"Why are you here?" Hiccup hissed.
Hadrian blinked, his cold eyes remaining downcast. Tilting his head to the side and knitting his brow, he seemed to contemplate the question. He didn't answer, though. He only looked the other way. Hiccup didn't move. He found his gaze unable to waver from Hadrian, from his face that seemed to struggle and twist between several emotions, finally contorting into a grimace of malice and pain.
"Is this a bad time?" he teases.
"Cut the crap!" Hiccup snapped, taking three bold steps in the demon's direction. "I mean how?! You were locked away in a book! Forever trapped and out of my life! So who set you free?! How did you escape?! And why. Are. You here?!"
Hadrian's eyes flicked up. He shot Hiccup a withering glare. Hiccup was tempted to step back, but he kept himself rooted in place; determined to show the demon he no longer had control over Hiccup in any way. But there was something in his demeanor, in the heavy way he sat, that warned Hiccup against asking and launching the opening bid for a match of verbal–tag-you're-it with the demon.
"Always expect the unexpected." Hadrian finally said.
"Look," Hiccup said. "I already know this isn't a dream. So tell me how you're doing this. How are you entering the real world again?"
Hadrian laughed, a low, deep sound that sent a cold shiver running through Hiccup.
"Hm, I can see you've changed as well." Hadrian said, at last drawing himself to a standing position, his spindly frame towering over a foot above Hiccup's own. "I thought it was just me."
Despite the sudden rush of adrenaline that gushed through his veins, Hiccup refused to allow his body the step backward it so desperately wanted to take. Instead he remained planted, determined not to do or say anything else that would betray his escalating fear. Even though he knew Hadrian held no power to harm him physically, everything about him, from his caustic voice to the twitchy birdlike way he sometimes moved, terrified him.
"Why are you here?" Hiccup repeated. "Why did you go after Astrid? If you want me, come after me." He challenged.
Hadrian looks away, his head slowly turning to the side, to gaze out of Hiccup's skylight. "Sign the line. Make a deal with the devil. Make a deal with the devil in blood."
Without warning, he began to take slow and cautious steps toward Hiccup, as though Hiccup were the cornered animal poised to either strike or bolt.
It was certainly how he felt.
"I swear, if you so much as try to touch me . . . ," he warned Hadrian, the threat railing off as he began to consider his options.
In an instant, Hadrian dispersed into smoke. He shrank, contorting, his frame turning murky through wisps of violet. He whisked around Hiccup and flew to the window ledge of hiccup's skylight. He re-formed and crouched on the ledge, elbows resting on his knees. He kept his gaze out toward the moon.
For a moment, Hiccup remembered how Hadrian's only wish was to be free. Despite his intentions, he made the most of his freedom. It was all he wanted. A small wave of pity washed over Hiccup, feeling a small amount of pity as he watched the nightmare gaze out at the blue moon.
Make a deal with the devil. Make a deal with the devil in blood.
"Did someone send you here? On a deal?" Hiccup suddenly whispered. Hadrian suddenly cocked his head and Hiccup went rigid.
His body loosened, and inky swirls whisked around Hiccup readied for the blow, a choke, nothing happened. The haze slid back from him, and Hadrian's face, translucent and vaporous, re-formed within the tangle of violet wisps.
"You're necklace," he snarled. "It's a clever trick, but it won't help you."
He took a solid shape again, a foot from Hiccup. Leering at him, he cupped Hiccup's chin with one cool clay hand. Instinctively, Hiccup brought his hand up to grip Hadrian's, but surprisingly his grip wasn't tight.
Now that he was face-to-face again with the nightmare creature in all his gruesome glory, he appeared less vulnerable than he remembered. Unable to hide his fear any longer, he began quivering all over, his stomach clutching at the memory of how he had engraved the mystic marks on his body.
As his courage began to collapse in on itself, Hiccup started to realize how wrong he'd been to think the demon couldn't harm him. Obviously, he could. In more ways than he knew.
Hadrian drew his hand slowly back, his claws grazing Hiccup's cheek. Hiccup winced as the razor tips raked his skin. There was no pain. Only the surge of dread as his face drew nearer to his. "You seem to think you know everything, Hiccup." He snarled.
Hiccup kept his yes squarely on Hadrian's, wide and unblinking. "You don't scare me anymore." He said, even though he could tell by the wistful smile Hadrian wore that he knew Hiccup was lying. Hiccup didn't care. "You haven't answered any of my questions. Now, why are you here?"
Hadrian brushed his thumb across Hiccup's lips. "Do you really believe everything she tells you?" he seethed at him.
Bewildered by his question, Hiccup watched a Hadrian suddenly withdrew. The monster slithered back, his face dissolving, lost once more amid the thickening murk. The violet mist now drifting toward Hiccup's bed. He reappeared on Hiccup's headboard, feet braced against the wood, hands on his knees.
"She's only playing the game she knew for centuries." Hissed his disembodied voice. "The only difference . . . , she needs you." He emphasized.
Hiccup looked to him, working to decipher the riddle. It wasn't like him to play that sort of card.
"Always expect the unexpected."
Who was she, though?
"Who's she?" Hiccup asks.
"The name is better left unsaid."
Hadrian looks to him, a look of urgency that looked to foreign on his face. Hadrian had always known what he was doing. But now it seemed as though he was just growing used to something new. Like a baby lamb learning how to walk, he struggled to stand on his own while trying not to try too hard. He took a deep breath.
"Mark these words." He said. "Forty days and forty nights she works to seduce them. They'd listen to the lyrics of her song because it would amuse them." He quoted, the riddle somehow striking a familiar chord inside Hiccup's head. "The sing-along did not last long. It started to reduce them."
Instantly Hiccup dropped his gaze and began to drift back to the night he had followed the hypnotic tune of a beautiful woman playing at a grand piano. But once the tune was interrupted, he broke free, the feeling returning to his nerves and common sense flowing back to his brain.
"Why is this 'she' – whoever she is – why is she after me?" Hiccup asked, each word like a timid step into a pitch-black room.
"Because, Hiccup." He said, choosing his words. "I told you. She needs you. Without you, she's nothing."
"Who?"
"Come." With a sweep of his hand, he gestured Hiccup to the windowsill. As Hiccup approached, Hadrian hopped from the headboard to the ledge, appearing so light-footed, he nearly floated.
Hiccup drew nearer to the black square of his open skylight. A cool breeze filtered through, stirring his curtain of hair. He felt the brush against his cheek. When he reached the window, he glanced first at Hadrian. Standing this close to him, he could see his eyes beneath his black hair – really see them they were void of pupils. Jade green holes bored into him before turning away and gazing out the window into the space beyond.
Hiccup followed his gaze.
As he looked, the darkness cleared. A familiar image frayed through the middle came into view. In the distance, he could see the outline of the woodlands. A dim violet light radiated through the arrangement of thin black trees.
And there, standing just outside the forest boundaries, Hiccup recognized the curvy hourglass shape of a familiar form. A tall, slim figure clad in an elegant gown.
"Jolene . . . ?"
Suddenly the figure turned her head to the side, she glared at them through one black eye the same greedy way a bird inspects a shining beetle. Hiccup's voice hitched in his throat. The woman unleashed a deafening howl and launched for them. Hiccup was yanked back and came crashing to the wooden floor, knocking the wind out of his lungs as he landed on his spine.
The skylight slammed shut and Hiccup struggles to prop himself on his elbows. Hiccup looked toward his bed and in one blinking movement, Hadrian lunged at him, jaw unhinging, the black hole in his face widening. Teeth bared, claws outstretched, he unleashed an ungodly sound, something between the woman's screech and a demon's howl.
It happened too fast for Hiccup to form his own scream, too fast for him to raise his arms and think 'I knew it'. Hadrian's claws rained down. A shrieking torrent of black engulfed the moonlight. His form loosened into violet smoke, and like a demon sucked into hell, he vanished into the floor.
Blood.
Where was the blood? Why wasn't he bleeding? Hiccup searched his arms for signs of scarlet, expecting the pain to hit him any moment. Those claws, they'd raked right through him. He should be shredded. Still halfway curled into himself, he stood trembling, as though waiting for the moment when he would start to fall apart at the seams. That moment never came, though. There was nothing. Maybe he was in shock.
Hiccup drew himself sharply upright, gazing around his now dark room. Hiccup looked to his desk and found spilled cups, papers scattered and charcoal pencils now littered the floor. There was a last beat of silence, one final moment of suspended peace. Toothless' breath brushes his hair and Hiccup jolted backward. Toothless cooed and circled him and nuzzled his cheek. Hiccup looks to his skylight and the door was shut.
Hiccup hurried downstairs, ran the length of the living room and pushed into the bathroom. He drew himself up to the sink, placing his hands on either side of the basin. He stood there, trying to regulate his breathing, and fought against the urge to puke.
He was cracking up. He was losing his mind right in front of himself. There was no other excuse for it. What was wrong with him?
He couldn't be dreaming right now could he?
Hiccup brought his reluctant gaze to the reflective surface of an ornate metal Gobber gave him as a new mirror. Staring into the deep forest green of his own eyes, he had never felt so alone.
"I need help." He whispered. Pallid and haggard, he watched his nostrils flare as he took in a longer breath. He let it out through his mouth and shut his eyes.
He left the bathroom and went out to the living room where the fire was slowly diminishing, but still alive glowing in an orange haze of embers. Toothless spiked the fire to its original tranquil length while Hiccup took a seat at the kitchen table. Toothless nuzzled his hand and Hiccup held it in his lap.
Of everything rolling through his head, the one thing that stood out was the way Hadrian had delivered his words. It was something important. A message.
A warning.
Was he warning him of Jolene?
Then there was the numerical number forty that for some odd reason had pushed itself to the forefront of his mind. And suddenly he felt like he was running out of time.
A part of him automatically assumed he was lying and just trying to lure him into a trap, but a small feeling of unease germinated at the way he remembered how Hadrian sat, the way he chose his words with careful precision. As if trying to deliver the message across without it being too obvious.
But why? Who was going to find out? Was it the woman? Was she using him as a slave to spy on Hiccup? Clearly she was dangerous if Hadrian was trying to warn Hiccup. But since Hadrian didn't have the best track record, Hiccups just couldn't deny the fact that this could all be a new scheme for him to get revenge on Hiccup for his imprisonment. And yet his demeanor was, different. It was so different he couldn't ignore it.
But if he was trying to warn Hiccup, why would he attack in the end? Then again, the woman did spot them, and their eyes only made contact for a moment before Hiccup was yanked back out of sight. Did Hadrian attack him to fool the woman?
Hiccup couldn't help but laugh at the idea since Hadrian hated Hiccup's guts with a burning passion.
One thing was for sure, this was l too much for him to figure out alone. He decided to visit Grandmamma and take her back to the home. The feeling of being home gave him a better visual of what happened. Grandmamma was up, not to Hiccup's surprise, and she paid close attention. She would ask questions, and Hiccup would nod, relieved to have her connect the dots on her own. It helped not having to put things into words himself.
"Then there's this woman. She came to me in my dreams, appearing almost every night. Calling to me for . . . something."
"Did she say what?" Grandmamma asked.
"No, it was unclear. All she did was play the piano and sing. Nothing really happened except I felt, hypnotized."
"Well it seems that you've become a link, Hiccup."
"A link?"
"With the magic training, you seemed to have created a link between this world and a dreamworld." Grandmamma explains.
"But now it seems like everything's leaking together." Hiccup mumbles.
Grandmamma eyed him with uncertainty. Up until this moment, she had been eager to learn about the details of what happened, the strange and seemingly unexplainable events that had led to Hiccup's newfound powers. Now though, wither her upper lip crimped into a squiggly line of unease, she looked as though she couldn't be sure if what Hiccup was telling her.
Her eyes darted to one side. "About this woman," she began. "The one you said you saw?"
Hiccup could sense her growing apprehension. He felt the nervous tension radiating from the old woman's tiny frame, as palpable as an electric current.
Hiccup kept her eyes steady on Grandmamma, waiting, finally ready for whatever she might ask.
"What did she look like?"
The simplicity of the question surprised Hiccup. He thought about it for a moment, once again envisioning the woman who had appeared to him in the inverted dream version of the woodlands, luminous in swaths of white gossamer and tumbling veils. "She was . . . well, she was beautiful," he admitted. "And at first, that's all I could think when I saw her. She had white skin, like marble. And lone thick black hair. Tons of it." As he spoke, Hiccup traced his fingers through the air around his own hair, his hands gliding down past his shoulders and, before he knew it, all the way to the floor. "She wore layers of white veils that wound down to her feet. And her eyes . . . "Hiccup shook his head. He would never in his life forget those eyes. "They were black. Completely black."
He glance dup realizing that he'd been lost in thought. He focused on the distraught expression that Grandmamma now wore. It was so unfamiliar to him that Hiccup had to backtrack mentally through his words, wondering what he had said that Grandmamma had found so disturbing. Then again, hadn't Grandmamma already seen everything with her years of experience?
Maybe, Hiccup reasoned, Grandmamma was still trying to wrap her head around the concept of there being another dimension. Though, given everything that had happened, Hiccup knew there weren't too many other conclusions left for Grandmamma to draw.
"Did she tell you her name?" she asked, her words slow, her voice laden with such dead seriousness that it made Hiccup pause before answering.
"Uh, no. But I recognized it as Jolene. But it felt like she might have a different name. Like I've heard it but I can't place it." Hiccup said, trying to gauge the source of Grandmamma's sudden trepidation. "It felt like she had many names, and Jolene was different than the rest. Like it began with an L-"
"Lilith," Grandmamma whispered, her face white.
Hiccup's mouth popped open in shock.
Quickly Grandmamma stood. Dashing, she snatched up her purse and cat. Then, stopping to gather her shoes, she stuffed everything under one arm, and darted.
"Grandmamma!" Hiccup leaped to his feet.
He rushed after as she opened the front door and vanished into the darkness in a swirl of snow.
Hiccup caught the storm door just as it latched.
"No," he rasped, and fumbled to turn the handle. Outside he could see Grandmamma hurrying through the winter bluster toward a mule drawn carriage. He could see her exchanging words with the driver.
Managing at last to twit the handle, Hiccup pushed the door open. He stumbled into the cold, down from the porch and through the darkened yard, only realizing he didn't have shoes on when the snow soaked through the thin layer of his sock. He ran despite the bitter sting.
"Grandmamma!" he shouted, no longer caring who heard. "Stop!" his voice echoed, reverberating through the silent, still neighborhood.
Ahead of him, Grandmamma faltered, tripping over the now snow-caked hem of her skirt before colliding with the carriage.
Hiccup heard the jingling of charms. He ran faster
"Grandmamma!"
"I can't talk to you!" Grandmamma shouted, whirling to face Hiccup who skittered to halt. "Ever again!"
Hiccup gaped at her. Grandmamma, in turn, swiveled away and, pulling the door open, san inside the house, shoving her things into the vacant passenger seat.
Hiccup forced himself to move and caught the door before Grandmamma could pull it shut. "Why are you doing this?" he demanded. "How did you know-?"
The man managing the carriage, snapped the reins. The mule neighed to life, cutting Hiccup off. Its nostrils flaring.
"May Thor protect you!" was Grandmamma's only answer before she tugged the door free of Hiccup's grip. It slammed shut with an echoing clap.
"Wait!" Hiccup shouted, staring into the window-side through his own distraught reflection at Grandmamma as she shifted her things.
"Open the door" Hiccup slammed his palm against the glass. "Grandmamma, if you know something, you have to tell me! Grandmamma!"
Hiccup heard the mule neigh. He bucked and snarled before aggressively pounding the snow.
"You can't just leave like this!" Hiccup screamed. He latched onto the handle of the driver's-side door and pulled, only to find Grandmamma had locked it. "Grandmamma! You're the only one I have! You're the only one who knows the truth! Please!"
The wagon thundered forward, snow groaning as it compressed beneath the wheels, the frozen handle tearing free from Hiccup's grip.
"Grandmamma!"
Whining, the carriage gave a granting screech as it swung around him in a wide arc. Hiccup turned where he stood, his hair whipping in his face as the carriage sped past him with a pounding stomp, slashing through the darkness.
Hiccup stared after the carriage as it swerved, fishtailing around the post and speeding out of sight.
The wind tugged at the sleeves of Hiccup's tunic. It pulled at his hair and clung to his bare arms. But he no longer felt the cold. Only the sandlike sting of the snow as it raked his raw cheeks. He stood statue straight in the diffuse moonlight, his gaze locked on the set of wheel tracks that snaked their way through the inch-thick layer of snow.
His throat felt tight, crammed with so many unspoken questions.
He forced himself to swallow them while he waited for the carriage to come back. For Grandmamma to come back.
But nothing happened. Gradually the frigid knife-edge cold crept back into his awareness, and a shudder racked his frame.
How long could he stand out here like this, waiting?
Never long enough, he thought, because Grandmamma wasn't coming back.
Hiccup looked up. He stared at the countless specks that rained down around him, each white flake highlighted against the black backdrop of night, like a thousand falling stares in a dead sky.
He had to wonder if this sensation of being shredded and left to the wind, of being left behind, could even touch what he must have felt the moment he'd realized he wasn't coming back. That was alone. Utterly and completely alone.
"Hey!"
Hiccup glanced over his shoulder toward his home.
Stoick stood in the doorway, washed in a glow of warm light. Squinting at Hiccup and leaning out, he looked like a bird poking its head out of a peephole.
"What are you doing?" he shouted.
Hiccup hugged himself tightly against the sudden whip-snap of frozen wind and forced himself to move.