How to Train Your Dragon: How to Cheat a Dragon's Curse Read online

BEING SHOT, YOU… WRIGGLING RUFFIAN

  RUBBISH!’

  ‘Look what you’ve d-d-done!’ moaned

  Toothless. ‘Those Hysterics are going to be so m-m-

  mad!’

  Mad those Hysterics certainly were, as mad as

  fire, and Hiccup set off down the mountain like a little

  bolt of lightning.

  ‘We’ve got a head start,’ panted Hiccup, skiing

  faster than he ever had done in his entire life.

  ‘But it’s not going to be enough,’ gloated One

  Eye with relish. ‘You’ve got half the mountain to ski

  down, and they’re going to catch up.’

  Sure enough, a horribly short time afterwards,

  Hiccup could hear the Hysterics beginning their pursuit

  behind him.

  Five of the Hysterics were howling the Hysterical

  Howl like a pack of insane high-pitched wolves, and the

  sixth, the one with the Axe, was screaming more

  personal insults.

  ‘How DARE you assault MY Royal Buttocks,

  you midget Hooligan Assassin! We Hysterics are the best

  Hunters in the entire world, and when I get hold of you

  I shall chop you with my Chopper and feed you to the

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  Doomfang, I shall

  shoot you full of

  arrows and use you

  as a colander!’ yelled the

  Hysteric with the Axe.

  ‘Charming!’ grinned One Eye.

  ‘Fond of visitors, are they, the Hysterics?’

  Hiccup headed straight for the

  woods, thinking they would find it harder

  to shoot him in there.

  Now, skiing through a thickly forested area is

  dangerous hard work, and the first rule you should

  follow in normal circumstances is to go SLOWLY.

  These were not normal circumstances, and

  Hiccup screamed through that forest, madly twisting

  and turning, far too fast for safety.

  ‘B-b-be careful!’ warned Toothless helpfully.

  ‘M-m-mind the trees!’

  ‘Oh thank you, Toothless,’ panted Hiccup

  sarcastically, as he swerved violently this way and that,

  ‘I never thought of that…’

  Dragons have quicker reflexes than humans,

  so One Eye and Toothless followed with ease. But the

  Hysterics weren’t doing too badly either. Hiccup did

  hear one crash, as one of the Hysterics didn’t turn in

  time and smashed into a tree.

  But that left five Hysterics still chasing after him,

  and from the sound of their spine-creeping Hysterical

  Howls, getting closer by the second…

  ‘You cannot get away!’ screamed the Big Brute

  with the Axe. ‘When I get hold of you, I shall tear you

  limb from limb and use your wishbone as a toothpick!’

  Meanwhile, down at the bottom of the gorge,

  Gobber had woken from his nap, and ten of his young

  pupils had returned from their hunting trip.

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  Gobber had harnessed five Sabre-Tooth Drivers

  to the sleigh, and was waiting for the return of Hiccup

  and Fishlegs.

  ‘I shot ninety Snowpeckers,’ boasted Speedifist

  to an impressed Wartihog.

  ‘That’s NOTHING,’ crowed Snotlout. ‘I got two

  hundred and four… easy-peasy lemon squeezy, it was

  like shooting fish in a barrel. Even Hiccup the Useless

  and his ridiculous Fishlegged friend must have got a few

  today, they can’t be THAT pathetic.’

  ‘WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO THOSE

  NUMBSKULLS?’ roared Gobber, beginning to feel a

  little uneasy. For Hiccup was the son of the Chief, Stoick

  the Vast, O Hear His Name and Tremble, Ugh, Ugh, and

  Stoick had a nasty temper and wouldn’t be too pleased

  if anything had happened to his only son.

  ‘Maybe they got ambushed by Snowpeckers?’

  sneered Snotlout.

  There was a shouting from the gorge, and down

  it like an erratic snowploughing rocket came Fishlegs,

  arms whirring like windmills. Fishlegs was going so fast

  he couldn’t possibly stop. He went on past the sleigh,

  past the open-mouthed Gobber and the boys, and on

  and on for fifty metres until he eventually came to a

  stop, and collapsed on the ice.

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  Gobber ran after him, with a very nasty feeling

  now in the bottom of his stomach, and picked

  Fishlegs up.

  Fishlegs looked terrible, purple and sweaty and

  trembling.

  ‘HICCUP?’ shouted Gobber. ‘WHERE is

  HICCUP?’

  ‘Hysterics…’ gasped Fishlegs. ‘A…a…a…cchoo!

  Hysterics…’

  Gobber turned as white as a Semi-Spotted

  Snowpecker.

  Up above, Hiccup shot out of the cover of the

  trees like an arrow from a bow.

  Directly below him was the gorge… he could

  see the little speck of Gobber’s sleigh, and little dots

  moving around it. The other boys must have made it

  back, then…

  Hiccup knew that if he skied down the gorge,

  he would never make it. The Hysterics were so close

  behind him now they would shoot him or catch him

  before he reached the bottom.

  He had to make a split-second decision.

  Instead of heading towards the gorge, he set his

  teeth grimly and pointed his skis to the right, down the

  slope that led directly to the clifftop.

  58

  ‘What are you d-d-doing?’ shrieked Toothless.

  ‘This w-w-way issa two hundred metre cliff! You

  going to d-d-die!’

  Behind him, the Hysterics burst out of the

  woods. When they saw where Hiccup was going, they

  didn’t even bother to start shooting. They just swooped

  after him, shouting out jeeringly:

  ‘Where do you think you’re going, Hooligan

  SCUM?’

  ‘Say hello to Valhalla for me, because that’s

  where you’ll end up!’

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  They could see the edge of the cliff now, where

  the snow ended, and it was just an endless drop into

  nothingness.

  ‘Stop!’ shrieked Toothless. ‘S-S-STOP!!’

  ‘Why?’ asked Hiccup. ‘I haven’t got any choice.

  You think those Hysterics are going to give me a big

  warm hug and let me go?’

  ‘N-n-no!’ screamed Toothless. ‘But you can’t ski

  off a c-c-cliff! Issa long way D-D-DOWN!’

  ‘That’s why I need your help, One Eye,’ said

  Hiccup to the great Sabre-Tooth Dragon, who was

  bounding alongside.

  ‘And what makes you

  think,’ sneered One Eye, ‘that I

  WANT to help you? I hate Humans.

  One less of you little pink slave-drivers isn’t

  going to trouble ME.’

  ‘That’s true,’ said Hiccup, ‘but if I die, the

  next Chief of the Hairy Hooligan Tribe will be…’

  Hiccup had run out of slope. He launched

  himself off the cliff, throwing his weight forward, skis

  wide apart. One Eye followed, unfolding his great wings.

  ‘Will be who?’ said One Eye urgently. ‘Will be who?’

  For one moment Hiccup soared up into that glorious

  infinity of blue sky like a bird.

&nbs
p; And then he plunged DOWN.

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  yelled Hiccup

  as he fell.

  Hiccup screamed

  towards the ice at a hundred

  and fifty miles per hour.

  Gobber the Belch, watching from

  below as the precious son of his Boss was about

  to fall to his death, screamed as well.

  In three seconds Hiccup would smash into the

  ground and that would be the end of him.

  After one second Hiccup was pretty sure One

  Eye would save him.

  After two seconds he wasn’t so sure.

  And in fact the great Sabre-Tooth Driver Dragon

  was only just in time. For vital milliseconds his hatred of

  humans held him back…

  But then he folded back his wings and dived

  after Hiccup.

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  A Sabre-Tooth can dive more swiftly and

  beautifully than a peregrine falcon. One Eye caught

  Hiccup around the waist with his great talons in the nick

  of time, and then swept upwards, wings stretched out

  like a great white kite. Hiccup gave a whoop of joy.

  Down below, the watching boys cheered, and

  started the Hooligan Hurrah. Gobber practically fainted,

  such was his relief.

  ‘Snotface Snotlout,’ said One Eye, as he spread

  his wings wide. ‘Is he the tall red-headed boy with a

  face like a pig?’

  ‘That’s the one,’ crowed Hiccup happily.

  ‘Then you’re right,’ replied One Eye, soaring

  even higher. ‘Perhaps you are one Human worth

  saving…’

  Up on the clifftops, the Big Brute of

  a Hysteric with the Axe was so angry he

  snapped his ski-poles like twigs. His

  furious voice floated up to them:

  ‘YOU’RE NOT SAFE

  YET! YOU’RE NOT SAFE

  EVER!’ screamed

  the Big Brute,

  completely

  beside himself.

  ‘WHEREVER YOU GO I SHALL FIND YOU! I

  SHALL FOLLOW YOU TO THE ENDS OF THE

  EARTH, TO THE BOTTOM OF THE OCEAN,

  IN THE GOD-LIKE HEIGHTS OF THE SKY!

  I PROMISE YOU, YOU HOOLIGAN COCKROACH,

  THAT YOU WILL REGRET THE DAY YOU SHOT

  AN ARROW IN THE BOTTOM OF NORBERT THE

  NUTJOB!!’ and then the sound became too faint for

  them to hear any more.

  ‘Remind me,’ Hiccup said to Toothless as they

  flew along, ‘not to come back to Hysteria any time

  in the next twenty years…’

  ‘E-e-ever,’ replied Toothless passionately. ‘Not

  come back EVER.’

  Sabre-Tooth Drivers are so bulky and muscular,

  they can only fly short distances, so One Eye dropped

  right down and placed Hiccup in the sleigh of a very

  relieved Gobber the Belch. Gobber took one look at the

  Hysterics on the clifftops, shaking their fists and howling

  the Hysterical Howl, and judged it might not be a good

  idea to stick around. He loaded Fishlegs and the other

  boys back on to the sleigh and, cheering and singing, they

  followed the flying Sabre-Tooth all the way back to the

  little Isle of Berk.

  64

  4. IS THERE SOMETHING

  WRONG WITH FISHLEGS?

  Hiccup did not sleep well that night. Every time he

  dropped off, Norbert the Nutjob found him in his

  dreams, screaming, ‘I will GRIND YOU INTO SAND!

  I WILL CHOP YOU WITH MY CHOPPER!’ and

  Hiccup would wake up again, burningly hot and sweaty.

  The following day, Toothless woke up in a furious

  temper because he still wasn’t back in Hibernation Sleep.

  He’d done everything he should have done the night

  before. He’d taken lots of exercise, drunk a milky drink

  at bedtime; all for nothing. On the dot of five o’clock the

  next morning, his greengage eyes opened up, SNAP, like

  a scallop opening its shell, and that was it for the day, no

  more sleeping.

  And that was it for Hiccup too.

  Toothless crawled up from his place at Hiccup’s

  feet, like a small, enraged hot-water bottle. He stormed

  up Hiccup’s body, digging his sharp little claws into

  Hiccup’s tummy as he went, up to Hiccup’s forehead,

  where he sat and hissed furiously.

  ‘Toothless a-a-awake AGAIN… ’Snot fair…

  ’Snot fair… WHY Toothless awake? Everyone else

  a-a-asleep…’

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  It is not much

  fun being woken up

  at five o’clock in the

  morning by a dragon

  sitting on your head

  and hissing angry

  smoke rings straight

  up your nostrils.

  ‘Well I’M awake now too,’ grumbled Hiccup,

  coughing sleepily. ‘Could you blow those smoke rings

  somewhere else, I’ve already got a sore throat…’

  ‘Oh you,’ fumed Toothless, blowing out great

  clouds of furious smoke. ‘You’re j-j-just a H-h-human,

  you don’t count… us d-d-dragons s-s-sensitive… we

  n-n-need our sleep.’

  ‘Thank you, Toothless,’ said Hiccup through

  a huge bout of coughing, ‘but we don’t have to get up

  now, you know, we can just doze for a bit…’

  Hiccup turned over on to his other side and

  snuggled the furs more cosily around his shoulders, so he

  could snooze for a bit longer.

  But once Toothless was awake he was AWAKE.

  The little dragon made a half-hearted pretence of

  snuggling down next to his Master, and then he bounced

  up again.

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  ‘Toothless get UP now…’ he said, flapping

  around Hiccup’s head, tweaking his hair and blowing

  raspberries in his ears. ‘Issa l-l-lovely morning…

  come on… come on… Toothless h-h-hungry…

  Hiccup make Toothless b-b-breakfast…’

  And when that didn’t work, Toothless stood on

  Hiccup’s shoulder, held his ear lobe tenderly with one

  claw, and shrieked right down his ear hole, ‘MAYDAY

  MAYDAY! Toothless need to make p-p-pee-pee

  RIGHT NOW!’

  Hiccup sat bolt upright like he’d been shot

  with an arrow. ‘Oh jumping jellyfish, not right now,

  Toothless, not on the bed again… hang on there,

  Toothless, just hang on…’

  Hiccup jumped out of the bed in one hop, on to

  the freezing cold stone floor, and threw on four layers of

  furs, with Toothless flapping round his head squawking,

  ‘RIGHT NOW, RIGHT NOW, Toothless need pee-

  pee RIGHT NOW.’

  ‘Just hang on!’ begged Hiccup. He had to take

  his mittens off to undo the big bolts on the front door,

  Toothless shrieking, ‘Right now! Right now! Right

  now!’

  Hiccup dragged open the door, and the day

  outside was still as dark as night-time and very, very cold,

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  so cold that the air was like an icy bucket of water being

  thrown in your face.

  Toothless flew out, still shrieking, ‘Right now!

  Right now!’ and squatted down on the snow a metre

  out of the front door.

  ‘Well done for hanging on, Toothless,’

  said Hiccup, b
anging his hands together to warm

  them up. Toothless squatted down, a look of pretend

  concentration furrowing his horns, but nothing seemed

  to be happening.

  After a while Toothless got up. ‘Toothless NOT

  need p-p-pee-pee after all…’ he said decidedly.

  Hiccup clapped his mittened hand to his forehead

  in frustration.

  Sometimes being the owner of a dragon was

  VERY HARD WORK.

  There was no point going back to bed now that

  he’d got up so Hiccup fixed himself breakfast, and while

  he did this he had plenty of time to think.

  Hiccup was worried about Fishlegs. Why had

  Fishlegs attacked those Hysterics? It was very out of

  character. Normally Fishlegs would only have to get a sniff

  of something like a Hysteric and he would snowplough as

  quickly as possible in the opposite direction. OK, maybe

  all that falling over had set off his Berserk tendencies, but

  still, it was a bit peculiar…

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  And Fishlegs hadn’t been looking too well, lately,

  either. Lots of sneezing and shivering, and that couldn’t

  be caused by being a Berserk. It was almost like there

  was something WRONG WITH HIM…

  An hour or so later, the door was flung open so

  wildly it nearly fell off its hinges, and Hiccup’s father,

  Stoick the Vast, stomped into the room looking for his

  breakfast, like a six-and-a-half-foot earthquake, yawning

  so wide you could see his tonsils. Stoick the Vast was

  exactly what you might expect a Viking to be – loads of

  beard and not a lot of neck, masses of muscles but not a

  lot going on in the BRAIN department.

  ‘Made some porridge, have you, son?’ he roared.

  ‘Excellent, excellent.’ Stoick didn’t bother putting the

  porridge into a bowl. He simply removed the cauldron

  from the fire, sat down at the table, and drank the

  porridge straight from the pot.

  ‘Father?’ said Hiccup.

  ‘Mmm?’ said Stoick absent-mindedly, as he

  tipped his great head back and drank the last dregs of

  porridge, a lot of it running down his beard in a sticky,

  lumpy river.

  ‘I wonder if you can help me… I’ve been

  worrying about Fishlegs…’ said Hiccup.