Pre-Author's Ugh Note: If you've read Chapter 3 (One Step Ahead of Disaster) on or after 6/3/11, you can probably skip the following note... unless you really, really want to read it anyway.

Author's Ugh Note: Something has been brought to my attention about the chapter titled "One Step Ahead Of Disaster." There may have been some confusion over one particular section, and I have taken pains to fix this - a new version was uploaded the same day I uploaded this new chapter that hopefully clarifies any remaining issues. But it still bears explaining.

In the section of the chapter concerning the airborne battle with the bone abomination (less than halfway through the chapter, after Hiccup and the others decide to go back and help the green dragon but before the section with Nestor battling the skele-bull), the following ideas were meant to be conveyed:

- The section's perspective was from the green dragon. There were no other perspectives.

- The black dragon mentioned, the one that came to the green dragon's aid, was Toothless. I was hoping that the fact that the black dragon had two riders (you know, Hiccup and Astrid) would be a clue. There were no other dragons.

- The dragon that disappeared at the end of the section was the green dragon.

If I didn't get these three ideas across, then I blew it. I was trying to be clever at the time and not give away anything too early. You don't need to reread the chapter if you've already done so - just know the three plot points above.

Again, if I didn't get this stuff across, that was my fault, and I always strive not to make such mistakes again.

Onward.

Chapter Six: Undertow

Compared to past (and future) shocks, it wasn't even in Hiccup's all-time greatest list. You had to get pretty extreme to top the first time you went airborne while clinging to a dragon's tail or having to face off against a mountain-sized menace. But it was still a big one. Three hundred years of records on dragons, two years of living among them, having a best friend be a dragon…

Nothing, absolutely nothing, about a dragon that could speak like a human.

Considering the magnitude of the revelation, Hiccup felt a bit dismayed that his first response to the dragon's words was: "And now you're talking."

The green dragon rolled its eyes at him. "Fine, fine, get the shock out of the way if you must. But I repeat – what are you doing here?"

Toothless remained on his guard, arching his back and tensed for battle if things went sour. Hiccup backed off from the talking dragon, trying to think of an adequate response to its question. He had played with the idea that the green dragon had been connected to Nestor somehow, but like everything else about that crazy Mainland trip he had had no way to follow up on his ideas. Well, until now.

"Um…. Sorry, we didn't know this was your cave," said Hiccup. "We were looking for somebody else and I thought he came this way."

"Somebody else, right?" said the dragon. It shut its eyes and shook its head, irritated. "Let me guess – black hair, tan skin, semi-indestructible?"

"ARC! ARC!"

The frantic cries echoed into the cave from behind the dragon, the slapping of racing boots on stone following along. "Whoever's in there, don't attack him! And Arc, don't go blasting them either!"

Nestor appeared from around the dragon's bulk, out of breath and panic-stricken. He waved at the group between hurried breaths and said, "Oh, good, no killing going on."

The dragon turned his unhappy gaze on Nestor and said, "You led them here, and you left the cave unattended."

"He was hanging precariously from a tree," defended Nestor, gesturing at Hiccup, "and his dragon barged in and demanded my assistance. I wasn't going to leave him like that. For the record, I did try to lead them away from the cave." He shook his head in dismay. "I shook them off my tail a little too quickly, and our obsidian-scaled friend here has a good memory."

"Night Furies are known for their intelligence," commented the dragon, twisting his head toward Hiccup again. "That is what you call them here, isn't it, Young Hiccup?"

Hiccup was caught off-guard by the dragon's recitation of his name. Then he realized that Nestor had probably told the dragon about him and he relaxed somewhat. "Well, I call him Toothless. But what do we call you? I heard Nestor call you Arc."

"Yes," said Arc, "and for the sake of diplomacy you may call me that as well. My true name is Archibald."

"I told him once that it sounded kind of pompous," said Nestor. "Only time he's ever agreed with me about anything."

"When you stop revealing our locations to bystanders, perhaps it will occur again," said Arc. "Now, Young Hiccup, what did you want with Nestor?"

"I wanted to get some answers from him," said Hiccup, going for the honest approach. "We could start with who you are and what you're doing on our island."

Arc cocked his head, first studying Hiccup for several seconds and then studying Toothless, perhaps to assess how much a threat they might be. Nestor was nervously biting his lip, waiting for Arc's response. But Arc eventually mellowed his gaze and pivoted his body around to face the tunnel leading out. A quick beckoning movement of his tail indicated he wanted everyone else to follow.

Arc led them into the sunlight and stopped a few yards from the cave entrance, turning to face Hiccup and Toothless while Nestor stood at his side. With some actual light to see by, Hiccup picked out the blackened scales that dotted Arc's forest-green torso. Injuries from the bone abomination, no doubt. He was probably still healing from the battle, shedding damaged scales as he grew new ones, which was how most dragons healed up.

"You've given me quite the dilemma, Young Hiccup," said Arc. "It was not our intention to invade your people's sovereign space, but circumstances forced it. Likewise, while normally you would be… detained…as we took our leave, I find myself in your debt for your intervention those many days ago. My protégée and I found ourselves in a rather effective trap, one we would have been hard pressed to survive if not for you. If you wish us to leave your island, we will. And if it is answers you seek, I will give them. However, only knowledge that pertains to your life and longevity will be given."

"Translation: you're on a need-to-know basis," clarified Nestor.

Hiccup was doing his best not to look intimidated by the dragon's sharp gaze and measured words. He wasn't threatened by Arc – even if Toothless wasn't two feet away, he believed Arc meant him no harm. It was more like being in the presence of something profoundly wise and experienced. He got that way around the Village Elder sometimes, especially when she quietly stared at you for minutes on end and made you think your soul was made of runes and that she could read every one of them. Around Arc, that feeling was far worse, like Hiccup was some complex equation that the dragon had solved after only a few seconds of calculation.

One word Arc had said had caught his attention in particular: protégée. No doubt referring to Nestor, Hiccup figured it was another word for apprentice, which didn't make much sense. What kind of skill or trade could a dragon teach a human? Certainly not flying lessons. Then again, what kind of dragon talked?

"I… uh…" he stammered. Then he took a deep breath and continued without the hesitation, trying to ignore Arc's scrutinizing stare. "Okay, let's start with whether or not your presence here jeopardizes Berk."

"We've deliberately kept away from your village," answered Arc. "If we continue to do so, your village will not be attacked… at least, not from our enemies."

"You haven't stayed away, though," accused Hiccup. "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but Snotlout was right – he did see something flying around two days ago. That was you, wasn't it, with your invisibility-thing going on."

"It's called Shrouding, not invisibility-thing, but yes, that was me," Arc admitted, almost looked remorseful for the deception but not quite succeeding before his face grew cold again. "Though my Shroud makes me difficult to see, it's not one hundred percent effective, nor does it block my scent or other potential clues to my presence. I was scouting the island before bringing Nestor here, and I did watch you and your fellow Norse for a time. But that was merely to determine if your activities would conflict with our plans, which they did not."

Hiccup didn't like being spied on, but at least Arc was willing to fess up to it. Plus he wasn't feeling brave enough to scold a powerful dragon on matters of privacy, so he moved on from the topic.

"If you're not here for Berk," he asked, "then why are you here?"

"We're doing a search, Young Hiccup," said Arc, his tail gesturing out toward the ocean. "More accurately, I'm doing the searching. It involves long hours of flying in frigid conditions, and it is not pleasant. This island is the only halfway hospitable piece of land in the region, though there are a few others we could try out if you are uncomfortable with us staying here."

"And I'd rather not try those places out," said Nestor. "I'm grounded while he's flying around. By the by, does it ever get warmer here?"

Hiccup shrugged. "Actually, we're having a heat wave right now."

Nestor frowned and hugged himself. "Distressing."

"Our business will conclude within a couple of weeks," continued Arc. "If we don't find our objective soon, there will be little reason to stay and we will leave as quietly as we came."

"Can I ask what you're after?" said Hiccup. "It's not another one of those big bone things, is it?"

"That is not for you to know, and for your own safety that is the way it must remain."

"I wasn't very safe back in Tempest Point," pointed out Hiccup.

"Tempest Point was my fault," said Nestor. "The Guardian came after me and…"

"Nestor!" warned Arc.

"Ah… yeah, need-to-know, Hiccup," backpedaled Nestor. "What Arc is saying is that we won't be repeating Tempest Point because the factors that led up to it don't exist here. Really, your people are safe as long as we keep our distance."

Hiccup wasn't reassured that much, though he was now intrigued by Nestor's accidental namedrop. Guardian – the skele-bull thing? Guardian of what, exactly? It was probably something to do with the satchel that Nestor had retrieved during the battle, the one now residing inside the cave.

"All right, I'll take your word on it for now," said Hiccup, sounding less convincing than he intended to sound. As that subject was a dead end for further questions, Hiccup asked the second-most pressing one instead. "So what kind of dragon are you?"

"If you mean my species, then I'm commonly known as a Thunderchild," said Arc, "though, given time, I'm confident you Norse will come up with a less-flattering name."

He raised his forward-right limb and began to generate a small current of blue lightning that jumped between his claws as if it was alive. Arc let the current grow in strength, several more threads of electricity dancing in his hand like excited snakes. Hiccup found it memorizing and almost beautiful… for the fleeting second before Arc closed his hand around it. Then there was a sudden flash of blinding light and Hiccup felt like something shocking had just passed through him, leaving him tingling as if his entire body had fallen asleep and was now waking back up. His hair was also standing on end and resisting his attempts to smooth it.

Toothless hadn't liked the sensation and growled his displeasure at Arc. Nestor wasn't happy either, trying to pat down his own hair and saying, "Did you really need to show off, old man?"

"Just demonstrating our natural power," said Arc, not in the least bit apologetic. "Dragons of my ilk live very far to the south and east. I have very little in common with them, however, as I am a Hyperion."

Arc's prideful use of this title or name indicated he held it in high esteem. It fell flat with Hiccup. "Which means what?" he asked.

"It means that if you attempted a conversation with another Thunderchild, you would get a blank stare for a response. It means that I am an anomaly, one of only a few in the world. And once again, the rest of the story is not for your ears."

"Wait a minute! You can't just say something like that and then clam up!"

"He can," said Nestor tiredly. "He really, really can."

"I merely wished to remove any false assumptions about my species," said Arc, "in case you ever encounter another Thunderchild. I didn't want them unduly pestered by your questions."

Whatever awe Hiccup had for Arc was rapidly changing to irritation, but he resisted telling the dragon off. "Okay, one more question." He directed this one at Nestor. "What exactly is your deal?"

Nestor looked up at Arc with a flippant smile. "You'll allow me to answer this one?"

Arc nodded his head calmly. "Please do. Feel free to continue answering the boy's inquiries, though I trust you to use discretion. As for me, I am spent from many hours in the air. I was intending to get some sleep before I encountered our guests in our cave. I have too many things to do and I require rest to continue doing them."

He turned his ancient eyes back on Hiccup, once again making him feel very underqualified to be dealing with the dragon. "But I must know two things first, Young Hiccup. Will you expose us to your people, and will you let us stay?"

Honestly, Hiccup was in a yes-to-the-first, no-to-the-second frame of mind after his conversation with Arc. Again, Arc didn't come off as a threat – just as a jerk. And if the dragon didn't see fit to share his plans with someone he claimed to owe his life to, well, he could go live on an ice flow for all Hiccup cared.

But there was also Nestor. He was looking away from Hiccup and trying to hide the plea in his eyes. Nestor wasn't in charge here, far from it, and he clearly respected Arc's leadership role. Nestor would suffer if they left, that was for certain. Hiccup knew the other islands in the area – they made Berk look tropical.

Beyond compassion, there was a part of Hiccup that believed that it was better to have Nestor and Arc closer than further away. That insane part of him that yearned for answers, that foolish part of him that never knew when to leave things alone, was telling him to keep these two around.

"I won't tell them, not unless I have to," said Hiccup, "and… you can stay until you finish your whatever-it-is."

Arc's gaze softened as he gave a polite nod and quickly slunk into the cave without even a goodbye, though Hiccup thought he heard an echo from the cave a few seconds later. It hasn't even been a day yet was what it sounded like.

"Ah, yeah," said Nestor, once Arc had retreated to the cave, "he might come off as cold, aloof, condescending and irritable…and… um… So what was your question again?"

Hiccup barely heard him. He felt like he had just added one more burden to his already overtaxed shoulders, and he leaned on Toothless as it hit him. He was going to lie to his friends and family… again. He even agreed to it. Maybe he was a very stupid person.

"I… I don't need this," said Hiccup. "I mean, I really don't need this. I had put this all behind me already. I shelved my metal knick-knacks and I put my heart and soul into training a dragon squad capable of saving my village from a war. But no, there's not enough trouble in my life already. So I almost die today from my own prototype misfiring, I find you guys running around the island like the harbingers of Ragnarok, and I still have to lead hand signal practice tonight!"

"Sounds stressful," replied Nestor, taking a seat on a nearby rotting stump and trying to look understanding.

"Yes, stressful," continued Hiccup. "You know, I told everyone about what happened on the Mainland. Their reaction was a collective shrug with a few warnings thrown in about being too curious. Maybe I should just tell them about you two. Maybe I'll get the same reaction."

"Except you don't believe that," said Nestor.

"Except I don't believe that," agreed Hiccup. "The only thing that was higher on our no-no list than dragons was sorcery, or what we affectionately call deviltry. That's what's going on here, isn't it? Arc talking, you doing your… thing… Tell me I'm wrong."

Nestor shrugged and waggled his hands. "There's some truth to your thinking. I certainly wouldn't call it deviltry. I didn't make any deals with the Underworld… just with Mr. Irritable." He nodded at the cave entrance. "It wasn't even my choice at the time… and that's probably the most I can say about it because…"

"Because it's need-to-know!" shot back Hiccup, his temper flaring. He threw his hands up and began crawling back on top of Toothless. "We're just going around in circles. Forget it. Forget all of it. My life's got plenty of problems already, and I have to leave now so that I'm only slightly late getting back home. Let's get out of here, buddy."

Toothless didn't even take a step before Nestor was standing in front of the dragon, blocking his path. There was a serious glint in the man's eyes all of sudden that unsettled Hiccup, a change in demeanor from his cavalier attitude. Nestor seemed a lot like Arc at that moment, and not in a good way.

"Let me say one thing, and then I will step out of the way," said Nestor. It was not a request. Toothless growled softly and glared at Nestor, but Hiccup soothed him and waved his acquiescence to Nestor to avoid a confrontation.

Realizing that he might have come off too strong, Nestor relaxed as he began to speak. "Arc doesn't have much faith in humanity. Not that I have a great deal more than he does, but I like to believe there are people I can trust. Perhaps I haven't earned any trust from you, as I'm sure I've come off rather erratic in my actions, but you should trust me when I say that our continuing silence is for your benefit. Arc likes to color it in high ideals, but it really comes down to one goal: sparing you from sharing our path."

"I don't want to share it," said Hiccup. "I just want to understand it."

Nestor shook his head solemnly. "Doesn't work that way. The world you live in is not mine, Hiccup. The world you know may have two-headed dragons but things still have familiarity. Things still make sense. But then you have this other hidden world, with its buried secrets and abominations and, yes, a lot of deviltry thrown in. There's a line between the two worlds, Hiccup, but you can't see it. That line has a power of its own – it pulls you toward it like an undertow in the ocean. It pulls you in with temptation and knowledge; it makes you think you're about to discover something incredible.

"Then, without knowing it, you cross the line. For a time, it really is incredible. So many mysteries, so many adventures… it's like the world is bright and brand new again. But then you realize this new world has some pretty dark spots, threats no one in your world can even imagine. You want to cross back, maybe you even try to once or twice, but you can't. The undertow has you. You can see the other side, your old life. You can wave to it, even cry out to it, but you'll never get back there…ever."

Nestor backed away from Toothless, but he kept his solemn gaze steady on Hiccup. "If you enjoy your life, Hiccup… if you're even in any way content with it, then go home to your village, pretend we don't exist, and don't come back to this cave. We'll be out of your life very shortly, one way or another."

Before forcing himself to discard fanciful thinking and focus on village priorities, Hiccup had come up with a lot of theories about Nestor. Witch, devil, a god walking the earth, some bizarre offspring of the above – he'd exhausted all the possibilities he knew of. But after that speech, he knew there wasn't anything different about Nestor that mattered.

Hiccup knew because he understood alienation. He understood loneliness.

Not knowing what else to say, Hiccup quietly prodded Toothless to go. The dragon gave a parting look to Nestor, as if saying goodbye, and then took off for Berk. They rode in silence the whole way, Hiccup occupied by the myriad conundrums and conflicts in his head.

Twilight had fallen over Berk by the time Hiccup returned home, torchlights illuminating the village and casting waving shadows upon the ground. Aching all over from the long ride, he set Toothless loose to go get dinner while he headed for the Great Hall and signal training. He was in absolutely no mood for this after today. He had always scolded the others when they showed up even five minutes late; he had to be at least twenty minutes overdue. They were going to have a field day with him.

He didn't even get to the door before one more surprise managed to hunt him down. This one was in the form of a trio of strangers who had been loitering near the door, standing around as if they were waiting for someone. The deliberateness of their approach as he arrived meant that they were waiting for him. He realized, with no small amount of dismay, that they were Gunnarr.

Well, two of them were stereotypical Gunnarr, beefy guys in their warrior outfits and brandishing evil-looking two-handed axes. The third one, the one in the middle, was far slimmer and far more feminine, though the gray cloak that covered her figure made a better description impossible. Her cloak's hood covered most of her face, with only her lips and shadowed chin visible.

"Hold!" she demanded, her smooth voice carrying authority as wicked as the axes her companions wielded. "Are you the Dragon Rider? You match his description."

Suddenly feeling like he had a bull's-eye on his forehead, Hiccup looked around for assistance. There were voices coming from the Hall and a few other Berkians walking around, though none close enough to intervene very quickly. Then again, there wasn't anything hostile about these three Gunnarr… outside of the fact that they were Gunnarr. Did their presence mean the summit was starting early? That would not be good.

"I'm a Dragon Rider," said Hiccup. "A lot of us ride dragons here, you know."

"Your people may ride dragons," said the woman, "but there is only one Dragon Rider. The first one, the destroyer of Red Death."

"Well, if you describe it that way, then that would be me," said Hiccup, not sure if he was about to be honored or served up on a platter.

"Then I formally greet you, Dragon Rider," said the cloaked woman, though she didn't offer her hand or soften her voice. "I wished to meet you before retiring for the night. I have heard many… interesting… things about you."

"Well, if I'm anything, I'm interesting," said Hiccup. "And you are?"

"Forgive me, I assumed you were more familiar with Gunnarr customs and would recognize me by my garb. I am the Seer, and I've come to inspect your village's accommodations before the summit."

Hiccup tried to keep his eyes from spreading wide, feeling again uncomfortable and off-balance. This was the Seer – the one-and-only. While happy to hear that the summit hadn't been moved up, he was mystified by the Seer's arrival ahead of the meeting, or that she didn't have fifty Gunnarr guards around her. He honestly knew little about the title of Seer other than the Gunnarr had had one around for almost two centuries and that the Seer was afforded as much respect as the clan chieftain. But like most subjects that didn't involve the word dragon, Hiccup hadn't paid attention to the legends surrounding the Seer, figuring it was a matter for more interested Vikings.

"Welcome to our village, then," said Hiccup, not knowing what protocol to go by and hoping this conversation would end very shortly.

For the second time that day, Hiccup felt like he was being sized up, though the feeling was fleeting this time around. The Seer gave away nothing as she nodded curtly and began walking away with her bodyguards in tow.

"We will talk again, undoubtedly, before my stay is done here," she said, her parting words before disappearing into the village.

Nothing more today, please, Hiccup mentally begged the Gods. When I walk into the Hall, please don't let there be any five-headed snakes or flying codfish or anything weirder than normal. Would that be too much to ask?

"There you are!" were the first words to greet Hiccup as he threw open the doors. The rest of the Dragon Squad were at their assigned table, though Astrid was already on her feet and approaching him with a look that successfully combined anger and concern without overdoing it on either. "I was about ready to get on Beatrix and go looking for you."

"Sorry about that," said Hiccup, walking with Astrid back to the table. "I just got back, and then this cloaked lady held me up at the door."

"The Seer?" said Astrid. "She was asking about you a few minutes ago. She got in earlier today, just her and her bodyguards. What'd she want with you?"

"I think she's just curious if the boy matches the legend," he replied. "Otherwise, I don't know what she was after."

"We were talking about what her face must look like under that cloak," said Tuffnut. "I bet she has holes for eyes."

"I think she's all shriveled up," said Snotlout. "If the Gunnarr have had a Seer around for two centuries, maybe it's always been the same one. Maybe the Gods keep her alive to…"

"Hold that thought, Snotlout," said Astrid. "Hiccup, where did you come back from?"

Here it was, the moment Hiccup had been dreading the whole ride back to Berk. Even though he had come to a decision minutes before arriving at the Hall, a new wave of doubt was threatening to wash away his decisiveness. But like any good Viking, he stubbornly stood firm on his decision and began to tell the others what had happened.

He told the truth… to a point. He omitted pretty much everything after getting out of the tree and gave himself credit for manning up and pulling the release lever. Toothless had never left the base of the tree, refusing to abandon him. The names of Nestor and Arc never came out of his lips. It was one long story about his tinkering project, now a lot less secret.

Reactions were what he expected. Most of the gang gave him the That's Hiccup treatment, giving him the appropriate measure of grief without becoming mean about it (though Snotlout came close with his comment about how they might have gotten out of squad training if Hiccup had been a smidge dumber with his launcher). Fishlegs was pleased to be able to rib Hiccup for a change, and Astrid was just relieved that he'd come out of it okay, though she did get in a sucker punch to the shoulder at the end of signal practice for trying to keep secrets from her again.

Exhausted and mentally wrung out, Hiccup hoped the morning would bring greater clarity, because he was really afraid of where things were going to go from here. He did have the presence of mind to stop by Gobber's shop to retrieve a spare saddle and a few tools required for installation. He'd have to get up earlier than usual tomorrow to get Toothless flight-ready again.

As soon as he stepped into the store, the little dragon skull under Gobber's workbench that had been a secret voyeur for the last several days began taking note of his movements. Then it noticed something more important – the glow coming off of the young man. Oh, it wasn't an obvious glow, not something that could be seen by the human eye or even a dragon's eye. It took special sight in the right mystical wavelength to spot this kind of energy residue. The little skull could not only see it, but could recognize the signature of the energy aura.

The human had been in close proximity to its master's sworn enemy. There was no doubt.

It opened up a mystical conduit to its master and began to have a lengthy discussion with him.

Morning did not bring clarity, but work brought distraction, so Hiccup dove into his work.

With Toothless equipped with a spare saddle and the weather looking like it might start spitting rain any minute, Hiccup switched things up and had the squad do their live-fire practice first. He always went last, since Toothless needed the least amount of practice, which left him in a circling pattern above everyone else with too much to think about.

At least the Seer was absolutely not his problem. He even asked his dad about her before starting squad training. His exact words: "Not your problem, son." Yay. The only drawback coming from her direction was that everyone had to avoid talking about squad training in public. They didn't want the Gunnarr getting wind of the squad's plans too early and possibly preparing for it.

The day was still early, the sun creeping up from the seascape and fighting with the distant fog for attention. Hiccup was fighting his own fog as well, trying to find some inner resolution to his turmoil.

"What am I doing, Toothless?" muttered Hiccup. Even though Toothless had perked up to listen, Hiccup wasn't really talking to him. Good, patient Toothless was often the passive listener for when Hiccup needed to unburden himself, the dragon waggling his head to signal his attentiveness.

"Whom am I protecting here?" he went on. "The village? Nestor and Arc? Myself? I don't want to start lying to everyone again. It didn't turn out so well last time. But… somehow, I don't think the ones needing protection are Nestor and Arc."

Toothless was drifting out towards the ocean as Hiccup continued to ruminate aloud, the waters settled and clear. They were getting away from the practice range, but Toothless could correct that in a heartbeat and so Hiccup wasn't worried about it.

"Something's up, Toothless, and it has to be major. I knew that back on the Mainland and I know it now. But the village needs me focused on this and Nestor doesn't want my help anyway. Maybe it's for the best that we go our separate ways." Hiccup sighed and shook his head. "So why don't I believe it?"

With the sea as calm as it was this morning, his attention was easily drawn to a series of vertical water sprays not far off the coast. The tight cluster and repeating pattern suggested a pod of whales moving by. He knew about whales, had seen a pod of them spouting about during a longboat trip when he was younger, but had never seen any around Berk. Dragons and whales weren't exactly on speaking terms with each other. Perhaps the whales sensed that things were different now.

"Look at that, Toothless," said Hiccup, though he didn't need to point it out as Toothless's head was already turned toward the sprays. "I could use a distraction right about now. Don't fly too close, though. We don't want to spook them."

Naturally curious as well, Toothless glided over toward the sprays and descended to within a few dozen feet of the ocean surface. Hiccup kept his eyes on the spraying action, relishing the prospect of seeing the large creatures for the first time in years. It felt like a good omen to witness the whales' passage, and he could really use a good omen right about now.

They closed to within a hundred feet, the still water allowing for an obscurity-free view underwater. And at that moment, Hiccup's piece of mind broke into a million parts.

They were not whales. Nowhere close to them. To emphasize how not-whale they were, they launched themselves out of the sea, water exploding outward in all directions, and came right at him.

Two sets of hidden eyes watched the Dragon Squad go through their routine, well masked by the immensely useful power of the Shroud. They were parked on a nearby rock formation well away from the practice range and any potential stray fireballs. They kept as motionless as possible, as the Shroud was nigh undetectable when no movement was being conducted.

Nestor leaned against Arc as they watched the Berkians fly about, happy to have the dragon's body heat available but not thrilled with the odor. As dragons went, Arc was fastidious about his hygiene, but he still had a natural musk that grated on Nestor's olfactory. There was no way to share the Shroud except by touch, however, and if Nestor didn't have a barrier field perpetually surrounding his body he wouldn't even be able to share it.

Shrouding took getting used to. Not knowing where your body was, seeing through your eyelids, staying aware of your movements – Arc had had a long time to perfect his Shrouding techniques, Nestor not so much.

"I'm still baffled," commented Nestor.

"By?" replied Arc.

"By why you took me out for an air show."

Nestor couldn't really see Arc shrug, but he figured the dragon just did. "I thought you could use a distraction. You've seemed moodier than usual, I assume due to your parting discussion with the boy."

Nestor didn't think he was being all that moody. Yes, he hated having to "do the right thing" and scare Hiccup away from returning. Yes, he might have just ruined a potential friendship with someone who wasn't afraid of dragons and inexplicable powers. Yes, he hated his life at the moment, the perpetual pattern of waiting, fighting, and running that had become his existence…

Salo krebit, he really was moody.

Watching the Berkians flying around, trading good-natured insults and jokes with each other as they practiced formations and frying innocent dummies, wasn't doing much for his spirits. Mostly it was reminding him of that other world that he couldn't touch any longer. The one that he either endangered or got endangered by every time he tried to interact with it. Still, Arc's heart was in the right place and he wasn't going to ruin the sentiment by speaking his mind.

"You do realize you're doing a nice thing, you know," he said.

"Yes. Don't get used to it. I'd prefer you learn to Shroud yourself so I don't have to be bothered."

"Been practicing every day, Arc. Turned my left pinky invisible this morning for maybe two seconds."

"Ah, progress," commented Arc.

If he didn't know better, Nestor could have sworn that Arc was paying attention to the antics of the Berkians as well. There wasn't much that interested the old man beyond his self-proclaimed Hyperion duties and his quest-of-the-week. Nestor was surprised by Arc's behavior this morning, choosing to carry Nestor to the other side of the island for an impromptu air show rather than take off at dawn for another day of reconnaissance. Nestor knew there was a softer side to Arc; he just figured it was buried under ten layers of scales and that you had to break a hundred axe heads to get at it.

Nestor was focusing on the black dragon, Toothless, and his young rider as they flew away from the others and toward the ocean. He couldn't help but wonder if he could have handled thing better with Hiccup. The Fates seemed determined to toss their fortunes in together. Two chance encounters in a very short time period, miles away from each other – it was hard not to consider the possibility that Hiccup was supposed to be a part of this.

Well, the Fates could go cut someone else's lifespan short for a change. This was as close as Nestor got to the Berkians. He wasn't dragging Hiccup or anyone else into this affair. Not as long as…

The remainder of his musings were dumped and abandoned as he watched the black dragon approach something in the water. Then he was standing, pulling away from Arc and accidentally dropping his Shroud as he stared wide-eyed at the unfolding nightmare before him.

"By the Fates, what is…? ULP!"

Arc was already grabbing him from behind and lifting off into the air, Nestor's Shroud reasserting itself as they arrowed toward the battle. As baffled as Nestor was by the sudden turn of events, he was even more baffled at Arc's reaction. No comment, no surprise, just grabbing Nestor and immediately rushing to action… as if he'd been anticipating it.

Then it hit him. No wonder Arc's morning surprise threw him. In the many years Nestor had known his dragon mentor, he'd never known him to change a course without reason, never rest unless required, and never do anything spontaneous unless there was a plan behind it. This little outing hadn't been for Nestor's benefit – Arc had known something was going to happen. While Arc had his share of talents, prophecy was not one of them. The only way he could have known about it… was if he had helped push it into happening.

What did you do, old man? Nestor angrily thought as he was carried into the fray.

If the things bursting out of the ocean had ever worn dragon scales over their pearly-white bones, Hiccup would have eaten his other foot. They were more a mockery of dragons than modeled after them. They were all similar, featuring four working limbs and a spine covered in ribs and barbs and two wings and a gruesome tooth-filled draconian head, but they had the same hodgepodge composition as the bone abomination from before. Leg bones combined to arm bones, vertebrate connected to finger bones, ribs made of a hundred teeth stuck together by some unnaturally strong glue.

But they moved like dragons, flapped their wings like dragons, and screamed like dragons as they ascended. Their cries were artificial, like something alien was trying to speak dragon but couldn't get the inflection right. Their joints worked, their limbs bent, and their jaws widened as they approached Toothless. They were about Toothless's size, maybe smaller, and their eyes weren't empty sockets like they should have been but dark spots filled with an inky blackness that quivered in the sunlight.

"Oh, Gods!" yelled Hiccup. Toothless had let out his own frightened cry, though that didn't stop him from quickly banking away as the skele-dragons pursued. Hiccup took a count and got an even dozen skele-dragons. They were spreading out and keeping him from heading back to the coast, forcing Toothless further out to sea.

Hiccup tried to keep tabs on the skele-dragons as Toothless sped away, and he watched as half of them split from the main group and headed for the Wasteland. Going after his friends, probably, though it was pretty clear that he was their main target. They had drawn him out with their fake-whale act, enticing his curiosity. How long had they been there, under the sea, waiting for him to come by?

For not having any skin on their wings, the skele-dragons were remarkably good at keeping up with Toothless. Three of them were practically on top of him, their open mouths glowing a dire obsidian shade as they unleashed bolts of black flame that sizzled the air as they passed.

Toothless was twisting and jinxing in mid-air, evading the bolts and flipping himself upside down, Hiccup holding on for dear life, as he angled his head and fired a blue bolt right into the kisser of the closest skele-dragon. The thing's skull exploded into smoldering fragments, the bony body spiraling out of control and into the ocean.

"Yeah!" cheered Hiccup. "Two more at eleven o'clock."

Toothless spotted the second and third ones converging on him. He banked upward, right between the two threats, throwing them into confusion as they attempted to follow. Toothless didn't give them that chance, lobbing two more bolts into their respective heads. Two more monstrosities fell from the sky into the sea.

Hiccup almost managed another cheer before the next three skele-dragons were upon them. Toothless's stunning move had cost him speed, allowing the other monsters to catch up. But these ones weren't firing at him. No, these ones had something else in mind.

Two of them rammed into Toothless from behind, each one clamping onto a wing and holding it in place. Hiccup watched, helpless, as Toothless screamed in anger and writhed and twisted in their embrace. They could have crippled Toothless at this point, could have swiped Hiccup from his seat or burned them to cinders with their black fire, but they chose instead to force Toothless's wings into a level position, keeping him airborne mere feet above the waves.

One of the skele-dragons leered at Hiccup, its eyes nothing but black holes that churned with malice. The thing had no way to smile, having no lips, but Hiccup figured it was smiling just the same. But it made no move against him, choosing to just look at him. If Hiccup had a club or war hammer he might have smashed the thing right then, but for all he knew that might have only made it mad. Plus its companion would have fried him in an instant.

Toothless had twisted his head around as far as possible, firing off another bolt that obliterated the left leg of one of the skele-dragons. The skele-dragon didn't seem to care. It was the head that mattered with these things and Toothless couldn't turn far enough to hit them. He couldn't shake them off, either, as they were physically holding his wings in place and forcing him to fly straight.

The third skele-dragon landed on top of Toothless, its rib cage hanging menacingly over Hiccup like the jaws of a predator preparing to snap down on its lunch. For several seconds it sat there on Toothless, content to ride the beleaguered dragon over the ocean. Then it began to tremble, as if suffering a seizure, its bones coming loose and splitting at the joints and connections. Except the bones weren't coming loose all the way, choosing instead to roll and fumble over each other instead of falling off.

The other two skele-dragons contorted as well, some of the bones in their limbs and ribs scattering and crawling over each other like a horde of worms. They snaked by Hiccup, colliding with the bones from the other skele-dragons and reconnecting into a new form, one big interconnecting shape that grew around Toothless and Hiccup, imprisoning them within a web of bones. They formed a narrow arch over Hiccup. They formed a lattice of braces that held Toothless's wings in place, rolling up to his neck to prevent it from twisting upward. Their skulls were now grotesque adornments that made Toothless look like he was carrying around the trophies of past kills.

When the bones finally ceased their movements, they had become one horrid bone-cage for Hiccup and Toothless, a flying bone-cage at that. Toothless growled and struggled as hard as he could, but couldn't break free of it.

Hiccup had barely any time to even panic and start pounding on the cage with his fists before the next terror hit. This time it was in the form of a tiny skull that was floating toward him, a little skull that had to have come from a Terrible Terror. Hiccup saw it squeeze through the bony bars of his cage and hover before him, its eyes as dark and deadly as its bigger brethren.

The little skull's eyes began to pulsate, the black spreading outward and taking the shape of a human face. Brighter colors spread throughout the face, filling in features and details until the image was recognizable of that of a man almost as skeletal as the dragon bones surrounding Toothless.

The image was translucent and intangible, Hiccup waving his hand through it and feeling only a touch of intense cold. The image didn't seem to care, a grim expression on his face that chilled Hiccup further.

"Greetings, Hiccup," said the man. "I know that this isn't the friendliest way to make your acquaintance, but as you can see from my appearance, I'm not one to go out in public often. You may call me Cervantes, and I will only take up a few minutes of your time."

"Is that because I only have a few minutes left to live?" asked Hiccup. If the last several days hadn't just happened, Hiccup might have begun to freak out right about now. As it was, talking to an ancient-looking old man through a magic skull was… well, very creepy but not worthy of a freak-out. He was more afraid of the man's intentions toward him and Toothless.

"I do not desire your death, Hiccup," answered the face. "Nor that of your dragon. The Void is patient and claims all things in time. What I desire is information, and I believe you possess it. You've been in contact with the dragon named Archibald. I need to know where you met with him."

"Who?" said Hiccup. "Name doesn't ring any bells." He was hoping the innocent dumb kid approach might work here, but he didn't expect it to. Cervantes already knew his name – he probably knew he was anything but dumb.

The old man's eyes narrowed dangerously. "This is not the time for feigning ignorance, child, nor should you feel any desire to be heroic. This matter is not for you to involve yourself in. I merely ask for you to do what comes easily to the human race: to stand out of the way and not get involved."

"Oh, you meant that Archibald," said Hiccup, changing tactics. "You're out of luck there. He came and left a few days ago. He thought the village was a little too cramped for his style."

"Child, while time for me is infinite, my patience is not," said Cervantes. "I know you're lying. Now, one final time: tell me where you met him." The threat in his tone made it clear he was done with the pleasantries.

Hiccup didn't know what was really going on, and he barely knew anything about Nestor, but he was still rooting for him. Even Arc was more pleasant than this guy. No, it was easy to see that giving this guy anything he asked for was a bad idea. So Hiccup crossed his arms and shook his head at Cervantes, bracing himself for a session of personal injury for his refusal.

But it didn't happen. Instead, Hiccup felt Toothless go into a dive all of sudden, the bones shifting along his wings and forcing him down. The dragon struggled in vain, unable to budge the mystical bone constraints on his wings. The flowing surface of the ocean was growing closer by the second. They slowed, still moving forward but at a snail's pace for a flyer. They'd be stalling under normal circumstances, but the bones' power was apparently stall-proof.

Ten feet, five feet, two feet, skimming it, and then down into the water. They quickly sunk into the brisk, salty brine up to Hiccup's saddle, leaving most of Toothless underwater. His head was prohibited by the bone brace from surfacing, Toothless beginning to panic along with Hiccup as Cervantes's intentions become obvious.

"He's a thief, understand," said Cervantes, seemingly oblivious and uncaring in regards to the thrashing dragon underneath his disembodied image. "Archibald has something that's rightfully mine. I wish to get it back. Defending thieves is frowned upon in all societies, even yours."

"Please don't do this!" pleaded Hiccup, his fear for Toothless rising as the dragon's struggles intensified. "I don't know anything that can help you!"

"A dragon like yours has maybe, what, two good minutes of oxygen in his lungs, maybe less?" taunted Cervantes. "A slow trip to the Void is never easy to watch, especially when you can prevent it."

"Please, stop!"

"You know how to stop it, Hiccup."

"How do I know you'll let us go?" He could already feel his will beginning to break down. He knew in his heart that he didn't believe Toothless's life wasn't worth keeping Arc's location secret, but that didn't mean Cervantes would let them go afterwards. He also knew that betraying Nestor and Arc's location would make things worse. Anything that gave this monster what he wanted would make things worse.

"You don't," said Cervantes, smirking, "though, again, I do not desire your death. But it doesn't matter – you'll tell me. You'll tell me because a chance at life is better than no chance. Humans always take that chance, even when it runs counter to common sense. You're going to tell me, Hiccup. The question that remains is how much you're willing to lose before you do."