Hiccup was lying on something soft. A breeze rifled through his sweat-slick bangs, feeling blessedly cool against his fevered skin. Water bubbled gently nearby, the idyllic sound accompanied by the comforting crackle of a fire. A heady, earthy smell filled his nostrils. He opened his eyes, then squeezed them shut against the sunlight. Blinking rapidly to adjust his eyes to the light, he took in the scene around him.
He was sprawled on thick, spongey grass and damp soil. The blades of grass in front of his face were tipped with the last of the morning dew, shimmering in the sunlight like glass. Beyond that, there was a small dip in the landscape, where a creek ran. The water murmured through the rocks. Birds sung. And in the distance, the ocean waves whispered their endless secrets.
Hiccup scrunched up his face. Where was he? This was, at least, not Valhalla; the absence of feasting halls and the presence of his pain and sickness spoke to that. Groaning, he tried to sit up and failed, collapsing back onto his elbows. He panted a few breaths then tried again, managing it this time. He scanned the surrounding landscape with bewildered curiosity. To his left, the land rose sharply upward on a mountainous incline, the grass and occasional pine giving way to speckled phaneritic rock. To his right, a tree branch crackled merrily in flames, black smoke billowing high into the sky. Past the makeshift campfire, the land sloped down to some unseen destination.
"Toothless?" Hiccup croaked, surveying the landscape again. His dragon was nowhere to be seen. Bracing his hands against the supple grass, Hiccup shoved himself to his knees, and then, with effort, stood. He swayed precariously for a heart-stopping moment as the world grayed. When his vision faded back to normal, he shuffled towards the slope of the hill.
The gentle slope ended abruptly nearby, falling off to a wide plateau below. Hiccup could see a village with half its houses blackened by ash, a great wall erected in the middle. The village. Knowing they were still on the island brought Hiccup both weariness and relief. It would feel amazing to leave this island behind, if they could make it that far, but there were things he needed to take care of first.
Turning away from the cliff, Hiccup stumbled to the creek. He dropped to his knees at the water's edge and glanced upstream to follow the creek's path as far as he could. It came down from the snowy mountaintop, pristine waters filtering down through volcanic rock. Clean. Pure. Uncontaminated. Bless Toothless for taking him here. He bent down and drank from the stream, relishing the icy cold against the smoldering heat within him.
The rush of wings made him look up, and he smiled. Toothless swooped low, fish heads and tails sticking out of his mouth, and landed lightly beside the fire. He spilled his catch out onto the earth, then bounded over to Hiccup with an ecstatic warble.
"Hey, bud," Hiccup greeted happily, allowing himself to fall against his dragon in a hug. Toothless never minded bearing his weight. Hiccup ran his hands over his dragon's dry scales; the ocean water had slid off them at the speed of his flight. Hiccup scratched beneath Toothless' chin where he liked it. "Thank you."
Toothless crooned a response, then positioned himself to help Hiccup to the fireside. Once there, he nosed a fish towards his rider.
"Thanks," Hiccup said again. His heartbeat fluttered, and he swallowed uneasily. "I'm not really hungry," he said, "but I guess I should eat something." He glanced around for the nearest tree stand, then gestured towards it. "Hey, bud, would you mind getting me a stick?" he asked. "You know, for cooking?"
Toothless warbled obligingly and padded over to the tree stand. After a few seconds of rooting around, he came back with a long stick in his mouth.
"Thanks, bud." Hiccup took the stick from him and pulled the dagger from his clothes. He set the edge of the blade against the bark and swallowed. His heart still paced strangely, the fire within him continued to burn, and the weight of dread settled immovably in his stomach. But he had enough strength for this. He curled his fingers around the handle of the dagger, then swept the blade down the wood with a trembling hand, watching the bark curl away and fall to the grass. He rotated the stick and repeated the cycle until a sharpened edge appeared. He speared it through the fish, set it up carefully over the fire, then sat back to wait.
Toothless gulped down his own breakfast, swallowing fish and eyeing Hiccup between each one.
Hiccup gave him a small smile. "Don't worry, bud," he said. "I'm not giving up. I'm gonna figure out what this is, and how to cure it." He reached out and stroked Toothless, listening to the gentle island breeze, the crackling flames, the low sizzle of the fish over the fire. Bass, he noted belatedly. It made him think of Tuffnut's infamous salt-crusted sea bass, and he smiled. Something in his heart twanged, and he wasn't sure if it was the disease or the sudden stab of emotion, but he missed them. He missed all of them, and all of the crazy shenanigans that came with them, all of the best things, all of the worst. He missed the twins' hilarious quips and their reckless irresponsibility. Snotlout's fierce loyalty and his aggressive displays of insecurity. Fishlegs' thoughtful insight and his fearful hesitation. And Astrid.
He wished they had found some Terrors on this island so he could have sent her a message, just to let her know he was alive. For now, at least. He wished she had some way of knowing, some way of understanding that he was thinking about her. That when he brushed sawdust off the table he recalled brushing her hair out of her face. That when he sat beside the fire he missed her beside him. That the braids in his hair were beginning to come undone again, and that he wanted them fixed–that he wanted the visible impression of Astrid's presence.
Hiccup sighed and clenched his fists. "We're going to get out of this, bud," he said. Toothless stared back at him and nodded, eyes narrowing slightly in shared determination. "I'm gonna beat this, whatever it takes," Hiccup said. He pulled his fish off the fire and forced himself to eat while his mind spun through plans and back-up plans. "We'll head back down to the village before we leave," he said. "I want to take the healer's notes with us. They're our best chance for figuring this out. And we'll need to block that well, of course. We don't want anyone else doing what we did. Once we've taken care of that, we can finally get out of here. Hopefully." He glanced at Toothless' tail, curled behind him. "Can I check your fin, bud?"
Toothless swung his tail over to Hiccup, who pulled it into his lap. The prosthetic tail fin was canvassed with the fabric they had found in the ruined forge. Fragile though it was, Hiccup had doubled and even tripled it in places to give it added strength against the wind, and had sewn it with careful attention. He ran his fingers along the stitches. They still held. But the fabric was damp from the ocean, crusted with a thin layer of salt from the evaporated salt water. It rubbed away under his fingertips, grains accumulating beneath his nails. He pressed against the fabric; it yielded only slightly. It was more brittle now, less flexible. He frowned. "I guess your fishing run didn't do your tail any favors."
Toothless crooned apologetically.
"Don't feel bad, bud. You did what you had to do." Hiccup released his dragon's tail and rubbed his scales instead. "I just hope it'll hold long enough to get us out of here." He inhaled sharply as pain shot through his chest again. He said nothing aloud, but inwardly he wondered whether he himself could hold long enough to leave. He gritted his teeth. Of course he could. He must.
He laid his partially eaten fish on the ground and closed his eyes against his rising light-headedness. He placed his hand against Toothless' scales and anchored himself to the inhales and exhales of his dragon. To the powerful beat of wings against the sky. To the steady twisting of Astrid's fingers as she braided his hair, her breath warm against his neck. To the ebb and flow of the tides on the shores of Dragon's Edge. To his father's heavy footsteps as he led him through Berk. To the rhythmic pinging of the hammer and the anvil in Gobber's forge.
When he felt steadied, he opened his eyes. The fire burnt low, radiating heat. Toothless remained beside him, waiting patiently. Hiccup let out a long breath. "You ready, bud?"
Toothless rumbled affirmatively and stood.
Hiccup clambered atop the saddle, short of breath. Then he laid a hand on Toothless' broad head. "Okay," he said. "Let's do this."
Toothless unfurled his wings with an audible rustle, then they launched into the late morning sun.
…
A ripping sound rent the air. Toothless roared in alarm.
"Oh, gods." Hiccup whirled in the saddle, staring at Toothless' tail fin as they soared above the island, nearing the village. The fabric was beginning to tear; a streak of the forest below them was visible in the slender gap that streaked through the canvas. "No, no, no," Hiccup muttered, eyes fixed on the fabric. "Please hold. Please hold." As Hiccup watched, the tear grew, and they lost altitude immediately, Toothless roaring again.
Hiccup glanced up front. They were close to the village. So close, and yet not quite there. "Faster, bud," Hiccup said, his voice raspy with sickness and strain. "We gotta make it." He turned to watch the fabric, his heart racing in his chest, thready and fast. "Stay together," he whispered, watching the fabric flutter in the wind. "Stay together." His fingers scrabbled against the saddle as a wave of weakness washed through him, and he felt himself slip a little. When the feeling passed, he righted himself and clasped the saddle with all the strength he could muster. He watched the fabric flicker. "Stay together."
Toothless roared. Hiccup looked ahead. They were on the edge of the village. Hope swept through him in a dizzying rush. "Land! Land!" he cried.
Toothless dived.
The tail fin ripped.
Hiccup screamed as they plummeted, his shouts intermingling with Toothless' panicked roars. They were heading straight for one of the unburnt houses near the center of the village, standing solid and unrelenting.
"No! No!" Hiccup jarred his prosthetic leg, clicking the gears of Toothless' prosthetic fin. Toothless dipped his wings in an attempt to swerve. But both of their efforts were fruitless.
"Toothless!" Hiccup gripped the saddle with both hands and clenched his eyes shut, bracing for impact.
Toothless slammed into the roof of the house, splintering wood with a bone-shattering crunch and sending debris in every direction. Hiccup held tight, but his fingers, slick with sweat, slid off the polished leather, and he was propelled forward, out of the house and into the village square.
…
Noises faded through the high-pitched ringing in Hiccup's ears. Crashing. Draconic roars. The low creaking of wood.
Hiccup opened his eyes slowly. The world was a blur of muffled sound and muted pain. A spasm ran through his fingers. His breaths were hitched, stabbing. The sounds in the background continued on, meaninglessly.
He blinked. Blinked again. The world began to slide into focus. His breathing grew louder in his ears. Then the world snapped back into place, sharp and clear. He was lying on his back on the hard ground, staring at the cobbled stones that made up the village well. Toothless was roaring from somewhere nearby.
"Tooth–?" Hiccup's voice cut off abruptly, his breath ripped away by the pain as he tried to sit up. He fell back onto the earth, his breath returning in gasps. Bad idea.
He laid there for a while, shouldering the pain, forcing his breaths into a more even tempo as he watched the clouds drift overhead. He sat up more slowly this time, fingers digging into the dirt. The ruined house was just in front of him, its roof caved in, collapsed beams pressing against the windows. Toothless roared in panic from within, stuck. Boards clattered as the dragon writhed in his frantic attempts to escape.
There was a flash of brilliant purple as Toothless fired a plasma blast; more debris crashed inside the house. He was making his way out. Hiccup sighed quietly in relief, then turned to consider the well beside him. The well responsible for the death of an entire village. He could imagine the people gathering the water, unsuspecting. Chatting happily with their empty jars, buckets, and barrels. Children running around, laughing.
Hiccup closed his eyes beneath a sudden onslaught of sickness. Het let himself fall back to the ground again while he waited for it to pass. Toothless fired another plasma blast.
Feeling marginally better, Hiccup opened his eyes and stared at the well, waiting for Toothless to come to him. Something caught in his throat. How tragic, what had happened here. How horrible the disease that had gotten into the water.
Hiccup frowned, his brows knitting together as the examined the well-built structure, the sturdy wooden roof that covered it. How had the disease gotten in to begin with? It looked like the well was the only access point to the underground reservoir; they hadn't come across any places with groundwater drainage on the island, as far as they could tell. So how had the disease gotten into the well?
"Gotten in," he repeated aloud. He sat up, struck by a sudden thought.
Another plasma blast sounded, and Toothless came crashing out of the house at last. He bounded towards his rider immediately, warbling his distress. Hiccup watched him as he came, glad to see that his dragon was moving smoothly and naturally. Unharmed.
"'M okay, bud," Hiccup murmured as Toothless reached him and began to sniff him searchingly. Hiccup patted Toothless' head absentmindedly, still considering the well. "Help me up," he said.
Toothless nosed his head beneath Hiccup's arm and helped his rider to his feet. Hiccup stood, leaning heavily on his dragon. Then he tested his balance, taking his own weight. He didn't fall. He started towards the rim of the well.
Toothless beat him to it, placing himself between Hiccup and the well, growling quietly.
Hiccup gave him a wan half-smile. "I appreciate the concern, bud," he said, "but I've already got the disease. I just… I have a hunch, and I want to check it out."
Toothless grumbled his displeasure, but allowed Hiccup to pass.
"Remember how I told you that when the villagers first started getting sick, they thought it had come from the visiting tribe? And they burnt all the things the other tribe had brought, but it did nothing?" Hiccup leaned on the edge of the well as Toothless grunted a response.
"But since we realized the disease was spreading through the water, I started to wonder whether the visiting tribe had brought it after all. But this also didn't quite make sense, because the visiting tribe appeared healthy when they left, remember?" He gestured at his dragon conversationally, still leaning over the well and peering down into the darkness. "But then I remembered what the healer had written about the visiting tribe earlier–that their visit had ended in disaster. Originally, the two tribes planned to form an alliance, but the proceedings had gone badly, and the tribe had left in dire circumstances, with the two tribes on the brink of war. And that got me thinking, maybe they did bring this after all."
Hiccup waved Toothless over to the well. His dragon padded over and copied Hiccup's stance, his two front legs braced against the rim of the well. Hiccup motioned into the watery depths. "Can you do your thing, bud?" he asked.
Toothless rumbled quizzically but complied, roaring into the depths of the well, sending sonic waves into the darkness.
"Is there anything down there?" Hiccup asked.
Toothless crooned affirmatively, and Hiccup grinned.
"Aha!" A new, manic energy began to build within him and he rubbed his hands together, staring into the well eagerly. "Light," he said. "I need light." He turned to Toothless and rummaged through the saddle bag, pulling out his sword. He held it above the well and ignited it. The firelight filtered down into the darkness, illuminating the edges of the well, the mismatched rocks that stood out in places, little ledges along the wall. "Perfect!" Hiccup's hoarse voice echoed back to them as he lowered his sword deeper into the well, searching the protruding edges, eyes alight with heightened awareness.
"There!" he said. What looked like a piece of formed clay was resting on the surface of a protruding rock. "Now, how do I get it?" Hiccup asked aloud.
Toothless grumbled warily.
"No, I'm not gonna try to climb in there, bud." Hiccup placated his dragon with a wave of his hand. He bit his lip and scanned their surroundings. There were trees at the edges of the village. Hiccup pointed to them. "Toothless, can you grab me a branch?" he asked. "Quickly!" he urged, as Toothless ran off. Then he turned and rummaged through the saddle bag again, pulling out a length of rope. His leg gave out as he pivoted back to the well; he fell against the side of it, panting. He righted himself and unrolled the length of rope as Toothless returned, a branch in his mouth.
"Excellent." Hiccup laid the rope on the rim of the well and took the branch from Toothless. He produced his dagger and dug the point into the branch, twisting sharply. "I had this vague suspicion, but the pieces didn't fall into place until just now." Hiccup continued his frenzied rant, digging into the wood with fervor. "I wondered, why did the disease kill everyone?" Sap began to pool at the tip of the blade. "Not one single person in the whole village was immune? What were the chances of that?" Hiccup dug deeper, breathing heavily, and stopped when the sap began to flow in earnest, trickling slowly out of the hole in the tree, thick and glistening in the sunlight. "And combined with the question of how the disease got into the well in the first place," he said, dabbing at the sap with his fingertip, "I had a thought. An idea." He pulled his hand away. The sap clung to his finger like glue. Hiccup made another triumphant sound and, as Toothless watched curiously, dipped one end of the rope in the sticky sap.
"Okay, now hold this here, bud," he said, angling his sword against the rim of the well so that the light reached the clay object below.
Toothless placed a paw on the hilt of the sword, holding it in place.
"Thanks." Hiccup lowered the sticky end of the rope into the well, hands trembling in eagerness, or sickness, or both. He lowered it until the sap-covered end touched the clay object on its rocky shelf. He let out a slow breath. "Come on." He began to raise the rope carefully. The sap stuck to the light object, and pulled it towards the surface.
Hiccup's heart thrummed in his chest as he raised the rope with precise movements, his stomach roiling in nervous anticipation. "This might be the evidence that proves my theory," he said. One end of the clay unstuck from the sap, and the object tilted precariously on the end of the rope. Hiccup held his breath, continuing to raise it.
The end of the rope drew even with the top of the well, and Hiccup swung the rope carefully over the side. He breathed a sigh of relief when the object was safely outside the well. He snagged it off the end of the rope, sticky with sap. His knees buckled beneath him and he fell back against the side of the well.
Toothless roared quietly in concern. He appeared at Hiccup's side, his rider's sword held carefully between his teeth. He dropped it on the ground and pressed his face against Hiccup's.
"I'm okay, bud," Hiccup said automatically, though they both knew he wasn't. He turned the object over in his hands. It was part of a clay pot, the outside painted in colors Hiccup recognized. "These are the visiting tribe's colors," Hiccup breathed, showing Toothless the paint. He recalled them from the healer's notes. "That means I was right!" His heart jolted, a sense of pride at proving his hunch correct mixing with the crashing dread of the pursuant implications. "Oh, gods. I was right," he whispered, voice empty and hollow.
"The visiting tribe left with wrath in their hearts. These villagers expected a war," he said, shaking his head, "but they didn't know–they'd already lost it." Hiccup held the clay piece up with shaking fingers. "This is why everyone died. It wasn't a disease–that would have killed only some of the tribe." He shook his head. "The visiting tribe threw this pot and its contents in the well before they left, knowing they were dooming the entire village."
Hiccup closed his eyes, pained and weary. "So you see, I was right," he said. "It's not a disease. It's poison."