Chapter Five
I almost missed breakfast the next morning because I overslept. Well, I did wake up early when my alarm went off, but I dreaded facing the day so much I decided to put it off for a little bit longer and hit the snooze button. Except that, in my dazed fumbling, I accidently switched the alarm off altogether so instead of a five minute reprieve, I fell back asleep for an extra half hour.
I'm not sure what woke me up, but luckily I opened my eyes and checked my phone just in the nick of time.
"Darn!" A rush of adrenaline jolted me fully awake. I leaped out of bed and ran to change from pajamas to a long-sleeved royal blue polo shirt, jeans, and black sneakers.
A short time later I hurried down the stairs and slid into my chair in the dining room. Dad was already there, wearing a suit and tie, which meant that he was planning to go to his office at the City Hall after breakfast. Luckily, he didn't notice that I was running late because he was on the phone. He doesn't like taking calls during meals but as mayor, sometimes he has to.
But as I listened, I quickly realized that he wasn't talking to anyone from his City Hall office, but to Gobber.
"This isn't a good time for me to leave, Gobber. I've got a meeting next week about the zoning five proposition and—" Dad broke off for a moment, then asked. "Well, what about Dullnut Thorston? He's licensed to operate the ferry, isn't he?"
Dad was silent for a while longer as Gobber spoke. Finally he sighed. "I suppose I could come for a few days, but I'll have to be back by Friday. All right, I've got to get some work done here this morning, but I'll come out this afternoon."
I motioned to him to let me speak, but Dad wasn't paying attention. He never does, unless of course, it's one of the times when I don't want him to notice me, and then he's breathing right down my neck. One of Murphy's Laws, I suppose.
"I wanted to speak to Gobber," I said as Dad switched his phone off and laid it beside his plate.
"It's not a good time, Hiccup. He's very busy," Dad spoke shortly, but then he looked at me and seemed to relent a little. His tone was a slightly less brusque as he said, "We'll have him over for dinner as soon as he comes back from Dragon Island."
I mentioned that our family has invested money in lots of different things. Well, Dragon Island is one of those things, along with finance, technology, and pharmaceuticals.
Dragon Island is the westernmost island in the Archipelago. My Vastley grandparents bought it when Dad was just a kid and built a luxurious sporting lodge there. It's closed during the winter, but from April through October, it does a thriving business. Corporations hold retreats there. Wealthy tourists come to hunt, fish, hike, and take boat tours around the Archipelago. There's even the occasional wedding. Mom and Dad were married at the little church on Berk, but they spent part of their honeymoon on Dragon Island.
Normally the Dragon Island Lodge runs itself pretty well. There is a concierge, sporting guides, and a ferry boat captain who manage everything. They and the housekeeping staff live in little cottages on Dragon Island during the months that the Lodge is open and return to their home islands for the winter. Other than the visitors and staff, Dragon Island is un-inhabited.
Despite its name, even the wild dragons stay away, which seems odd. It's the only island in the whole Archipelago where they have never been seen. The island gets its name from a large mountain—really an extinct volcano-on its northern side. There's a sharp craig near the top that juts out and looks a little like a Monstrous Nightmare's head.
Interestingly enough, it was once a huge dragon nest. The volcano's interior is rimmed with ledges and caves where all types of dragons used to live. They've found some fossilized remains and old dragon scales and teeth and claws there. I've seen it because once when Dad and I were staying at the Lodge, we went along with a tour that hiked to the rim and let people look down inside.
"Why is Gobber on Dragon Island?" I asked.
I'm not sure what Gobber's official title is, but he is Dad's right hand man and oversees all of our financial investments and projects. But he rarely goes to Dragon Island. When he travels, it's to Oslo, London, and New York City.
Dad was checking something on his phone as he ate a piece of toast. "Hmm? Oh, the Lodge is full and apparently the new ferry boat captain can't work a week without taking time off. I asked Gobber to cover the boat tours while the concierge is looking for a replacement."
He set down his toast and gave me his full attention for a change. "It looks like I'm needed there too, for a few days. Now the concierge is sick and Gobber can't do it all. He needs someone else who can pilot the ferry for the tourists."
"Why does it have to be you?"
"Hiccup, you know it's the busiest time of year for the fishermen. I can't send anyone from Vastley-Jorgenson. And a lot of people here have boats, but apparently not many are licensed to operate a commercial ferry," Dad explained.
"You're going this afternoon?"
"Well, you heard me," Dad replied. "I'll go over in the Dragonfly as soon as I can get away from the office."
The Dragonfly is our speedboat. Or maybe it's more like a smaller yacht. It's a medium-sized boat, sleek and silver, with an inside lounge and several cabins. Mom and Dad bought it right after they married. Mom named it, in case you hadn't guessed.
"Are you going through Helheim's Gate?" I couldn't help sounding anxious, though I knew Dad would think I was being silly. Helheim's Gate is a very tricky area of the sea to navigate, with lots of sea stacks close together and strong winds and currents. You can go around it to get to Dragon Island, but that is out of the way and adds a couple hours to the journey.
"I've sailed through the Gate many times, Hiccup. You're over-reacting." Sure enough, Dad sounded annoyed.
But then he studied me and spoke more quietly, "Are you really worried?"
I nodded. Dad and I may not be close, but he's still my dad and I love him.
"All right. I'll take the long route." Dad still sounded a little annoyed at my cowardly paranoia, but at least he wouldn't be going through Helheim's Gate.
He pushed his plate back and stood up.
"Will you call me when you get there?" I had to ask.
"Hiccup, you're being ridiculous." Dad turned to leave, then glanced back at me. "I'll call you this evening and I'll be back by noon on Friday. Now, be good and don't get into any trouble."
At the door, he added crossly, "And hurry up. You're going to be late for the Center."
Ugh. Somehow I had almost forgotten. My porridge and fruit didn't seem nearly as appetizing anymore. I took a slice of buttered toast with me and nibbled at it half-heartedly as I got my red and black bicycle from the old carriage house set a short ways from the manor.
I was also mad at myself because I had planned to be at the Center early. Then maybe Phlegma or Sven could have assigned some task to me and I could have already been hidden away working by the time the other kids showed up. But thanks to my oversleeping, that idea was ruined.
Well, if I couldn't be early, maybe I should be late and let the other kids be busy doing something by the time I arrived. So I took my time cruising along the narrow road that led to the Wildlife Center. Rugged green fields lay on either side of the road, with the occasional hedgerow separating them. The gray ocean, tipped with whitecaps, lay beyond the fields to my right while dark fir trees stood in the distance towards my left.
It was picturesque, in a lonely, bleak sort of way, and as I was approaching the turn-off for the Center, a golden eagle took wing from the firs and soared across the pale sky. It was so breath-taking that I had to stop and watch for a minute as it glided towards the sea. It rose higher and higher until it was just a dot, and then rocketed back towards the earth. I lost sight of it as it dove back into the trees. After a moment I moved on, but the image of the dark bird soaring with such speed and precision stayed with me, and once again, I wondered what would happen when Toothless could fly.
Of course he would want to. Even ground-bound as I was, I could feel the pull of that magical freedom. But I hoped against hope that he would decide to live in the cove where I could still visit him every day.
Reluctantly I turned down the drive towards the Center with its low stone buildings and walled enclosures.
I was almost ten minutes late, but unfortunately, Sven and Phlegma were running even later. Even more unfortunately, all the other kids were there, hanging out in the small parking lot, and they were bored and ready for something to do.
There was Sly, of course, and his two favorite sidekicks, Ruffnut and Tuffnut Thorston. They're real names are Rica and Tyr, but they've been called Ruffnut and Tuffnut since infancy. It's appropriate. Their mother always jokes that they were born hitting each other and I believe it. The only thing they like better than fighting with each other is fighting with someone else. Even though they are a boy and a girl, they look very much alike. They both have shaggy, shoulder-length blond hair and blue eyes and they're about the same height. They're actually not much taller than me, and they're skinny too, but unlike me, they're athletic-skinny, not just scrawny.
Fishlegs Ingerman was there too. He's a tall, heavyset kid, also blond, and probably the closest thing to a friend that I have among the group. Which simply means that he doesn't join Sly and the twins when they bully me, and on the very rare occasions when he and I have been together without the other kids around, he will strike up a conversation with me. He's pretty smart and kind of funny too. But he's not about to risk his place in the group by sticking up for me. I learned that a long time ago.
And then there's Astrid Hofferson, the most beautiful girl in the world. At least, I think so. But she really is very pretty. She has long, thick blonde hair which she often wears in a braid down her back. (Yes, there are a lot of fair-haired people on Berk. Those Viking genes must be pretty dominant. But what else would you expect from Vikings, right?)
Astrid has beautiful blue eyes and she's my height exactly. She's very slender, but like the twins, she's fit and toned. She plays football like Aunt Hilley, and studies tae kwon do, too. She's smart and likes to read. At least, I think she does. Whenever I see her, I've noticed that she always has a book with her. Not just silly teen romances either, but serious books like 'Far From The Madding Crowd' by Thomas Hardy and a book of poetry by Tennyson.
Sly likes her too. About a year ago, when I had to spend a day over at his house, he took off with the twins and left me sitting alone in his room all afternoon (which was actually fine by me). But he either forgot or didn't care that there were several sheets of paper on his desk where he was writing love poems to Astrid. And no, I did not snoop through his desk. They really were just lying there. Also, no, I have never mentioned them to Sly. That would be more than my life is worth.
But when I need a laugh, I do remember those lines about Astrid's-
"Hair so yellow, Blowing in the wind, so mellow."
Even if I hadn't seen the poetry, I would know about Sly's crush because he flirts so often-and so badly-with her. I figured that was that, because Sly is exactly the kind of Big Man On Campus (around here I guess it would be more like the Big Man In The Village) that many girls seem to like. Plus, Sly always gets whatever he wants, but surprisingly, from what I can tell, Astrid doesn't seem interested in Sly that way. She seems to ignore the flirting and once when Sly tried to hold her hand, she shut that down right away.
I know better than to hope for anything though. She's gorgeous and I'm just a scrawny kid who looks several years younger than I am. What girl in her right mind would like me when Sly is around?
Astrid pretty much ignores me, anyway. But I guess that's better than her mocking me.
Anyway, they were all there, Berk's rising freshman class, wearing hoodies or long-sleeved T-shirts and jeans, when I coasted into the parking lot and came to a stop.
Sly, the twins, and I eyed one another while Fishlegs looked uncomfortable and Astrid just looked bored.
I wished Toothless was there to back me up.
"Why are you here?" Ruffnut demanded after a moment.
"Your dad finally decide to donate you to the Wildlife Center?" Tuffnut spoke at the same time.
Honestly, that just sounded dumb to me, but Sly and the twins laughed uproariously.
"Hilarious," I remarked dryly. I shrugged. "I'm volunteering like you guys."
I went to park my bike near the wall by the dragon pen. Sly followed me. "Better be careful around here, Useless. You might end up as dragon food."
He gave me a shove and I stumbled against the wall, which is about three feet high. Then somehow, I fell over it and into the sunken dragon enclosure below. I had a glimpse of Sly's horrified face as he realized that I was falling. He lounged to grab me, but it was too late. The next thing I knew I was lying on my back on the ground, struggling to breathe, while dark spots danced before my eyes.
I was vaguely aware of panicked shouts and I think someone was calling my name, but all I could concentrate on was fighting to draw breath into my lungs. For a minute I wondered if I were dying, but then slowly, breathing became easier and the dark spots began to clear.
Except that then I realized I was looking up at a circle of curious dragon faces. The dragons hadn't been in sight when I had arrived at the Center, but apparently they had been close enough to hear me fall and had come running. So now I was surrounded by four large dragons, the Nadder, the Gronckle, the Nightmare, and the two-headed Zippleback.
If you're going to kill me, please do it quickly.
But as soon as the thought crossed my mind, I realized that they weren't threatening me. Four pairs of big yellow eyes watched me curiously, even sympathetically. Even the Nightmare didn't look hostile, though perhaps a little wary.
I suddenly wanted to speak with them, reassure them that I was all right, thank them for the concern that I could see in their expressions. But although my breathing had eased a little, I didn't think I could speak yet.
Then I heard other voices among the kids' quick frightened tones—Sven and Phlegma had finally arrived. There was a sharp exclamation and a moment later Phlegma and the kids were leaning over the wall, pouring buckets of fish and rocks into the enclosure, while Sven hurried to let himself inside the entrance, and slowly approached.
"Hiccup, don't move. Just lie still." His voice was quiet but commanding. "Hoi there, you beasts, go on and get your breakfast."
But the dragons didn't move. They stayed close around me, almost as if they were protecting me.
"Could you tranquilize them?" Fishlegs actually sounded a little worried.
"No," Phlegma answered quietly. "It would take a while to be effective, and it would agitate them in the meantime."
"It's all right," I managed to rasp. I sat up very slowly, not wanting to spook the dragons and because I wasn't sure if I had gotten hurt in my fall. But it seemed that I hadn't broken any bones or seriously injured myself, though I was a little sore. I guessed I'd have my share of scrapes and bruises.
I looked around at the dragons and spoke softly to them. "Thanks, guys. But you can go on. I'm all right."
One by one, the dragons stepped even closer and sniffed at me. I could feel their warm breath and if I had raised my hand just a few inches, I could have touched them. But I was frozen—with fear, with awe? I wasn't completely sure.
Then they moved away towards their food and Sven hurried to my side. "Are you all right? Can you walk?"
I could, and we moved cautiously to the entrance door, which led to the downstairs of one of the stone buildings. Phlegma came hurrying in from the parking lot, with the other teens behind her. They stood awkwardly by the stairs while Phlegma and Sven quickly examined me—taking my pulse, checking my eyes to see if my pupils were dilated—that kind of thing.
When they were satisfied that I wasn't dying, Sven ran a hand through his dark hair and exclaimed roughly, "What in the hell happened?"
There was an uneasy silence until I finally said quietly, "I fell."
Sven shook his head. "How? What the hell were you doing-?"
But Phlegma looked from me to the other kids and I think she suspected that there was more to the story.
She interrupted Sven. "All right. That's enough, Sven. I'm sure they'll all be more careful. Why don't you give the other kids here a quick tour and assign them their tasks? Hiccup, do you think you need to see Dr. Gothburg?"
"No," I said firmly. "I'm fine now. Just had the breath knocked out of me for a minute."
Phlegma considered for a moment before agreeing. "Well, you let me or Sven know if you start to feel bad. I want you to take things easy this morning. Why don't you organize the brochures and work in the gift shop?"
Organizing the brochures took about ten minutes, tops, and then I spent the rest of the morning sitting at the cash register in the gift shop, which was both ridiculously easy and boring since no one came in there at all.
Astrid was assigned to act as the receptionist at the front desk on the other side room—another rather pointless job as there were absolutely no guests or phone calls, but I suppose someone needed to be there just in case.
She glanced my way a couple times and once I thought she might say something, but she never did and after this morning's spectacle, I was much too embarrassed to even look at her so we both sat in silence for two hours.
That wasn't awkward at all.
Phlegma worked with Fishlegs, showing him to wrap bandages and splints while the twins went with Sven as he fed and checked all the outside animals. Sly was assigned to cleaning cages. I have to admit that I felt a certain smug satisfaction over that.
Finally it was noon and we were free to leave. Once we were outside, Ruffnut and Tuffnut immediately yelled, "Yeah, freedom!" and began punching each other in the shoulder, until Tuffnut hit Ruffnut harder than normal and she got angry and chased him down the lane.
"I'm starving," Fishlegs moaned.
"We could go to Agnar's for lunch," Astrid suggested.
Agnar's Café is in downtown Berk and has the best fish and chips in the whole Archipelago.
"Yes, Agnar's!" Fishlegs exclaimed happily. He and Astrid followed after the twins, still chatting about lunch and their afternoon plans.
Sly hestitated and then spoke to me. "Um, Hiccup, you want to come with us?"
For just a second, my heart leaped. Maybe working with the other kids here wouldn't be so bad. We were older, maybe if we got to know each other…
But then he continued, "And about, you know, this morning…there's no reason to say anything to Uncle Stoick, right?"
Oh.
So that's what this unexpected invitation was about. I was suddenly so angry I wanted to punch him in the nose, but instead I just glared and said coldly, "If Dad hears about it, it'll be from them."
I jerked my thumb back at the building where Sven and Phlegma were inside. "You don't have to buy my silence. I'm not a snitch like you."
I jumped on my bike and rode off in the opposite direction. Who needed them anyway? I had Toothless, after all, and he was a million times better than any of them!
So the tears that blurred my vision and slipped down my cheeks were just from the sharp breeze that blew.
Definitely.
Author's Notes: The Dragon Island mentioned here is the same Dragon Island where the Red Death's nest once was, but in modern times it is a much more beautiful place. Camusericht Lodge in Perthshire, Scotland is the inspiration for the Dragon Island Lodge.
In reality, I doubt that a very wealthy owner like Stoick (or Gobber who is also very high in the hierarchy) would be working at the Lodge themselves, but it matches the first film where Stoick took off looking for the dragon's nest, plus Stoick is an outdoorsy, hands-on type so he would probably enjoy running the ferry boat and helping at the Lodge. Gobber didn't have to twist his arm too hard.
For Ruffnut and Tuffnut's 'real' names, I searched for Scandinavian names—a girl's name that began with an R and a boy's name that began with a T. I ended up liking Rica and Tyr for them. But I don't know that it really matters, since they'll always be called by their nicknames.
Finally, Phlegma and Sven are not responsible adults here. They should have insisted that Hiccup see a doctor, whether he wanted to or not.
In real life, anyone who has a serious fall needs to get medical attention right away. They could have a head or an internal injury that might not be obvious at first, but could still be life-threatening.
To all my readers, thank you so much! Please review!
