The Blacksmith's Apprentice

Thirty Four: For The Future Of Berk

Thirty-Four: For the Future of Berk

"Okay, we need to get Puff to breathe some gas into this cannister..." Hiccup was leaning forward, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Okay, it's..." He stared at the young boy again, wide grey-blue eyes appearing totally innocent which he had already learned to distrust.

"Odd-Knut," the boy said innocently.

"Of course-what was I thinking? What else would it be?"

"It's a good old Berkian name," the boy protested.

"That it is," Hiccup sighed. "And I guess there are lots of Knuts as well as Nuts in the family?" The boy nodded happily.

"Loads."

"Any Knutnuts?" he asked, fascinated despite himself. Odd-Knut nodded proudly.

"Five so far, sir-but I really want to call my son Knutnut because that would be awesomely cool," he announced and Hiccup rolled his eyes.

"And probably awesomely descriptive," he admitted. "Okay, trying to get somewhere back to sanity-though that's a stretch in this place-can you ask Puff to breathe her gas into this canister so we can hold some for the attack?"

"I can ask her," the boy said proudly.

"And Brit-can you stop Blast from sparking the gas please-we need to save the explosion for later..." The girl, her almost identical grey-blue eyes and long blonde hair making her a duplicate of her brother, looked incredibly disappointed.

"That's the best bit!" she huffed. Hiccup laid a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.

"I know," he soothed her. "But if we're to blow up the Chief Dragon, we need loads more Zippleback gas than even two Zipplebacks can provide at once-so we have to store it...like storing milk or honey when there's plenty around for later..."

"I know Puff and Blast would be up to it..." she argued. He sighed.

"But we can't take them to her-because the Chief Dragon would take control of her and you could lose her forever." He paused. "I saw the Chief Dragon eat a Zippleback whole when I rescued Astrid from the nest." Two pairs of eyes grew rounder and they shared a look then nodded.

"Okay-if she's mean to Zipplebacks, we'll do it!" Brit promised and the young Viking turned back to the boy.

"Okay, Puff-can we have some gas please?" he asked, holding the flask right up to her open mouth. The dragon opened her hideously fanged mouth and a jet of the sweet, narcotic green gas poured out into the flask and around Hiccup. He capped the first and filled a second while his vision grew muzzier. He was just fumbling with the third flask when a horribly familiar clicking noise sounded.

"No, Blast-we have to..."

BOOM!

The explosion threw Hiccup across the Plaza and he hit the front of the forge hard. Lightly singed and coughing out smoke, he triumphantly held up the third flask.

"Gottit!" he coughed.

"Babe-you do know that most of the flask has been blown apart?" Astrid asked, emerging from the bakery. Hiccup peered at the detached neck he was holding and lay back with a groan. "Brit Gunnarson-I saw that!" Astrid added in a wrathful voice, bearing down on the sniggering twins. "And I saw the hand-signal as well! That was no accident!" There was a dual sigh.

"No, Mrs Astrid," the twins sighed.

"Okay, Brit-off you go. Twice around the Plaza! NOW!" The young girl sighed and ran off. While her preferred punishment for the older teens was push-ups, the younger kids didn't have the arm strength-so Astrid burnt off their excess energy by making them run. The Gunnarson twins used to circle the Plaza a couple of times before they even started her weapons lessons because it earned them some valuable credit they would always need partway in. Then she leaned close and picked up the next flask-and handed it to Odd-Knut. "Hiccup has shown you what to do," she told him briskly. "Hold each flask directly in the stream of gas for the count of twenty and then cap it off. Do two only then get a breather before you faint from the gas. Understood? And if you blow yourself up, you can explain it to the Chief."