25 I Don’t Think I’m Dead

25. I DON'T THINK I'M DEAD... Fishlegs's weary face was looking back at him through the smoky glass of the column. 'Oh, Fishlegs!' cried Hiccup. 'I thought that you were dead!' 'No,' said Fishlegs. 'I'm not dead. At least… I don't think I'm dead…' His voice was very, very weak. 'Though I have to admit, I'm not feeling at my most lively. What with one thing and another I've had better weeks in the Archipelago.' Hiccup laughed, shakily. 'No, you're not dead, Fishlegs. You're in the lair of the Monster of the Amber Slavelands. The Monster likes eating fresh meat so it must have been keeping you alive.' 'Ah,' said Fishlegs. 'I knew I had a feeling I wasn't in a great situation…' 'Lean against the other side of the column, Fishlegs,' Hiccup ordered, and he began to swing his axe, gingerly cutting through one side of the glass column, being very, very careful, for he did not want to hurt Fishlegs when it broke. Thor's birthday, it was cold down there. Hiccup shivered as he swung his axe, the damp

seeping through his sandals, the cold of the underground glass tunnels penetrating right into his heart. 'Put your hands over your head, Fishlegs,' whispered Hiccup. (He didn't know why he was whispering– the Monster was dead but it was SPOOKY down there, in the dark, in the cold.) Chunk! Chunk! Two more swings of the axe and the glass column encasing Fishlegs fell away. His friend was standing there, curled over in a slight ball, his hands over his head. Slowly he brought down his arms. It was as if Hiccup was bringing a frozen statue into life. A bedraggled, weary figure he was. Tear- stained, rags flapping around him like the tatters of a scarecrow ripped to shreds, nearly blue with cold, his smashed glasses falling off his nose.

Hiccup was the very mirror-image of him. Neither of them were Vikings now. Lost Tribes, lost dragons, lost everything. Hungry, thin as brooms, the Slavemarks proclaiming their slavedom, both runts, the two boys stood looking at each other, swaying on their feet. Fishlegs was cold as ice, and Hiccup rubbed his purple arms, trying to get his circulation going. 'What are you doing here?' asked Fishlegs through chattering teeth. 'Looking for you…' 'But I'm not important,' said Fishlegs weakly and drearily. 'You ought to be on your Quest… Your destiny. What about the Dragon Jewel?' 'You are important!' said Hiccup, urgently trying to bring him back to life, by rubbing his arms, his chest, anything to try and warm him up. 'Your lobster-claw necklace saved my life.' 'Really?' said Fishlegs. He opened his eyes in disbelief. 'My necklace saved YOUR life?'

So Hiccup told Fishlegs the story of his mother, Termagant, and the Stealth Dragon, and the lobster pot lost in the mist fourteen years before. Who says stories cannot bring things to life? That story brought Fishlegs to life, all right. He turned from grey to a pale pink, and his heartbeat, so faint, flickered back into a steady rhythm. 'So my mother, she did love me after all!' said Fishlegs, in surprise. 'She wanted the best for me. She wanted to meet me again, on Hero's End!' 'And she would have done,' said Hiccup, 'if she had lived. And the Deadly Shadow dragon who has sworn to look after you, is now your Deadly Shadow.' Fishlegs had spent his whole life having the worst of everything. He had the embarrassingly vegetarian hunting-dragon, the riding-dragon that was the size of a Shetland pony. He had been bottom of the class in absolutely everything, plus he had eczema, asthma, knock-knees and short-sight. So it was a pretty amazing moment to discover that somewhere out there is a triple-headed, armed-to-the-teeth, ridiculously cool Deadly Shadow dragon that had sworn to look after you, and lay down its life for you. For the final boost, Hiccup drew out of his

waistcoat… the Dragon Jewel. It shone like a warm golden star in the darkness of that glass cavern. 'Oh…' breathed Fishlegs. He put out a hand and touched it. 'The Dragon Jewel,' whispered Fishlegs. He looked up at Hiccup… …and smiled, with excitement, for the first time in a long time. 'Hiccup, this really has got to mean that you are the King.' Hiccup smiled back awkwardly. 'Well, it means I'm pretty good at finding the King's Lost Things, anyway. But don't forget, you were here first.' Fishlegs stroked the Dragon Jewel for a few moments. And then slowly, he got to his feet. 'Right,' said Fishlegs. He pushed his smashed glasses determinedly and securely on to his nose. 'Now we have to get out of here. I just can't miss everybody seeing me on the back of a Triple-Header Deadly Shadow dragon, I'm sorry, it's just too good a moment.'

Hiccup grinned, and took out the blasted, ragged, burnt and soaked remains of the disintegrated map to look for the way out. The two boys walked through the tunnels until they found the one that Grimbeard had helpfully marked as the exit. And as they walked, the tunnels seemed to be leading higher and higher, and there was a strange light that wasn't the light of Electricsquirms or Electricstickys or Glow-worms, which had lit the cavern below, and suddenly the light felt as if it were all around them. And on the other side of the glass there were suddenly fern-shapes, moving and waving… Seaweed. The glass tunnel had emerged out of the sand and they were under the sea at the bottom of the ocean. Great drifts and shoals of fish drifted past, swimming in and out of the seaweed. Gentle jellyfish softly floated by, and as the tunnel moved up it left the seabed like a great glass snake, and they could see crabs scuttling below them. 'Wow.' Fishlegs pressed his nose up to the glass. The tunnel went up sharply now, and they slid so much they couldn't get a grip. Hiccup had to carve little nicks into the glass so they could get a foothold.