Chapter 15
It happened so fast. All I saw was a glint of silver, and then something cold and hard smashed into me. Barf, or Belch, shrieked, drowning out the sounds of his struggling wings. We plunged downward. Right into the water.
Something heavy weighed us down. I squirmed out of Ruffnut's grasps, clawing for the surface. But there was something in the way, a net, but one of metal. I couldn't break though. And even though we were underwater, I heard Ruffnut's panic as she realized the same thing.
Barf and Belch whipped their body from side to side, trying to swim like an eel. Belch had his head free and above the surface; Barf was under with us, but it seemed like they only needed to breathe with one. Barf watched us helplessly, entangled in the net. Streams of bubbles escaped from between his teeth as he tried to call to his rider. Tuffnut, also free, pulled at the net in an attempt to free his sister and me.
And me? I just floated there, caught in an unreal daze as around me, the water grew hazy from the twins' thrashing. I . . . I was having a hard time grasping the severity of this. My body had already surrendered, growing cold as if preparing for a deep sleep . . .
The sky suddenly glowed orange. The light faded.
Then something broke through the waves.
Hookfang bellowed as he strained to lift us clear of the ocean. Snotlout was practically standing on his back, unable to do anything but watch. Barf and Belch were limp in Hookfang's grip, although their wings twitched erratically in a fruitless attempt to fly. The metal mesh had wrapped around their body, pinning their wings, and Barf's head, which had apparently been too close. Ruffnut was squashed against his neck, held down by the spherical weights that hung from the net's edges. Tuffnut was clinging to Belch.
"So, there really are dragon riders!" The sailor smirked as he said that. With agonizing slowness, he pointed the same mounted crossbow he had used to take us down at Hookfang.
Snotlout hit his dragon's head. "Go, move!"
With a great stroke of his wings, Hookfang pitched sideways. With a great whoosh a metal net shot past us, but the sailors were already preparing for another go. For the first time, I realized there wasn't just one of those crossbows, but several – at least three on each side. One for each of them.
Hookfang dodged the next one, and the next. But in doing so, he swung the hapless Zippleback and his passengers sharp to the left, and was unprepared for the sudden jerk. His wings pumped frantically, but we were already toppling sideways. The whole boat rocked as we crashed into the mast. Hookfang managed to back away -
- just as a net slammed into his side.
The force knocked Snotlout off. He landed on the deck with a yelp, followed by the much louder crash of everyone else. Tuffnut cried out, mostly in annoyance, and he pushed at Hookfang's back, which had fallen across his shins. He had just barely missed crushing Belch.
Snotlout stood unsteadily, his helmet crooked. "Whoa -!"
He stopped short. The sailors had no need for the mounted crossbows now, but that didn't mean they couldn't use regular ones.
Hookfang growled. He tried to stand, but with his wings and a leg caught in the net, he couldn't. His sweaty scent suddenly adopted a smoky aftertaste, but before he lit himself up, he remembered he was tangled up with some very non-fireproof humans. Not me, though. Now that I wasn't at risk of drowning, I could think enough to find a gap small enough to crawl through. I ran up to stand next to Snotlout –
Who, true to form, was trying to use force.
" . . . don't let us go, then they will hunt you down!"
"Hard for them to do if they don't know where to look." Sailor one walked toward us. He had his crossbow levelled at Snotlout's chest. "Dead men tell no tales."
"But all of this seems rather unnecessary!" Sailor three lobbed an arm around the first sailor's shoulders. "We have no problem with you. We just want the dragons, that's all."
There was many protests voiced at once.
"Alright, settle down. The Night Fury, then. Just the one. One itsy, bitsy dragon."
"Uh, yeah. I don't think so."
The sailor sneered, "You're not in a position to bargain, kid."
It was a standoff. Them versus us. Them, with arrows, and us with fire on a wooden ship, and a small knife Snotlout had brought with him that was still in its sheathe. As hard as I thought, I couldn't see a way out of this.
Then, a miracle happened.
Out of nowhere, spikes cleaved all three crossbows in two, ripping parts of them right out of the sailors' hands and nailing them to the deck. Stormfly screeched; the sailors ran for the mounted crossbows, but then something literally smashed through the cabin, leaving a jagged hole that ran all the way through. The boat trembled as Skullcrusher slammed his front paws down. Dad leapt off his back, and pulled out a long sword in one easy motion. It was a display meant entirely for intimidation, and boy, it worked.
His expression never shifted. "Let them go."
"Okay, okay! No need to be hast – whoa!" The sailor flew right into the mast when Dad threw him aside. Dad bent his legs, and then grabbed the net trapping Hookfang and lifted it – dragon and all. Hookfang was able to roll out from there, and Dad set to freeing Barf and Belch as Astrid and Stormfly finally landed.
"Hiccup!"
"I'm fine, Astrid. Just a little waterlogged, that's all."
Of course, seeing as I no longer spoke Norse, she had to check that out for herself. By the time she was done, Ruffnut and her dragon were free, and Dad was advancing on the sailors.
"Who are you?" he growled. "Why are you here?"
"It-it's nothing personal!" They were practically scrambling over each other to get away from him. "We're just dragon trappers! We trap them, and sell them."
"Is that so? Well, there's been a change in plans." Dad easily picked out the leader of the three, and promptly grabbed his lapels, holding him up in midair and slamming him against a mast. "The dragons in this sector are off-limits."
He let go, and the sailor gasped as he fell to the ground.
"There's one other thing," Dad said. He pointed at the witch's hut. "What did you want with her?"
"Her? Who are you talking about? I don't . . . alright! Alright! We were hired to check up on her progress or something."
It was amazing how a hand around the throat changed people's minds.
"Progress about what?" Dad spat each word out.
"We weren't told the details. All we know is that it had to do with something crazy. Something to do with dragons. And people. People and dragons . . ."
". . . People turning into dragons?" Astrid said quietly.
The sailor blinked. "Yeah, actually that might have been it."
Then it . . . it wasn't an accident. It slowly hit all of us. Dad turned with agonizing slowness, whispering my name. This was bad. This was very bad.
"Uh, are we missing something?" one of the sailors asked.
"Get out of here. There's nothing for you to find." Dad released the sailor, and beckoned Skullcrusher forward. The dragon snapped at the other men as he did so. Dad grabbed me with one hand, climbed atop the dragon, and before he signalled the rest to depart, told the sailors one last thing:
"Don't ever come back."
We left them with that very vague threat.
It was very quiet.
"I told you not to come," Dad said.
I whined and flattened my ears. Sorry.
He turned to look at the others. "Whose idea was this?"
"His!" the twins answered in unison. They pointed one finger at Snotlout accusingly.
Astrid sneered. "Of course it was. What were -?"
Dad held up his hand. "Astrid, stop. No, no buts. Let it go."
She clearly wasn't happy about it, but there was only so long you could argue with a chief.
Dad's voice had gave away nothing, and his expression was equally stony, I tried to smell his emotions, just so I could gauge how much trouble I would be once when we got home. There was anger – would have been a shock if there hadn't been – but not as much as I was expecting. There was something else rolling underneath it too, that left a faint aftertaste of sadness, but wasn't it. I didn't know what it was.
When we landed, he dropped me on the ground, not even bothering to tell me to go home. He didn't need to. My pre-Toothless years had taught me how to read his 'I'm quite upset with you' body language at a glance. Dad said nothing to Astrid, or the twins, but when Snotlout tried to walk past, he held him back.
"Come with me," he said. Snotlout didn't protest.
They walked off into the darkness.
I was in trouble.
Not the 'I'm going to stand here and yell at you!' kind of trouble. Already went through that with Dad and Astrid. Nope, this was Toothless's turn. When I first got back, he had been all excited and insisted on sniffing me everywhere. Then, he remembered that I had disappeared in the first place and got quite mad. There had been lots of hissing and pacing, and now he was just ignoring me.
He had his back to me. Every time I moved to stand in front of him, he would turn his head and fix his gaze on the wall. When I got insistent, he would stand and go somewhere else, always with his back to me. The one time I had attacked his tail, he whipped it hard enough that it knocked the air out of me.
Which was why I was currently crouched in front of him, giving him my best, adorable stare.
"Okay, I'm sorry. Next time, I'll invite you along. How about that?"
Toothless continued to sulk. He was hunched over, so that I could barely fit in the space between his snout and the floor.
"Come on, Toothless. Nobody got hurt. Not for our lack of trying, but you can't understand what I'm saying anyways, so it doesn't really matter."
I bounded up to him, and laid my paws on his forehead. "Toothless!"
He shifted, sending me to the ground.
"Come on, Toothless. How can you resist this adorable face?" I rolled right underneath Toothless's chin and started swatting at it. "Please, I'm sorry!"
I smiled at him. "Forgive me?"
Head cocked to one side, he studied me. His lips parted, just an inch, and the corners began to lift.
"Thank you!"
He rubbed against me. I love you.
I rubbed against him, too. "Yes, I know. I happen to be a very lovable person."
Despite our late-night adventure, Dad still insisted on leaving at the crack of noon. Sleep meant nothing to a big hairy Viking like him. Nor to me. I did ride a Night Fury, after all. Sleep was less forgiving to the twins, and they spent most of the morning yawning and dozing off on various barrels and crates around the deck.
"You be a good girl." Stormfly purred as Astrid rubbed down her neck. She probably didn't really understand what her rider was saying, or else she would be putting up a bigger fuss. Same went for Meatlug, who was at Fishleg's heels, blinking with confusion when he blocked her from walking onto the boat. Barf and Belch were squabbling with each other. Toothless was hanging upside down from the sail's boom.
And Hookfang? There was no sign of him, or his rider.
"Alright!" Gobber dropped a large crate onto the deck, yanking his hook free afterwards. "I think that's the last of it."
"All the food's aboard?"
"Enough for two weeks both ways, and a bit of midnight snacking."
Dad nodded. Barring a vicious storm, it should only take us a little more than a week to reach our destination, but better safe than living off rats. If there were even any. The Terrors had done a great job at taking care of our former rodent problem.
As for where we were headed, this year we were off to the island of the Rabid Raiders, the Viking settlement closest to the Roman Empire. Also the furthest away. It wasn't all bad though; because of their distance, the Raiders hadn't fallen inside the range of the Green Death's territory. Or, in layman's terms, they hadn't been harassed by dragons nearly as much as the rest of us. The whole situation was kind of nonexistent with them. Nope, instead of participating in the engaging pastime of tangling with fire-breathing, sheep-snatching, hard-as-rock dragons, they had partaken in old, traditional Viking activities - like plundering the hapless villages of the nearby Romans. Out of all of us, they were probably the only 'regular' Vikings. It would make a good neutral territory for this meeting concerning dragons.
"Oi, there's the lad."
His dragon nowhere in sight, Snotlout walked onto the docks. Unlike usual, he didn't seem very enthused about the journey; he didn't seem like he was feeling much of anything. He had that glazed, emotionless look of someone who hadn't slept for so long that he had forgotten how to feel.
I warbled at Dad, surprised that Snotlout was allowed to come after last night.
Arms crossed over his chest, gaze fixed on my cousin, Dad said, "He's next in line for the chiefdom after you. If you can't be here, he has to be."
Makes sense. Someone had to be there to take my place. Usually, it would be Astrid, but we weren't . . . uh . . . officially committed yet, so that wouldn't mesh with the rest of the tribes. Snotlout, it was, then!
There was a look exchanged between Dad and Snotlout, just a second long. But in that second, I saw disappointment on Dad's face, the kind that used to be directed at me. And Snotlout slumped past him exactly as I used to.
"Everyone aboard!" Dad shouted.
Astrid murmured one last thing to her dragon, and then signalled for her to stay. Stormfly clucked curiously, but she didn't move as Astrid walked onto the ship.
"Toothless." Dad poked my big overgrown lizard with a stick, until Toothless finally grew annoyed enough to drop down from the boom. He complained loudly as Dad and Gobber herded him off the ship, plopping down on the docks with a pout as Astrid told him firmly to stay.
"Him, too." Dad pointed at a Terror sitting on the wheel.
One of the Vikings grabbed the Terror. Instead of tossing him away, however, he hugged the Terror to his chest. "But Sneaky is our ship's dragon! You can't go on a voyage without the ship's dragon. It's bad luck!"
"That's cats," Dad groaned.
"Well, we don't have any cats. So, our ship has a dragon!"
"We were fine before the dragons," Dad said.
But other sailors were beginning to crowd around Sneaky, who preened at the attention. "You can't go without the ship's dragon!"
"Alright, alright. The Terror can stay."
"Sneaky," the Viking holding him corrected. He was cuddling and rocking the little Terror like a baby. Sneaky just laid there with a smug look on his face.
". . . Right. Is everyone present?" Nobody said otherwise, but Dad counted just in case. "Okay. Haul in the anchor!"
Three strong Vikings pulled in the anchor with nothing but pure strength. They set it down gently on the ship's deck, and then carelessly tossed the pile of rope on top. The three joined the others at the oars as Dad marched up to the helm. Chin high, stomach sucked in, he took one of the wheel's spokes in each of his huge hands, and bellowed, "Row!"
The oars moved. They dug deep into the water with that sucking sound we all knew by heart. The boat rocked, and began to move out to sea, as the Vikings on shore cheered and waved. I had a feeling at least three of them would suggest throwing a party.
"Bye, Dad! See you in a couple of weeks!" The other riders were crowded at the rails, waving goodbyes to their families. Of all of them, I was the only one to actually have my parent on board; Spitelout usually came along on these trips, but in light of the whole my-son-has-turned-into-a-Night-Fury thing, Dad had left him behind so that he could take charge of trying to find a cure. Not that I expected him to achieve much success. Spitelout was a great Viking, but he wasn't me or Fishlegs.
Speaking of Fishlegs, he was already starting to glance down at the witch's journal. With the new information that we had gained, mainly that turning me into a dragon hadn't been an accident, he was determined to go through it again. As he had told us in a frenzy, he hadn't seen any mention of dragon transformations in there, so he must have really not been paying attention. Personally, I doubted that; it was Fishlegs. But he was right that there must have been something in there.
The oars stroked again. They did until we were out enough from Berk, at which pointed the Vikings drew them in. The other teens adjusted the sail under my supervision, turning it into the direction of the air currents. The sail bulged, and then we were one with the wind, soaring through the waves.
"Looks like we got a sunny day ahead," Gobber said. "Here's to good sailing!"
He handed Dad a mug of ale. They knocked them together, and then slurped them down.
Fishlegs frowned. "Uh, Stoick?"
"Yes . . . Oh."
Toothless had taken to the air. He called to us, and then swooped in–
"Oh, no, you don't!" Dad got in Toothless's way, and waved his arms wildly to stop him from landing. "Go on, shoo!"
Toothless made confused noises, but eventually was chased off from the deck. He lingered above our ship instead, circling.
"Stoick?" Gobber said.
"Don't worry," Dad said. "He'll give up eventually."
Review Response:
Havic: I'm afraid Hiccup will be remaining as a kid in this. No rapid aging going on here.
Guest (#1): They would certainly like to test the eel theory, but they have to get past Astrid ;) I can't remember if the chin thing was ever brought up or I'm mixing this story up with one of my other ones. But like I said to havic, no rapid aging going on here. But I'm glad you like this dragon!Hiccup!
sweettea1: Well of course that isn't their real profession :)
Jazz: Nope, it wasn't the Fiends. There is no relationship between the Fiends and the witch other than the fact they used to do business together.
A random person: I am familiar with what happened in HTTYD2, yes.
Guest (#2) : Yes! It is a plot!
Guest (#3): Not for a few more chapters. I know when he's going to figure out, but I haven't reached that point in the story.
Hiccstrid: Haha, no. The cure is not anthro.