26 A Ghost from the Past

26. A GHOST FROM THE PAST Sometimes our little human splashings are not enough. However hard we try, however strong our heroic human wills (and us humans have such a capacity, such a heroic capacity for believing that the impossible might be possible), sometimes our ridiculously puny human arms are too weak. Sometimes the world is just too big for us, the hurricane too wild, the sea so huge, that it wears out even the bravest of hearts, the strongest of wills. So it would have been with Fishlegs and Hiccup, I have to tell you– they would have drowned that day in the seas around the Amber Slavelands, despite everything, despite their miraculous escape from the Maze of Mirrors and the lair of the Slitherfang. Hiccup would have sunk to the ocean floor with the Dragon Jewel around his neck, and this story would have had a very different kind of ending. If it hadn't been for one thing. That one thing was flying right now on invisible wings, above the oceans of the Amber Slavelands, searching, searching. A ghost from the past. A ghost that was hoping to make amends, a ghost

that was never going to give up because of the promise he made to Fishlegs's mother. The Deadly Shadow would not give up. 'There is always hope,' whispered Innocence. 'Remember the last time this happened we gave up, and Fisshlegss was still alive? You have to learn from stories. We will not give up this time…' Even the boundless optimism of Camicazi, riding on the back of the Deadly Shadow, was fading. Of course it was, for had she not seen with her very own eyes, Hiccup dragged down under the sands by some terrifying eyes-on-claws monster? With a howl of terror, the Deadly Shadow had dug at the spot with his great claws, and she had dived down and joined in with her own pathetic human hands, digging, digging, digging at the spot they last saw him. But sometimes the world is too big even for dragon claws. The Deadly Shadow was an Air Dragon, not a Sea Dragon, not an Earth Dweller– he was not built for burrowing. He could not follow Hiccup underneath the sand, however hard he dug. But on, on, he and Camicazi dug, until the great tide swept in, and swallowed up their pathetic diggings, their pointless hole and turned the world to water.

Hours and hours they searched the world-now-turned-to-ocean. I do not know what moral you can take from this apart from one: they carried on, even though all hope was lost, for it was impossible that Hiccup should have survived being buried deep under sand and under ocean. 'But perhaps he wriggled out of the Monster's claws at the last moment,' said Camicazi to the Deadly Shadow. 'Trust me, guys, I have seen Hiccup survive so many other impossible situations…' But yet again, this seemed like even more of an impossible situation to survive than the last one. Nonetheless, they carried on, and it was good that they did, for as we know, despite all odds, Hiccup had survived, and he and Fishlegs needed them now. The Deadly Shadow had gone back in time. He had forgotten that thirteen years had passed. It was as if it were that very same day that he promised his human, Termagant: 'By our bright-green blood and our shining claws, we will keep your baby safe.' Just such a day it had been, a day of blue, with just a hint of clouds on the edge of the world. 'We promise… We promise…' Patience muttered

to the others in Dragonese. 'We promise, Termagant, we will keep your baby safe…' 'We promisse… We promissse…' Arrogance and Innocence whispered back. Swooping over the blue expanse of ocean, the endless waves that stretched for ever, they searched for a little lobster pot, bobbing on the waves. Their six Deadly Shadow eyes, the sharpest eyes in the world, the eyes that can see a nanodragon moving from a distance of half a mile, clicking, clicking, scanning the ocean. Their senses all alert. Then, with panic rising, they could feel the clouds moving in, suddenly, a mist beginning to form… Surely history could not be about to repeat itself? Surely this was a day of second chances? They swooped down further, desperately looking for the little lobster pot. And the Deadly Shadow found it. Way down below, a flicker of movement, a smudge of pink, of human life, a tiny wriggle on the endless stretch of blue. Down the Deadly Shadow swooped, joy leaping in his camouflaged breast, and as they soared closer, Camicazi could see it too, and she let out a joyful whoop.

A smashed and broken lobster pot, attached to the back of a boy swimming, a boy with a lobster-claw necklace around his neck. The boy was supporting another boy with broken glasses, and even at the height it was flying, the dragon could see in the face of that boy, the smudged and vague outline, the wet bedraggled memory of a human it had loved. Termagant's child!

'We'll meet again, Termagant! We'll meet again!' snorted the three heads of the Deadly Shadow triumphantly, shooting out bolts of lightning as he swooped ever downwards.