19 The Monster and the Slave-Boy

19. THE MONSTER AND THE SLAVE-BOY The Deadly Shadow landed lightly on the sand. Hiccup scrambled from his back and ran to the confused mess of belongings. Maybe it wasn't Fishlegs… Perhaps it was some other poor soul. It could have been ANYBODY, after all, they lost people to the Evil Reaches every day. But when he reached the sand-yacht, Hiccup spotted something half-buried. With a shaking hand, Hiccup drew it out. The crushed, mangled remains of something. The 'something' was Fishlegs's precious rucksack. He had made that rucksack out of the lobster pot that he had been found in when he was a baby, and it contained the few belongings that he had owned in the world. Just to be absolutely certain, when Hiccup picked it up, a smashed bottle of Old Wrinkly's asthma potion fell out, and the potion leaked like blood staining into the sand. Hiccup tried to re-shape the crushed, mangled remains of the lobster-pot-cum-rucksack back into its original shape.

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This was it then. This meant that Fishlegs really was dead. There was no hiding from it any more. The Story of the Monster of the Amber Slavelands had been true after all. It had been true and it had happened to Fishlegs. Behind Hiccup crept the giant shining heads of the Deadly Shadow. The poor animal seemed crushed. He had hoped against hope, and now those hopes had been crushed again. The three heads sniffed the lobster pot. 'What was his name?' asked Patience. 'Fishlegs,' said Hiccup, crying.

'Fissssshlegssss,' they hissed, waving like they were being snake-charmed again. 'Fissshlegsssss… Fisssshlegssss… Fissshlegssss…' they chanted performing a sad dance around the lobster-pot. They seemed to recognise the lobster-pot, strangely, and they drank in the smell of it like it was the smell of the past. (There is nothing more evocative, nothing that brings back memories like smell.) Hiccup held it up to the heads, unable to stop crying. 'I shouldn't have let him give me the lucky necklace,' sobbed Hiccup.

'I shouldn't have let him give away what little luck he had.' 'He may not be dead,' said the left head, Innocence, hopefully looking around. 'There are many islands around here. Maybe he got away. Perhaps he found one of the islands. Maybe he's still there…' 'Oh,' snorted Arrogance, 'you're deluded! Always looking on the bright side. He's clearly dead.' At that, Hiccup felt overwhelmed. He sank down, crying, on the sand. The Deadly Shadow cried too. Even Camicazi and the Stormfly cried, and they never cried. Hiccup could feel the wet sand below him, the red of the asthma potion that he had broken seeping into the front of his dragonskin fire-suit. He cried until he was a little empty cried-out rag lying on the sand, the front of him now stained red. A light rain was falling on him now. He could feel the sand below him getting a little wetter, as if the tide was going to rise.

GO BACK. Something inside was speaking to him. Go back and find the Jewel. Become the King. Do it for Fishlegs and everyone like him. Defiantly, Hiccup dried his eyes with the edge of his sleeve. He put the broken remains of Fishlegs' lobster-pot on his back, and staggered blindly towards the Deadly Shadow dragon. Without a word, Camicazi was doing the same. But then they stopped dead, for the Deadly Shadow was having an argument with itself again. 'If this Fissshlegssss is dead,' hissed Arrogance, 'then we no longer need keep our promise about the lobster-necklace.' 'But Fisshlegsss may not be dead!' said Innocence. (Neither Arrogance nor Patience looked very convinced by this argument.) 'And this boy is a friend of this Fisshlegsssss,' argued Innocence. Patience was still undecided. 'The boy seeks the Jewel,' hissed Arrogance. 'And the Jewel must never fall into human hands… 'If we kill him, at least we keep our promise to the Dragon Furious, and the Jewel will be safe. For