It seemed as if Hel's house opened up just in front of the gate. The dull field of Hel had shrunk significantly, the many trees and streams and even people vanishing in favor of a mere stretch of grass between house and Hel's gate. She must have really wanted him out of there.
And Hiccup was glad to oblige. So Hel wasn't all that bad. Likable, even. He still couldn't believe he had agreed to steal something just to get back to it. And stealing from Valhalla, no less. Just how was he supposed to do that? A wild goose chase to gain admittance to a place where he wasn't sure he wanted to be.
He pushed open the gate.
Barely was there room to walk through than the growling started. About as subtle as thunder and even louder.
Great, he thought. Garmr. The giant blood-drenched dog. He had completely forgotten. "Nice dog," he whispered as he stepped through the gate.
The giant wolfhound did not respond to that well. It reared back, eyes on Hiccup, teeth bared. It sure had a lot of teeth.
"It's me," Hiccup said softly as he closed the gate. Why was he closing the gate? Maybe he would need to jump behind it again. "I'm the one who calls you nice dog. We're friends. Remember." Okay, so friends was a strong word. But the dog hadn't growled when he entered through the gate.
Garmr barked. It was like a volcanic boom. Hiccup pressed his hands over his ears and quickly moved past the dog, muttering "nice dog" the entire time.
How many people actually left Hel? Garmr probably didn't know what to do with this novelty.
He would just keep walking. The dog would get bored, forget about him and…
Another loud bark sent the air vibrating. And then came the pounding of heavy paws.
The dog was chasing him.
Hiccup hurried down the path, pushing tree branches out of his way and wishing he could just break into a full run. The dog seemed to notice, and fell to a stalking pace that still placed him just behind. Now the dog was hunting. Not chasing, just hunting. Which was probably worse.
The bridge had to be close. He pushed through another web of branches and sighed in relief. He could see it, just ahead. Who would have thought bones and skulls would be so beautiful?
The dog snarled, and suddenly Hiccup found himself on the ground, staring down into it, claws digging into his back.
What would happen if a giant dog tore him to pieces when he was already dead? He squeezed his eyes shut.
"Bad dog!" he heard someone scream. Modgud. "Bad dog!"
Startled, the dog removed its paw and Hiccup jumped to his feet. He whirled to face Garmr. The bloody face was right in his. And all those teeth glinting…
"Run!" Modgud screamed again.
Slowly Hiccup backed away. The bridge would be just behind him… Garmr wasn't moving…
"Hiccup!"
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the bridge—just to the side of him. He had just missed it. But his foot was already slipping and he was falling. Dark trees and star-like jewels swirling above him as he plunged into the ice-cold white water, getting pulled under, foam and shadows speeding over him. The water was wet. Freezing and wet. He could feel it on him, in him…
And then he wasn't there anymore. No river. No darkness. No water. No dog.
He was in his house.
He blinked rapidly, but the image did not go away. Fire roared in the pit. The table bore the same old marks it always had. Shadows moved mesmerizingly against the wall and their glowing backdrop. Through the window sheets of snow could be seen, and Hiccup could see the snow water dripping down the pane.
It was all real. He was in his house.
Impossible. He wasn't in his house. He was just outside Hel. In fact he was drowning in the river Gjöll at that very moment. But he wasn't. He was in his house. His safe and warm and wonderful house, standing in the corner, perfectly fine.
It had all been a dream. One horrible dream. He half-laughed, half-gasped as he ran his hands over his body. He was fine. He wasn't dead. He couldn't be dead because how else would he be here?
The door burst open, and with a pile of snow around him in stepped his father, followed by Stoick. The wind battered at the door, which Gobber quickly pressed shut. Snow fell from the men's bodies to the floor.
"Dad!" Hiccup said, stepping forward.
No response.
Stoick dropped into a chair. His beard looked frozen. "This is impossible." His face fell into his hands. "He's not out there. Something has happened."
"He's with that dragon," Gobber said as he sat down. "He's fine. Or if not fine, alive." Despite the enthusiasm he did not sound very sure.
"No. They would have come back by now. It's been three days. He's not coming back."
"Stoick, don't say that. He's just waiting out the storm."
"Hiccup would have returned before the storm even hit! Something's happened. Something is wrong. He's hurt or…" He stood up, grabbed a mug from the table, and threw it into the fire. Sparks burst from the fire pit. He stared at them, chest heaving. "He's never just disappeared."
Hiccup pressed back against the wall. No. He was still dreaming. Everything had to have been a dream.
Gobber sighed. Amazing how he could take it all in stride. Just… making up words How could he possibly do that? Be so annoyingly optimistic. "You've done everything you can. You've gone into the woods, along the shore. Half the village was out looking. Everything is done everything they can."
"I haven't done enough." He shook his head. "I need to get back out there."
"We were just out there. You can't see in front of your face."
"I don't care. My son is out there somewhere in this."
"Yes. Holed up somewhere."
Stoick stared into the fire for a long time. Hiccup did as well. The fire should be warm. But it wasn't. He couldn't feel anything from it.
"I'm going back out," Stoick finally said.
"Stoick, don't. You'll—"
But Stoick had already thrown open the door. Wind howled as the doorway became the next pile of snow. The door didn't close as he stood just outside, staring into the blizzard.
Then he gasped. "Hiccup" came the barely audible whisper followed by a much louder scream. "Hiccup! Gobber, I can see them. They're back."
"What?" Gobber stood up.
Impossible. Hiccup darted across the room.
"I can see the dragon. It's Toothless. I can see him. He's coming." He took a deep breath and called again. "Hiccup! Hiccup!"
A few moments later he moved as Toothless jumped through the doorway, shaking snow from his wings. The dragon looked thinner. What had he been doing? But he was definitely alive. Alive and without a rider. His eyes scanned the room, then he growled and bounded up the stairs.
Toothless was looking for him, Hiccup realized. He thought that maybe he had returned here…
Stoick and Gobber stared.
"Where's Hiccup?" Stoick's voice deathly low. He spun back to the door and called again. "Hiccup!"
The upstairs shook with Toothless' furious movements. For a moment Hiccup considered going up. That was his dragon. His very confused, very upset dragon.
This wasn't a dream. None of it had been a dream.
Outside he could hear his dad calling his name against the howling wind. Gobber was already heading to the door.
Without another thought Hiccup slipped through the doorway into the storm. It was heavier than ever, just white against the darkness.
And the form of his father pushing through the snow up the hill, still madly calling for him. "Hiccup!"
With that the storm was gone. Everything was gone. His dad, the house, everything. And in their place was… he wasn't sure. A roaring sound. He was on his back, staring up into a night sky with stars hanging closer than he had ever seen them, framed by leafy branches of the tallest trees he had ever seen. He coughed and sat up.
He was freezing. And wet. His clothes were sopping wet. He pulled his coat from him. It made a sploshing sound as it landed. He wrapped his arms around his chest and shivered. He was dead, why was he shivering?
Water rushed past him in a narrow stream. The river Gjöll? But the rapids were gone and this was no cave. It was a forest. One for giants, by the look of the trees.
"Disa?" he called nervously.
Just as useless as when calling his dad. He didn't see her anywhere.
Terror struck him.
Somehow he had gotten out of the river. But he didn't remember how. Or even the river.
He had gone back. He had been back in Berk, back in his house.
Had that been a dream?
No, it had been so real. He had seen everyone, heard them talking. Toothless had returned to the house. Without him. His dad had gone out to look for him.
And he had gone back and seen it all.
The last thing he had thought he wanted. He shook his head. "Disa!" he called again. Where was she? "Disa!"
Still no answer. He gazed up the river. All he could see was how it curved from the trees.
