Dimmadreki Chapter 14

The two dragons made a fast pass over the town at low altitude. Dimmadreki turned back to Myrkrid, who was just behind him and to his right. "I'm going to put down the human in front of those three identical houses," he called. "Then I'll write a quick rune in the dirt and go."

"I am so against this!" Myrkrid protested. "There are humans right in front of those houses!"

"Exactly," he replied. "They're men, so their testimony can't be challenged, and they're unarmed, so they can't hurt me."

"They probably have friends with weapons nearby," she warned him.

"This will take half a minute or less. Please let me do this, Myrkrid. It's important to me."

Her eyes narrowed. "I don't care if one of them is your own father – if they make one hostile move against you, they're fired!"

"I'll accept that," he nodded. They turned back toward Dimmadreki's target zone; he glided down, while she gained altitude and prepared her fires, just in case.

Dimmadreki did exactly what he said he'd do. He landed right in front of the four tradesmen who were talking shop after a long day. They were so stunned at the sight, they said and did nothing for the time it took for Fishlegs to climb off the dragon's back, and for the dragon to write one word in the dirt. HICCUP. Then he leaped into the sky and was gone.

"I was really expecting the worst," she admitted as he joined her in the sky.

"Don't you know me by now?" he wondered. "I keep my promises."

"I was worried about what they'd do, not what you were going to do," she said. They turned their backs on the island of Berk and flew out to sea. "So... what happens next?"

"I guess we need to find a safe place to live," he said thoughtfully. "I'm starting to think I can't trust humans anymore, except for a few individuals. We need a place where there aren't any humans, so you can lay our egg in safety."

She smiled. "I guess there are a few things about dragons I haven't told you yet. We all lay our eggs in the same place, except for a few exceptions like the Changewings. All we need is a place to live until the time comes."

"All in the same place?" He tried to form a mental picture of hundreds of dragons gathered on one island. "Is this a special place?"

"It's perfect for hatching our eggs, but not for much else," she told him. "It has a warm-water lagoon in the middle, so the eggs can hatch without hurting anybody, and it –"

"Whoa! Stop. Back up. What do you mean, 'hatch without hurting anybody'?"

"Oh, that. I keep forgetting how little you know about us. The eggs explode when they hatch."

"The eggs explode." He shook his head in wonder. "I do have a lot to learn."

"Generally speaking, the tougher the dragon, the bigger the bang," she explained. "A Gronckle egg makes almost the same explosion as a Gronckle lava-ball. Our egg won't be nearly as dramatic as that, but I'll still drop it in the water when it's ready to hatch. The warmth speeds up the hatching, and the water contains the explosion. All dragons do it that way."

"So why don't we just go to this special place now, and live there until it's time?" he asked.

"We'd get kind of hungry if we did that," she replied. "We fish those waters very heavily every winter during hatching season; there aren't many fish there that are big enough for us. There are enough smaller fish to feed the babies, but if we ate those, the babies would go hungry. That's a non-starter. Once we get to that island, don't expect to eat much, unless you get very lucky."

"Got it," he nodded. "So how long will it be until that happens?"

"We all feel a signal inside us when it's time; it's some kind of instinct. It always happens in the dead of winter, so it will be a few weeks, at least. We definitely need to find a place for ourselves until that happens. How much do you know about the islands around here?"

"Not much," he admitted. "I wasn't the kind of Viking who went on raids or tried to find the dragons' nest. I almost never went out on the ships at all. I think a lot of the sailors thought I was bad luck."

"Then I guess we'll just fly in an outward spiral until we find a place to stay," she decided. He had no better suggestions, so they flew, and flew, and flew.

They found several islands that day. One of them looked dry and barren, and bristled with catapults; they rejected that one immediately. "That's Outcast Island," Dimmadreki commented. "I forgot it was this close to Berk. It's no place for a sensible dragon."

Another island was covered in tall, gnarled trees. As they landed on a likely-looking hilltop, the air in front of them shimmered, and three odd-looking dragons with blade-like horns and leafy antennae suddenly appeared before them. Dimmadreki backed off in fear; this was the first time he'd met a dragon in the wild, aside from his mate. Myrkrid stood her ground, but didn't assume a threatening posture. One of the three eased forward and spoke.

"Night Furies, this is our island. We aren't comfortable with other dragons around here. We hope you understand."

"We understand," Myrkrid said kindly. "We didn't mean to trespass. We'll be on our way, won't we, Dimmadreki?" He nodded mutely, and they both headed for the clouds again.

"What was that about?" he asked her after a minute.

"Those were Changewings," she explained. "They don't have hard scales to protect them like the rest of us, so they like to live with others of their kind, safe from any threats. I assure you, there were a lot more than three of them watching us, but we'd never see them in the daylight unless they wanted us to see them."

"Could we see them at night?" he asked.

"Our eyes pick up traces of heat, as well as light," she said. "In daylight, the light totally overpowers the heat, but when it's dark, we could see their general outlines, which would be more than enough to show us where they're hiding. They know that about us; it takes away their feeling of safety. That's why they asked us to leave. They didn't think we'd actually attack them; it's just the fact that we could if we wanted to."

On they flew. They found several uninhabited islets, but they were all too small for Myrkrid's taste. "There's no place to hide," she complained. "We'd be too easy to see from the air."

"Who would be looking at us from the air?" he wondered.

"Enslaved dragons," she replied quickly. "They could tell their Monster about us, and she could fly over and add us to her collection. I don't want that kind of attention."

They passed another rocky islet; Myrkrid shook her head and didn't even bother descending to check it out. But Dimmadreki saw something on the shore that intrigued him. "It looks man-made," he said.

"Then we don't need it," she replied.

"We're not getting far with this search – will it hurt anything if we spend five minutes checking it out?" he asked. "I'm curious."

She sighed. "Why do you males always have to be so curious about things that don't matter? All right." They spiraled down together and landed next to Dimmadreki's unknown object.

It was a small wooden chest, about a foot long, tarred to make it waterproof. There was no way to know how old it was, or how long it had been floating before it washed ashore on this desolate little island. The lock was extremely rusty; Dimmadreki hooked a claw into it and snapped it off easily. He raised the lid. Inside was an assortment of small glass bottles, sealed with corks and containing various-colored liquids. Carved into the inside of the lid was a name, "Excellinor," which meant nothing to him.

"Have you seen what you came to see?" she asked.

"These bottles are all labeled," he answered distractedly. "Let me read a few, and find out what this stuff is." He couldn't grip the tiny bottles with his claws, so he retracted his teeth and lifted one out with his mouth. He set it on the rocky ground and rolled it over with his paw until he could read it.

"Love Potion #9," he read out loud. "Guaranteed to make the imbiber fall head over heels in love with the first person of the opposite sex he/she meets." He shook his head. "Where was this stuff when I was trying to impress Astrid?"

"Who's Astrid?" Myrkrid demanded.

"She's the girl who threw the axe at you in the cove."

"And you wanted to impress her? I think I've lost respect for you, Dimmadreki!"

"My tastes in females have changed, in case you didn't notice," he smiled.

"I did notice, but I'm still allowed to be jealous. You're mine now," she grinned back.

"No argument." He pulled out another bottle. "Hair Restorer. Guaranteed to make lost hair grow back." He looked at his mate. "I think this was a seid-kona's sample chest. She'd sell a few bottles of this stuff whenever she needed to make some quick money."

"What's a seed-corn?" Myrkrid had never heard the Norse term for a witch before.

"A seid-kona is a person who tries to influence things that other people can't control, like love and fertility. They're usually women. Some of them are obvious fakes, but they're all great at finding reasons why it's your own fault if their promises don't come true. Someone with potions like this will prey on people who don't think they can handle their own lives without help."

"I don't think you ever needed that kind of help," she said. "Your human life was pretty awful, but you always found a way to do what you had to do; you didn't break and you didn't run away. What else was this seed-corn selling?"

He pulled out another bottle, read its label… and just stared at it. "Well?" she demanded. "What does it say?"

"Curse-Be-Gone," he read in a shaky voice. "Guaranteed to undo the effects of curses, hexes, maledictions, and any other unwanted magic."

"Why is that a problem?" she wondered. "You aren't suffering from any… no. Dimmadreki, no! Don't! Don't even think it!"

"I still don't know what changed me into a dragon," he said thoughtfully, "but it had to be some kind of magic. If this stuff actually works…"

"But why?" she half-demanded, half-begged. "I thought you were happy with me!"

"It's not just you," he tried to explain. "It's my whole life! I didn't get to choose what I've become. Now, all of a sudden, this little bottle means I can actually choose."

"Would you seriously want to go back to what you were?"

"I'm nothing but a homeless, wandering dragon now!" he retorted. "Back in Berk, I'd be the son of the chief, with a house, a bed, warm clothes... every benefit a Viking can have!"

"Back in Berk, you'd be Hiccup the Useless, with all the bullying and neglect those Vikings could dish out! Now you're free! Free from all of that!"

"My dad must be missing me."

"He's the only one, Dimmadreki! The others would curse and spit on the ground if you walked back into their village – you said so yourself! What about how much I'd miss you?"

"I'm his only son. I owe it to him to go back."

"You owe it to your son to stay!"

"Myrkrid, can you imagine how it felt to have thumbs, to be able to hold things and use them, and then lose that ability?"

"Then imagine how you'll feel if you lose your wings, now that you've learned to fly."

He took a deep breath. "Everyone has always told me about my duty! My responsibility! What I owe to others! Just once, can't I think about what's best for me?"

She softly said, "Dimmadreki, do you love me?"

He stopped and thought. He looked at his forepaws. He looked at Myrkrid. He looked across the sea toward where Berk probably was. He looked up at the clouds. He looked back at her.

He picked up the bottle in his mouth. Then he tossed his head and sent the bottle flying. It hit a rock eighty feet away and shattered; the liquid flowed down and soaked into the rocky ground. Then he shut the chest's lid, turned, and kicked it out to sea. With its lid not latched shut, it sank out of sight after a few seconds, taking its contents down with it. He watched a few bubbles rise, then turned back to her. "Yes. I do love you. That's my final answer."

Myrkrid let out the breath she'd been holding. "Dimmadreki, don't ever scare me like that again!"

"I had to be sure," he said quietly. "The choice had to be mine. There was always that nagging doubt in the back of my mind – 'what if I could go back?' I thought I already knew the answer, but I had to settle it in my own head."

"Are you sure now?" she asked earnestly.

"Perfectly sure," he nodded, and glanced at the stain on the rock, then back at her. "Thank you for helping me focus on what really matters."

She glanced at the two bottles he'd taken out of the box and left on the ground. "Maybe you should drink that love potion and then look at me, just to be sure."

He snorted. "I don't need to do that! That question is completely settled. Besides, those bottles are probably full of nothing but colored sugar water anyway. Let's go find ourselves a home." They leaped into the air and continued their search, flying a little closer to each other than they usually did.

o

A/N
...and to all of you who are close to panicking because you want to know how the Vikings handled the events at the beginning of this chapter, I have three words for you. "Wait for it."