the thought well. She had dug her hands into the ice-cold Underworld, river, had pushed his soul back to life, and his left leg, which helped his Fury fly, had disappeared on Midgard. That satisfied the Green Death's condition, because he hadn't known about prosthetics.

That was why Hiccup had never complained about losing his leg, though he never liked others mentioning it. Some part of him realized that it was the death goddess's form of payment for his life.

Heluth realized something else now. Modi had touched the water. Not intentionally; she heard Heimdall's horn and realized what damage it would have caused, what damage it was causing now. The treacherous Outcast was trying to break open the Underworld, was attacking her cousin!

First, she took a large sip of cider. Throat burning, she faced the construction workers. So many undead souls had to cover Eos's duties, from cooking dinner in the brick ovens to tending the gardens of eternal paradise. Her mask and bony half of her face gleamed with fury.

"Some heathens are threatening my foster brother," she said, eyes cold. "Fight off the ones with potatoes on their flag and rescue Modi, son of Thor and Eos. Happy hour will be extended to those who take down more than ten men at a time."

The construction workers, varying in wholeness from pure skeletons to demonic flesh and horns, cheered. They gulped their shots and grabbed their weapons. Heluth kept the cold smile pasted to her face, even when fear clenched her guts.

It would have been so easy to give up. The Vanir had stronger lungs than mortals did, but even they had to drown at some point, and water was not Mud's element. He could have lain on the dirt floor with a few hundred gallons of water on top of him and let his cheeks turn blue from oxygen deprivation.

He couldn't. Not just because he had promised to live. Facing the cloudy sky, he saw Alvin riding on the stitched up Whispering Death, the twins' frightened comments, Astrid's dragon attempting to blast the water to free him. Their leader, his STUPID thinking brother, was breathing but barely conscious, registering the catastrophes around them with glazed eyes. Harmful had its blade full protecting him and Fury from the metal darts, probably meant as sedatives. It didn't have time to help the other kids as four Changewings materialized. Mud hadn't given the order to evacuate.

They needed Mud. He had to live it . He couldn't move, but he could do SOME magic.

So Mud gritted his teeth, blew out his breath to make a large bubble around his head, and shouted, "GRANDFATHER!"

The green gathered into two large orbs. The water pressed around his bubble but did not burst it. He had several minutes of air. Its words rippled with sound.

Son of Eos. Child of . . . Fire . . .

"Also Thunder," Mud said, and he coughed out water. His nose burned, and his lungs were racked. Yet he was alive. For the moment.

You're . . . tiny.

If not for the coughing and precious oxygen, Mud would have screamed with frustration. He was being drowned by a fractured dragon's soul, watching his brother's friends fall, and the soul only cared about his SIZE? What was the matter with his family?

And young. Must . . Kill you.

"Why?"

Eos . . . lost her. Lost my fledgling. She . . Died. Never came back.

"Oh, I see." Mud tried to reduce his sarcasm. "That was Thor's fault. Not mine."

Your . . . fault. You . . .exist. She does not. Unfair.

Great. Nutty as a fruitcake but much more powerful.

"Eos loves me!" Mud insisted. "Even when dead, she raised me in the Underworld! If anything happened to me, her heart would break!"

Anything? That seemed to reduce the hostility.

"That bad man trying to pierce your watery soul, he's captured her," Mud explained, watching as Alvin's dragon shot spines through the wave towards him. The green glow knocked them aside "He wants me as well, to use against her. If I can just drain myself in your water and lead him into the Underworld, Heluth can finish him off and I can rescue Mum from him."

You would . . . give up your Vanir essence to fight?

"I'd renounce Asgard just so he doesn't have power over me! I'd rather die free than live under his power, so I could help Mum!"

He . . . took it from you. Part of your soul.

Thor Almighty, Alvin seemed to realize that ironwood would pierce the watery bulk. Green formed a large bubble around Mud's head as the oxygen disappeared.

"I will make the sacrifice," Mud said hurriedly. "I'm not afraid to die helpless. I'll carry you to the Underworld, so you can see Mum once I rescue her."

This was the truth; the Green Death's soul was decayed, but it was a soul, and Heluth would be happy to help repair it. Who knows, maybe Mum could help with her soft hands and healing touch.

I would . . . like that. To see . . . Eos. But-

"But?"

You are foolish, willingly losing bits of yourself. It's not . . . pleasant. Eos would . . . would not want that.

"I don't have a choice. "

He shouldn't have said that; the orbs gleamed with an almost wicked pleasure. Its sentences became more coherent, and the soul seemed to regain sanity for a moment.

You will always be under his power, for he can always deprive you and control you. I cannot let that happen.

The bubble burst, and the green glow forced itself into Mud. He tried to turn his head, but it forced itself into his mind. A shot of water aimed for his belt, cutting away the water flask from his frozen limbs.

This is my gift to you, Eos's son; you can never be drained again. Know how to use that, and let me see her again.

"No!" Mud gasped, swallowing water, but already the wave and green light took him away from the fighting, back out the tunnel. If the mountain hadn't been broken open, the riders and their dragons would have drowned, but they managed to hover in the exposed air and avoid the wave.

"Mud!" Astrid screamed, just as dragon nip darts hit Stormfly. She came down with the large splash, attempted to reach for him. The wave flowed past her outstretched fingers, and Mud couldn't have reached anyway. He couldn't move a muscle below his neck.

It deposited him in front of the blocked-up tunnel saying 'closed for renovation'. He coughed and vomited water, still prone and paralyzed. Mud tried, but he couldn't drain himself; the water wouldn't accept his essence. It batted against his fingers before flowing through the cracks in the walls. The flask lay a useless distance away.

Of all times to receive this "gift"! If Mud had known only a few days ago, he would have given his left hand to receive it, but now-

Alvin landed, hopped off his dragon and approached slowly. Mud tried to get up, to show he wasn't going to go down without a fight, but his arms and legs wouldn't move.

"Come now, son, you're not afraid of me?" Alvin opened his large hands as if to parley. Mud saw the ironwood manacles hanging from his belt, cuffs inscribed with reverse Fehu. Like the bracelet for Magni.

"I'm terrified," Mud said with a burning throat. "But I'm still going to stop you."

Alvin's laugh echoed across the collapsed tunnel. The cloudy sky beamed on Mud like an unwanted wool blanket, as if it too were laughing.

"You? Stop me? Maybe if you hadn't let me take your essence a few days ago, I'd believe you. But now-"

He clenched his fist. Mud screamed; his muscles started to cramp in his groin, in the men's sensitive spot. He couldn't writhe, and that seemed to make the pain worse. It was as if a bad-tempered crab had decided to go there.

Yes, the Green Death had been nutty as a fruitcake and dangerous as a cornered serpent. Those qualities always implied a terrible combination. The worst was that he had been trying to help.

Alvin laughed again and unclenched his fists. The pain stopped. Sweat gathered on Mud's gasping face.

"You won't stop me, Modi. You don't have the guts. And your little dragon-riding entourage will fall soon."

He took large steps, the dragon following with suspicious eyes and fresh stitches. Mud's hands collapsed to his sides, and Alvin grabbed one of them. The ironwood manacles clicked around his small wrists.