13 The Past has a Way of Catching Up with You

13. THE PAST HAS A WAY OF CATCHING UP WITH YOU Very, very early the next morning, the first drizzle of sun rose over the Dragon's Graveyard. The Red- Rage attack subsided with the first appearance of the sun, and the Exploding Things fell silent on the battlements. But who was this, picking his way in a little boat through the lingering smoke of the explosions, those grim cathedrals of dragons' bones where the seagulls are now shrieking? It was the Hairy Scary Librarian, an old enemy of Hiccup's. He was a tall bent sinister figure, with a beard so long it was dribbling after him in the water like he was taking it for a swim, and two amber-nets on long poles that he called his 'Heart-Slicers'. The S on the Librarian's forehead proclaimed that he was a slave, but he was what was known as a 'trusty' slave, which meant that the prison guards trusted him to go out of the prison for short tasks and expeditions such as this one. He was collecting up the spears and ammunition so the Wilderwest Warriors could use them when the Rebellion attacked again tomorrow night.

The Hairy Scary Librarian poled his way past the dismal fresh corpse of a gigantic Rhinoback. He spotted something by a little island, hidden in the reeds. He stretched out his right-hand Heart-Slicer, and picked up the something in the net, and hauled it dripping wet into his boat. It was a helmet. The Hairy Scary Librarian tipped the helmet over, pouring out the water. 'Tick-tock' went the wheels in his brain, as he remembered the Visithug Warriors returning to the prison several weeks ago, saying how they had nearly caught Hiccup the Outcast, undoing dragon-traps again. They had described Hiccup as wearing a very particular helmet. One, just like this one, with that rather stupid broken plume on the top. 'So-ho,' whispered the Hairy Scary Librarian, smiling a horrid smile. 'This is Hiccup's helmet, is it? Which meanssss,' smiled the Librarian, laughing wheezily to himself, 'that Hiccup is somewhere in the prison, and I can tell the witch, and get my own back on that horrible little Hiccup who is the reason I am here in the first place… and get my freedom into the bargain!'

The Librarian turned, and poled his way back to Prison Darkheart, slaloming crazily through the corpses, with all the eagerness of one who has waited long to settle an old score. Everything we do, you see, has its consequences and repercussions, every kind act, and every bad, every friend we make, and every enemy. Everything is connected.