Dimmadreki Chapter 15
Back in Berk, that simple name, spelled out in runes in the dirt, set off an earthquake.
Four reliable witnesses had watched the dragon land, allow Fishlegs to climb off its back, and write those runes before flying away. The implications were unmistakable, and the conclusion could not be missed by anyone except a blind man, a madman, or a Spitelout.
"There has to be some other explanation!" he blustered in the middle of the town meeting. "Maybe it saw Hiccup's name written somewhere and learned to copy it!" A day or two ago, he'd had no problem arguing that a dragon might be Hiccup; now he was arguing against it, just because everyone else was ready to believe it now. If the people began to sound skeptical, he'd switch again and argue in favor of a draconic Hiccup, just to keep the argument going.
"Hiccup's name has never been written anywhere where a Night Fury could see it," the chief replied, his voice heavy with grief. "There is no other explanation. My son is a dragon." He would have used the exact same tone of voice to say, "My son is dead."
"At least he's a dragon that nobody can kill," Tuffnut suggested helpfully. Astrid did a facepalm, and Ruffnut shoved her brother's helmet down over his eyes.
"So what do we do?" Phlegma demanded. "Are you telling us we can't shoot at Night Furies anymore?"
"No," Stoick sighed. "I can't do that to our village. Night Furies are still fair game for anyone who thinks he can hit one. There will be no penalty from me if you... get one."
"Sir, I told you – Dimmadreki, I mean Hiccup promised me he'd never attack this village!" Fishlegs was aghast at where this discussion was going.
"He blasted the gate of the training ring and freed all the dragons!" Spitelout burst out. "He single-handedly shut down our entire dragon training program! Doesn't that count as an attack on the village?"
"He didn't kill anyone, or hurt anybody, or burn any buildings, like dragons usually do!" Fishlegs had never tried to defend a dragon before; he hoped his attempt to defend this one would work out better than his attempts to attack them. "Hiccup never broke a promise that I know of."
"I'm hopin' yer right, laddie," Gobber said. "But a dragon never made us a promise before, so we dinna know if they keep their word."
"They're lying, destructive, evil beasts, every one of them!" Spitelout exclaimed. "They can't be trusted!" A few dozen Vikings shouted to show that they agreed.
"Sir, I trust Hiccup!" Fishlegs wasn't letting himself be intimidated this time.
"So do I," Stoick answered, somewhat reluctantly. "But how can we tell a good Night Fury from a bad Night Fury?"
"If it attacks us, it's bad." Snotlout had it all figured out, and was rather pleased with himself when several Vikings muttered their agreement.
"The only good Night Fury is a dead Night Fury!" That was Spitelout's solution, and he got some agreement as well.
"What about takin' them alive?" Gobber asked. "That might be the best solution."
"That's going to be hard, sir," Fishlegs answered. "They're leaving Berk, and I don't know where they're going to be living. I don't think they know."
Stoick stood up. "In the end, it doesn't matter. We haven't had any luck shooting at Night Furies, good or bad. Life in Berk is going to go on, the same as it always has." He glanced at Spitelout. "Except that you need to start training your son to take over this tribe some day."
"I've already been doing that," Spitelout answered smugly.
Stoick scowled. "It's not working. Train him harder. This meeting is dismissed." Several of the women tried to console him over his loss as he slowly walked to the door.
He paused when he passed next to Fishlegs. "Young man, it seems you were telling the truth all along. If we still had a dragon training class, you'd be invited to re-join it in the morning."
"Thank you, sir," Fishlegs said humbly, "but I really like being a baker. I'd like to stay where I am, if that's all right." Stoick nodded – his mind was far, far away – and walked out the door.
Against the nearby wall, the twins were edging nervously away from Astrid, who looked like she was on the verge of exploding like a Night Fury's firebolt. Not only was she unable to complete her victory at dragon training, but everyone in town was talking about Fishlegs, the dragon rider, instead of her! Worst of all, she realized that her parents might try to marry her off to Snotlout, now that he was the future chief. Her life had taken a sudden and dramatic turn for the worse.
Snotlout had no such worries. He swaggered up to Astrid with his usual cocky grin. "So, pretty lady, what do you say? Now that I've got a grand and glorious future ahead of me, I'm going to need a chief's wife to help me bask in glory. Maybe you and me should…" He broke off with a grunt and doubled over; an elbow in his midsection was not the answer he was expecting. Astrid stormed out of the Hall angrily. Future chief or no future chief, there were limits to what she was willing to handle. Even Fishlegs would be preferable to that beast!
o
The Night Furies flew in ever-wider circles around Berk, trying to find a place where they could live for a few weeks and stay out of trouble. Every island they saw was either inhabited by humans, or was too barren to make a decent home, or had something else wrong with it. Myrkrid wasn't being too picky; Dimmadreki had to agree with her every objection.
At last, an unusual island came into view. It was dominated by a tall, angry-looking volcano, and was surrounded by impenetrable fog and rows of jagged sea stacks. "Could that be a good place for us?" Dimmadreki asked.
"It looks perfect, which means there are probably dragons there already," she answered, "but we'll take a look, just in case." They gained altitude easily, made sure they weren't about to plunge into a crater full of magma, and prepared to fly down into the volcano. Suddenly she exclaimed, "Hold it!" They backwinged and landed on the edge of the cone.
"I smell dragons, lots of them," she said urgently. "That means there's a whole flock of them in here. They're probably the ones who raided your town. Do you know what that means?"
Dimmadreki thought fast. "It means they're all enslaved."
"Yes, and it also means there's probably a Monster in there somewhere. I don't care how curious you are – we are not going in there!"
"I'll trust your judgment on that one," he nodded, then glanced down into the cone. "But it looks like a few of them are coming up to meet us. Tell me how I can know if they're enslaved."
"There's a glassy look in their eyes," she answered quickly. "It's more felt than seen; they're unaware of it. Remember – if the Monster comes up, get out of there fast, and do not look in her eyes! If you do, I'll lose you forever!" They ended their conversation as the first of the volcano dragons, two blue Nadders and a dark-brown Gronckle, landed on the rim next to them.
"Night Furies!" a Nadder exclaimed.
"A matched pair, by the look of them," the Gronckle decided.
The other Nadder gave Myrkrid a sniff. "Soon to be a trio, unless I miss my guess. Welcome to the Nest!"
"Please come in and join us," the Gronckle added. "It's a friendly place, and we've got plenty of room for new arrivals. Especially Night Furies. We haven't seen a new Night Fury in decades!" A Nightmare and two more Gronckles joined them, adding their voices to the invitations to join this nest.
Dimmadreki tried to look into their eyes. Sure enough, there was a vague mistiness there that he hadn't seen in his mate, or in the Changewings. They seemed so friendly, so open! It was hard to believe they were being controlled by an evil mind. But Myrkrid had assured him that it was so, and he trusted her.
She was trying to fend off all the invitations. "We can't stay; we're just passing through. Thank you, but we can't stay." The other dragons seemed disappointed.
Then another dragon joined them, and her voice faded away to nothing. This one was a Night Fury... a male. The two of them stared at each other. "Tannlaus?" she finally asked.
"Myrkrid, is that you?" he exclaimed. "I haven't seen you in six years or more!"
With a chill, Dimmadreki remembered Myrkrid's words. "I've had two mates... The second one let himself get enslaved." Awkward! This new Night Fury was a bit bigger than he was, and he had that glassy look in his eyes. "Maybe I should disappear for a while," he quavered.
"No, you shouldn't," Myrkrid rebutted him, and restrained him with a wing. "Tannlaus, this is Dimmadreki."
The other Night Fury immediately figured out what was going on; he favored Dimmadreki with a toothy snarl. Then he turned back to Myrkrid. "What happened to 'us'?" he asked. "We were a couple for life, weren't we?"
"You broke that when you let yourself fall under the sway of that Monster," she retorted, and Dimmadreki heard some pain in her voice. "There could never be an 'us' after that. I didn't dare go near you! I still don't dare!"
Tannlaus looked hurt. "Don't tell me you've fallen for that propaganda! That's just a lot of envy from dragons who wish they could rule a nest like the Titan does, but can't do it! The Titan has stopped all the fighting that usually happens when a hundred dragons get together. We've got shelter, we've got food... what else could a dragon ask for?"
"How about freedom?" she shot back. "How about not being forced to attack the humans and steal their food, and then give it all to your Monster? How about being allowed to live our lives in peace, instead of going to war against the Vikings when we have no quarrel with them? How about seeing an end to the useless deaths and injuries you suffer whenever you swoop down on those spear-filled villages? And how about an end to the poor dragons who get eaten alive when they don't keep your so-called Titan happy?"
"That's a lie!" Tannlaus exclaimed. He turned suspiciously on Dimmadreki. "Did you teach her all this nonsense?"
"She's the one who taught it to me," he said nervously.
"Then be smart, and fold your ear flaps down before she fills you with her poison," the other Night Fury growled. The other dragons were edging away from this uncomfortable scene. "Myrkrid, I'm willing to forgive you for leaving me, and I'll even think about taking you back, but you have got to stop spreading this vicious propaganda! You've gotten worse since the last time I saw you."
"It's not happening," she replied heatedly. "Even if you weren't under that Monster's control, I'm very happy with the mate I've got. You and I could have had a future together, but you traded it away for the slavery that you call 'peace.' Some decisions can't be undone."
She was about to say more when a low bellow rose from inside the volcano. All the local dragons scattered; Myrkrid was right behind them; but Dimmadreki couldn't help taking a curious look inside the cone.
The largest dragon he had ever imagined was quickly rising to the top of the volcano, and for a moment, he gazed straight into its eyes.
o
A/N
"Tannlaus" is Icelandic for "toothless."