Chapter 1
Welcome to Berk
Why is it always about boys?
That's what Hiccup wanted to know; it was all her dad wanted to talk about these days. No matter where the conversation started, he'd eventually start wondering if anyone had caught her eye. Eventually he realized no one on the island interested her, and so he started listing foreign men.
Today it was Gregor, the heir of Forlorn Point and son of Chief Sorge. But she had never even met him! Even after attending a political visit to Forlorn Point with her dad — an entire, week long visit! — she had never seen the man. He was 'out hunting' the entire time. Besides, he was at least a decade older than her. But that didn't stop her dad from suggesting sending an invitation to the Bork Week Festival.
So, to escape the heated house, she made up a need to prepare for the festival and took to the cool skies astride her warm, jet marble Night Fury. She drowned out those thoughts with the familiar scent of warm scales and faint, Night Fury musk — she forgot about her father, about men, about everything. It was just her and Toothless.
Her dragon's shoulder twitched back and, without thought, she shifted the pedal under her foot, loosening the line and closing the sail of his prosthetic ever so slightly. It had only taken the span of a heartbeat and within a few more there was another twitch; his other shoulder forward, and she twisted the pedal under her own prosthetic; his fin banked just a bit. Every twitch, every move, was automatic and natural.
She leaned forward, pressing her chest against his shoulders. He bent into a dive at her request, and the expanse of blue in front of her was replaced by a sea of green. The wind bit her face and whipped her hair. The shrill scream of a Night Fury split the sky like thunder and warned all below that a Night Fury is coming.
They dove further and further, faster and faster. She squinted against the gale, tears beading at the corners of her eyes. Closer and closer, the pointed treetops grew from splinters, to pencils, to axe handles, but she held him on course. Just a little more.
She waited until the last possible moment — a touch more — and pulled. She twisted the pedals; his wings splayed and caught the wind. She was thrown into his back and the wide field of green needles sank into a carpet below her. It had been close, almost too close.
A tree appeared before them, just a bit taller than the rest. She shifted her weight to the side, twisted the pedals, and Toothless banked around the tree. Another one, taller than the last, was now in the way. She shifted to the other side, and he banked back. There was a thrash of leaves as his wing clipped the treetop. Too close!
But she didn't pull up. She had to be close. She had a stunt for the festival, and there was no margin for error. She and her dragon had to be perfect. They were perfect. He was all she needed. She didn't need some boy. She just needed Toothless.
Another tree. She fixated on it, her eyes narrowed. It was the right height. Not as tall as the last, but taller than the first. It was just high enough off the surrounding trees, a little higher than a raid torch would be over the surrounding buildings.
She pushed Toothless to keep a straight course, and he kept straight; this wasn't the first time they'd done this. She crouched down into the saddle, he beat his wings to go faster.
Closer —
A little twist, a bit of a turn, and they were lined up with the trunk. If they continued on like this they'd collide headlong.
Just a bit more —
If she failed the stunt she'd be thrown off for sure, safety harness or no. The tree loomed, from a handle it became an axle. She'd show her dad that being a Dragon Master was all she needed. She'd show Gregor, if he came. The tree was almost on top of her. She grit her teeth and waited a second more.
— NOW!
She threw her weight hard to the side and pulled on the saddle. The pedals squeaked in protest as she pushed them to their limits. Toothless rolled completely over — he was clear of the tree — she reached overhead, stretching — she grasped for the needles —
THWACK!
A flash of pain erupted in her arm. "AHH!" She gasped and her wrist shot to her chest, cradled by her other hand. Toothless finished the roll and returned upright. Tears stung at her eyes and her wrist throbbed with heat. "Ow, ow, ow, ow."
Toothless looked over his shoulder, his cat-like, gold-green eyes flicking between her face and her arm. He cooed in concern.
She gave him a weak smile. "I'm okay, bud."
It wasn't entirely a lie. The pain had already started to subside and she could flex her fingers. She figured that meant it wasn't broken. But it still throbbed.
She looked around. The tree tops were now far below and Toothless was gliding on the wind. Too high and too slow to try the trick again; they'd have to start over. So she did. She took him high again, and repeated the dive. She chose another tree, pushed him into a roll, and —
— missed the tree entirely.
She let out a frustrated grunt. It's not like she hadn't done the trick before! She remembered the sticky needles poking into her palm and the elation in her heart the first time she managed it. She'd done it a dozen times since. Why was she having trouble now?
"Okay, okay." She drew in a long breath, letting the chilly air bite at her lungs. She held it, closed her eyes, and shook out her hands. The pain had subsided. She let the breath out. "One more try, bud."
Once again they dove, falling faster and faster as the Fury scream grew louder in her ears. She pulled up at the last second — she could swear she heard needles snapping as they rushed by. They banked around the one tree that was too small, then back around the one that was too big.
There it was — the perfect tree. She saw it now as the raid torch, with a basket resting on top. It was that basket she had to grab. She thought of nothing else. She urged Toothless to go faster. His wings beat; the wind lashed at her cheeks, whipped her braid around her back. She focused on the torch and basket in her mind's eye.
Closer —
It grew and filled her view. A twitch in his shoulders, and she twisted the pedals. They were so close.
Just a bit more — NOW!
She threw her weight into the turn. He cleared the tree as always — she reached overhead — and —
Something caught in her hand. She grasped at the sticky, prickly mass and it tore with a snap, leaving behind a shaking tree as they flipped back upright. Her chest swelled as she opened her fist and found the pine needles in her palm.
"Yeah!" She yelled to the heavens, throwing them into the wind. That was a relief! She knew she could do it! But she needed to practice some more. And it was a good excuse to stay in the clouds with her dragon.
The rest of the morning was filled with success after success, leaving the tree looking like it was balding. Soon, a flight of multicolored, pastel dragons swept by just over the foliage. The blue and white Stormfly flew at the point of the rough V-formation of Deadly Nadders. Astrid turned in Stormfly's saddle, watching the formation behind her. An orange and yellow fell too far behind and Astrid yelled something at him; Hiccup guessed she was urging the Nadder forward. While she was distracted, a pink and red on the other side suddenly dove for the forest. Astrid spun around but could do nothing more than throw her hands up in the air.
Hiccup smirked at her friend, but decided not to interrupt her. The last thing Astrid needed was more distractions while she trained an entire flight for Bork Week. So she pulled Toothless around and headed back for Berk. The sun was rather high in the sky by now, and she was getting hungry.
As she passed over the bay, she spotted the rather rotund Fishlegs on the beach with his equally rotund Gronckle, Meatlug. He was surrounded by twenty more of the rocky beasts, all rapt with attention as he smiled and talked. He gestured to a collection of shale and granite behind him and one of them lurched forward, as if to grab a layered sheet of stone. Fishlegs stepped between, stopping the dragon and, still smiling, wiggled a chastening finger.
She passed by and descended on Berk. She'd find out what he was doing tomorrow; the whole Academy was going to meet and exchange tricks. She was glad he was working on it, at least, since she could see Ruffnut and Tuffnut wrestling behind the village in front of a dozen green-and-yellow, two-headed Zipplebacks and a herd of yaks. Ruff got the better of her brother and forced him face first into the mud. She pressed her foot into his back and, even from a few hundred feet up, Hiccup could tell that she was gloating. But he just pulled his face up, shook off the mud, and grinned. He must have said something disparaging, because his twin frowned and pushed his face back into the mud. Barf and Belch, their Zippleback, tilted both of their heads curiously on each of their swaying, serpentine necks.
Hiccup shook her head and looked around for her last rider, but Snotlout was nowhere to be seen. He had eight Monstrous Nightmares to train, in addition to Hookfang. She guessed he was on the far side of the island, trying to keep his trick a secret, or he was napping in the Academy. Both were just as likely.
She looked down at her dragon and frowned. All the others had dozens of their own species — each of her riders had their pick for a flight to take on parade. But Toothless . . . Toothless had no one. She'd never seen another Night Fury. Not since the dragon raids ended. Gods, even during the raids. It was a bad night when even one showed up, they'd never been attacked by two at once. Had it always been just Toothless?
She had kept an eye out. She'd seen thousands of dragons on dozens of islands, even added a few new species to the Book of Dragons, but she'd never seen another Night Fury. Even when all the dragons returned to the nest to lay, Toothless had been alone.
She stroked his shoulder. "I wish we could find some friends for you, bud."
He cooed brightly, then banked and brought them down to the Village Square. He landed in three bounds, folded his wings, and waited. She reached down to unhook her prosthetic from the peddle and slid her foot out of the other strap before jumping down.
She breathed in the odor of fresh fish and the overlapping scaly scents of many dragon species. It was a stench she'd grown fond of. Ahead of them, in the center of the square, stood a giant, round, fish-filled feeding trough surrounded by hungry dragons; from tiny Terrible Terrors, small enough to hang on your shoulder, all the way up to her dad's Thunderdrum, the size of a fully laden cart plus a long spiky tail. It was a complete fracas.
Toothless twisted his head around to look at her and his eyes darted to the trough.
She laughed and slapped his shoulder. "Go on!"
His head whipped around and he coiled up taut like a cat, then sprung into the fray. He shoved aside a Nadder, squeezed between a couple Monstrous Nightmares, and dove his face into the sea of fish. She watched with an amused smile.
A beat of wings buffeted her with wind from behind and the ground crunched under a pair of claws. The dragon cawed and a sharp, scaley odour hit her nose as the Deadly Nadder stepped closer. She turned around and shielded her eyes as she look up at the dragon's rider.
"Hey, Hiccup!" Astrid yelled down. She jumped off of Stormfly's back and slapped the dragon's hindquarters to send her off to feed. She brushed a strand of blonde hair out of her eye. "I'm this close to having my Nadders ready for the parade. How's Toothless doing?"
He stopped eating to look back at Astrid. Hiccup smiled at him, "You've got some moves, don't you bud?" She waved at him to continue, and he returned to the trough. "I think we've got our trick down. We should be good for the festival, even if . . ."
She trailed off and turned back to the fray. Stormfly and a blazing orange Nadder, Scorcher, were play fighting over a trout. It didn't last long before it tore in two, leaving Scorcher with the head and Stormfly with the rest. Stormfly bobbed her head in a Nadder's version of a laugh and Scorcher nuzzled his crest of horns into her jaw.
Hiccup let out a wistful sigh.
Astrid held her shoulder and bent down to meet her eye. "What's wrong?"
"Eh, it's nothing." She shrugged, but Astrid's shoulders went flat. Hiccup's heart slipped a bit. She pulled her auburn braid over her shoulder and started petting it rapidly. "It's just . . . Stormfly has all these Nadders as a family. Meatlug has all the Gronckles. Barf, Belch, Hookfang, even Thornado have theirs . . . but Toothless doesn't have anybody."
He stopped eating again. He tilted his head at her, as if what she said was confusing. Astrid squeezed her shoulder.
"He has you. And he seems happy about that."
Toothless jerked his head as if sniffing the air, and opened his mouth in a toothless smile. She knew that meant he was confirming what Astrid said, but she wasn't convinced. "I know, I know, but — I mean, Stormfly has you. But she also has the other Nadders. Meatlug has Fishlegs and the Gronckles. Hookfang has — well, he has the other Monstrous Nightmares and has been good enough to tolerate Snotlout." Astrid chuckled at that. "But Toothless only has me."
Astrid didn't answer right away. She sighed and followed her look to the feeding trough. They watched Stormfly and Scorcher as the dragons abandoned the trough and chased after one another. Scorcher had grabbed a stick in his mouth — no, a broom — and Stormfly chased after him with her wings spread wide. She cornered him, and they danced for a bit, before she snatched the broom and dashed off, Scorcher now chasing her. The Nadders were enjoying themselves in a way they never did with their riders. Hiccup had to wonder, would Stormfly be just as happy if she only had Astrid?
Astrid steeled herself before standing in front of Hiccup and facing her. "So what're we going to do about it? We've been to all the islands within an afternoon's ride. Do you have any idea where to look?"
Her shoulders slumped. "Well, no."
Hiccup looked around at the decorations around town: shed dragon scales strung up and hanging between buildings, figures of dragons painted in charcoal and kermes, and a few carvings of the stout dragon researcher, Bork, hanging from the eaves. More decorations would be going up in the next few days.
She shook her head. "And with the festival bearing down on us . . ."
"Then we'll look after the festival," Astrid said. "We can head south. You've gone as far as Forlorn Point, right? That takes a whole day."
"Well, I had to keep pace with Thornado," she rolled her eyes. "If it was just Toothless and Stormfly . . . but we can't leave for that long. Not with Alvin out there, threatening Berk."
"Your dad can handle . . ." Astrid trailed off looking over Hiccup's shoulder. Hiccup turned around and followed her gaze to the sky. High above Raven Point were six black dots hanging in a perfect, horizontal line. Astrid pointed.
"What's that?"
