For Snoggletog, the village had built a giant wooden tree at the center of town. Being the chief of the village, Stoick and Hiccup went to the Square to hand lights around it, while also trying not to knock down the shields that adorned its base.
The giant towering thing was basic old wood painted green, then it was strung up with old shields from everyone in the village along with wreaths and ornaments. The dragons helped in making it easier. By the time Hiccup had gotten back to the village, dusk had fallen upon the village, and the lights along the tree were starting to give off a soft muted glow. Like the eggs of a Changewing, they grew brighter, then dimmed again as people walking by casted shadows that deprived the lights for brief snippets of seconds.
Still stuck in a daze as he pieced together what he had seen in the memory, Hiccup stared blankly at the giant monument as other villagers passed him by.
By all means it didn't surprise him that Hadrian had disappeared moments after the memory ended then again, Hiccup did scare him off when he launched for, Ryan. As if things weren't already confusing enough, now Hadrian had gone on and added more to the pile. It started to discourage Hiccup if he really was trying to help him, or make things more confusing until Hiccup just snapped.
Haymitch the Second was a hiccup; that he had already known, but how exactly did if fit into Hiccup's situation? Lilith tormenting him and then there's Ryan, his unofficial Doppelganger. Had this already happened before?
And on top of that, Hadrian said it wasn't Hiccup's fault that he invited Lilith in, but according the Grandmamma's book, it was his fault. Hiccup sighed in irritation, his breath puffing out in a translucent cloud. If Hadrian was trying to irritate him, he had succeeded.
A sudden pat on the shoulder startles Hiccup.
"Whoa, easy Hiccup." Astrid said. Over her shoulder, Heather stood wearing a fleece, her hands hidden in the pocket.
"Oh, hey, girls." Hiccup says as he rubs his head. "How're things?"
"We were actually looking for you. We went to your house but no one was home." Heather says.
"Oh yeah. It's the holiday. So, are you two going to the feast?" Hiccup asks
"We were planning, but we thought we'd come and hand out with you." She leans in close. "Just in case Jolene comes along." Astrid whispers.
Her name alone sent a nausea feeling through Hiccup's stomach. He stepped back fearing he would actually convulse. It reminded Hiccup that he hadn't actually told them what Grandmamma had showed him that Snoggletog morning. There was so much piling on his shoulders that Hiccup actually started to fell himself being weighed down. So much information was crammed in his head, maybe if he had told someone it would help him organize everything. No doubt Stoick and Grandmamma would be on board with it, anything to help Hiccup.
As Hiccup was about to suggest they all meet at his house, Fishlegs' voice calls out from behind, "Hiccup!"
Hiccup turns and finds Fishlegs and Meatlug hovering around the tree and landing with a soft thud.
"Hey Fishlegs. What's up?" Hiccup asks. Astrid and Heather round their way to view the pudgy Viking.
"It's Jolene's house." Hiccup's throat constricts tight as an icepick of fear stabs his heart. Fishlegs continues. "It's completely black."
"What else is new?" Astrid interjects. "Her house is always dark. Especially at night."
"No I mean, it's black as in empty. Like no one's home." Fishlegs rephrases. "It's abandoned."
"Did she say anything about leaving?" Hiccup asks, curiosity and a small pinch of hurt poking at his chest.
"No, and we peeked through one of the skylights, and the house is completely empty." Fishlegs says.
"What?!" Snotlout suddenly shouts. "My Jolene's gone?! What Where did she go?!"
Astrid clamps her hands around his mouth to stop him from sending the male villagers in a frenzy.
Baffled, Hiccup makes his way to the blacksmith shop where he found his father and Gobber sharing a toast of yak milk and Yak Butter Barffet. Stoick's eyes flick to Hiccup as they laugh. "Oh Hiccup! There you are." His father says. "Glad you're here, we were just about to round up the villagers to the Great Hall."
"Hey Dad," Hiccup says, ignoring his comment. "Did Jolene say anything about moving?"
In an instant, Stoick and Gobber's faces went from jolly to seriousness.
"No, I don't recall." Stoick answers.
"Well, apparently her house is completely abandoned."
Stoick leads the kids to the house at the very back of the village. It was just like any other around, in fact it was one of the newly renovated ones after the old neighborhood was slated for demolition. Walking up to the house, the wood stairs creaked in distress as they reached the door, almost beckoning them to turn around.
Hiccup saw nothing hung on the door, not even a wreath for the holiday. The house was bare, naked without any lights or wreaths on the roof and streamed along the wooden posts at the front door. Hiccup pulled open the door.
The house had an abandoned quality to it. A dim grey casted over everything, so it looks as though whatever was left in the hose as frowning at their depressive scenery or their abandonment. The open family room consisted of a bare table with one chair pushed in.
"Yeesh, when a girl's got to go, she goes." Heather tries to amuse as everyone files into the house.
Hiccup ignores her comment as he strode toward the stairs. An enclosed stairway stretched up before him. Above, the bedroom appeared to be intact. Solid walls met with the wood-and-rafter ceiling, and cold light poured in from the window above the staircase, dust particles drifting through the sharply slanted shafts like flotsam.
He mounted the stairs, and as he moved through the patchwork of light and dimness, he thought he could smell the bitter scent of seared wood. Hiccup opened his arms and placed his hands to the wood paneling on either side of him. His fingers trailed the course surface, bumping over the grooves a he used the walls to guide himself up, every step taking its turn to groan beneath him.
When Hiccup reached the top landing, he had found the room that mimicked an attic. A small café-style table and matching chairs sat beneath the small square window overlooking the village below. The room was completely empty.
His attention fell on the odd black scorch mark that marred the very center of the floorboards, taking the place of a ragged orange-brown throw rug, which lay rolled up against the far wall.
The fear that had gripped him, started growing twofold as he stared at the burn mark. Hiccup drifted toward the spot, keeping her footsteps light as he made his way to the stand in the center of the starburst-shaped blot. Only when his feet matched up with two similarly shaped smudges branded into the wood did he realize where it was he stood.
He had seen this before. When he was practicing with Grandmamma, but it's like it was made for something dark. A dark version of it.
Glancing to the ceiling, Hiccup saw a faint charcoal-black circle outline directly above. A faint etching, looking as if it was trying to fade into the wood before being spotted. Looking back around the room, Hiccup found something gleaming under the window. It was a small booklet, left facedown, flopped open. The entire thing was purple with a gold borderline and a strange symbol traced in the center.
Hiccup walked over, picking the book up, it clamped shut and he traced his thumb all around the cover and down the spine. It seemed like a portable spellbook.
The call of his name draws Hiccup's attention downstairs. He trudges down to find everyone gathered in the family room.
"What have you got there son?" Stoick asked Hiccup came into the room.
"I found this upstairs. It looks like a small, spellbook." Hiccup said as he handed Stoick the book. "Not only that, but Jolene's entire upstairs bedroom has a weird scorch mark in the floor."
"What?" Astrid said raising a questioning eyebrow.
"Yeah come here." Hiccup motioned. He headed back up the stairs, hands over feet, but the toe of his show caught on the lip of one of the steps. The stair pulled loose with a clatter.
Hiccup fell forward, the edges of the stairs jutting into his ribs and banging his shins. Wincing, he bit back a cry and twisted to look behind him, at the plank he had inadvertently yanked free. Ignoring Snotlout's snickering laughter, Hiccup peered down. Beneath the plank lay a long black hole, a hollow space like a small, narrow grave, large and deep enough for a person to fit through sideways.
"Hiccup are you okay?" Heather asks as she walks toward the stairs.
"Yeah, yeah." Hiccup waved off. "Check this out."
Without waiting for others to gather around, Hiccup sprang for the hole and dropped inside, landing on his feet. The top of his head still poked above the open stair. He could hear the awes of the others as he squats down in the tight space.
Balancing on the balls of his feet, he tried not to think about the cobwebs he couldn't see or the pill bugs or brown recluse spiders that might be crawling over his shoes at that very moment. Dust and grit shook down around him, pieces of grime landing in his hair.
"Hey! Steady up there!" Hiccup called.
"Sorry Hiccup!" Fishlegs' voice returned.
Listening, Hiccup heard him shuffle off. After that, the footsteps began to fade away. Like a storm that had blown itself out, the thundering tapered off into hollow thudding, growing farther and farther away.
"See anything Hiccup?" Astrid calls.
"Uh, no. I'm coming up."
Astrid shifted the board aside. The action sent not only a cloud of dust particles surging around, but also new shoots of fresh white light. Hiccup poked his head through and, shifting one foot forward, angled himself so he could boost himself up.
His toe brushed against something solid. It fell over with a quiet clank.
Hiccup ducked back into the hole again. He looked down at his feet to see a half-melted candle in a tiny holder. He tilted hi head at it, then glanced over his shoulder. Beyond the crisscrossing frame of two-by-fours that supported the staircase, Hiccup saw a small box-shaped area – a tiny room. A grey blanket lay unrolled and pushed against the left side of the cramped crawlspace, its pillow positioned in the crook of one corner.
His hand fell from the opening.
"Hiccup?" Astrid beckoned him.
Ignoring her, Hiccup swiveled away from the underbelly of the stairs toward the pocket of space, which was no bigger than the inside of a small walk-in closet. Stepping forward, Hiccup ducked and threaded his way through the support beams.
Drawings lined the plaster wall right next to the blanket, the pictures etched in a soft and loping hand that Hiccup recognized right away. Some of the etchings had even been colored in paint.
The image of a horse seemingly made of smoke reared its head, eyes bugging, hooves pawing at the air. A patch of clouds lit by purple lightning rolled beside a tuft of white lilies, their heads dropping under crowns of raindrops. Black trees marked the center of the wall. Tall and pencil thin, their limbs tangled with one another to create a twisted net dotted with the limp bodies of shriveled leaves. Or were those birds?
Hiccup's eyes followed the sprawl of the mural to the images closest to the blanket's pillow. There, the likeness of a certain Night Fury seemed to hover just over the place where the sleeper might lay her head. The painted dragon had a bright and curious look on his face, his eyes beaming through the gloom, the perfect piercing hue of green ice.
Hiccup sank to kneel on a thin burgundy throw rug sprawled across the concrete floor. Nearby, a pack of matches lay on top of a pile of book, next to a brass dish filled with the ashen bodies of burned incense cones, their stale scent barely detectable.
A small wooden box sat aside beside the books, its sides and lid covered in bas-relief with delicate rose patterns. A short stack of parchment notebooks occupied the opposite corner, several sheets of loose paper sticking our around the edges. A mug full of pens, pencils, charcoal sticks, and paintbrushes say sandwiched between the notebooks and a bin full of multicolored paint tubes.
Locating another candle, Hiccup took the box of matches, struck one, and lit the wick.
Warm flickering light filled the space, sending shadows leaping up the walls and across the slanted ceiling. He passed the candle across the carved wooden box. The sputtering light revealed the fancy lettering of a name engraved into the lid. Hiccup set the candle aside and reached to draw the wooden box toward him.
His fingertips traveled across the deep grooves and notches that formed the name Hiccup.
Hiccup opened the box. The hinged lid tilted back, held at ninety degrees by two violet strips of ribbon in either corner.
A stack of sketches littered the top layer of the box's contents. Beneath, Hiccup saw an assortment of odd trinkets and pieces of old jewelry.
His fingers went first to the sketches, and he pulled free the topmost picture, recognizing himself right away. It looked as though it was a snippet of him in action.
Dressed in his apron for the blacksmith shop, the faded tan one on top of his usual green tunic, his own image ignored him from the scratchy paper, his eyes focused on the sword as sparks flew off the metal as it scrapped against the rolling stone. His hair fell just at his eyebrows, his eyes narrowed in focus, the shimmers of sparks shadowing his face, making him look more, serious than usual.
All in all, he looked, attractive.
He remembered that day, when he wanted to test out his new invention that flung boas for him given his small muscular frame. Gobber had given him a rant on needing to stop all of 'this' then gesturing to all of him. Then after a rant of his own, Hiccup was bluntly ignored and given a sword to sharpen.
But how was someone able to draw this?
For a moment, he couldn't decide whether he should be freaked out or flattered – or if it was better to default to the ever-appropriate choice of mortified.
He flipped the drawing over so he wouldn't have to look at it anymore, when he noticed something written across the back.
Short lines scrawled in deep violet blazed against the tan rough parchment. Bringing the picture closer, Hiccup began to read. He felt his heart stammer a beat when he relied that it was a poem. About him.
I keep telling myself
That you're
Just a boy.
Another leaf blown across my path
Destined to pass on and shrivel into yourself
Like all the others.
Yet despite my venom
You refuse to wither
Or fade
You remain golden throughout,
And in your gaze I am left to wonder if it is
Me alone
Who feels the fall.
Hiccup's hand sank, as though the picture had become too heavy for him to hold.
Like tiny knives, her words lacerated his heart.
Hiccup pushed the picture back inside the box, prepared to shut the lid and leave, but through his bleary, stinging vision, he caught sight of another photo in the stack.
At first he could glimpse on the edge, and it was the wisps of soft, honey-colored hair that made him draw it free.
The man in the sketch watched the artist with a steady pair of large eyes, his chin tilted slightly upward. His beauty, natural and free of modification, was undeniable.
His lips, shapely and petal pink, seemed as though they wanted to smile, even though they didn't his wavy blond hair lay in a gentle layers down his face, the soft flyaway ends disappearing behind him in what Hiccup saw was his horned helmet.
The man, slender and pale, wore a dark red tunic with a thick belt across his stomach, and metal pads placed on his shoulders.
Even though the physical resemblance was subtle, Hiccup knew that this was Haymitch the Second, in hiccup form.
It was his eyes, the same hue of polished icy, that gave him away.
Taking a closer look, Hiccups began to notice faint lines showing through from the other side. Curls and slanted loops appeared in raised bumps around the edges, like braille, as if Jolene had pushed too hard with her pencil while writing.
Hiccup hesitated before flipping the photo over, afraid of what he might find. He turned it slowly, allowing the candlelight to reveal another poem.
Remembering the memory Hadrian had taken him too, Hiccup made the connection that Haymitch was a hiccup. Something about that fact was very important to Jolene, Lilith. And now, years later, she was still thinking of him, still holding on to the last remnants of his existence in her life.
Hiccup found himself reluctant to read even a single line. There was something about his poem that made him dread its message. Perhaps it was the title, presented like a simple salutation in a letter. "To Haymitch," it said at the top, the letters scriptlike and looping, written in her best hand.
Swallowing, Hiccup began to read.
To Haymitch,
This subtle second self
Sheaf of me
Can do more than you ever could.
Like you, it can leave
And go
Somewhere else.
The night splits me in two.
I disconnect-
Ti sink, to fall to, fly
And rage
Forever
And always without you.
Hiccup read the lines again and then again. From the craterlike feeling of emptiness the words themselves left within him, there bubbled up a familiar echo, a repetition of things heard and learned of in the past.
Second self?
Lucid dreaming. Astral projection.
Hiccup glanced back to Jolene's blanket as, all at once, its presence there held new meaning. His eyes returned to the mural on the wall, suddenly knowing that her canvas – her hideaway – stretched much farther than this room.
Hiccup pressed the picture of Haymitch facedown on the floor next to him, then picked up the remained of the stack. He flipped through the rest of the pictures slowly, one at a time. There were more people, each one of them resembling a hiccup in one way or another. Small muscles, and a very thin frame.
For the first time since Hadrian had shown him the memory, something clicked in Hiccup's head.
Jolene, Lilith, always targeted hiccups.
None of the people he'd seen were different. They all looked similar. Unable to be sure if they all shared the same experiences, Hiccup felt relief as he had solved one piece of the elaborate puzzle that was, Jolene.
Lost in his thoughts, Hiccup hadn't realized that he'd flipped to the last sketch in the stack, one that showed a solitary stone face that peered out from an alabaster wall.
Hiccup looked closer, realizing that he knew that face. He recognized it from one of the houses in the abandoned street. It was one of the "green men" Hadrian had told him about, the group of gargoyle busts said to act as protectors against evil.
"Sleeping on the job," Hiccup muttered to the photo.
The face of the gargoyle glowered up at him. The thing looked almost human, except for the oversize, orblike eyes that stared sightlessly forward.
Hiccup sighed and gathered the photos. Before tucking them back into the box, he took a moment to sift through the remaining contents, a collection of bits and pieces strewn along the violet crushed-velvet lining. Broken bits of a mirror lay intermixed with antique jewelry, buttons, and brooches, and folded slips of . . . sheet music?
Hiccup snatched up one of the papers. He was about to unfold it when he noticed the glimmering object that had lain beneath, concealed.
A lady's elaborate hair com, encrusted with amethyst gemstones, winked at him in the candlelight. Hiccup dipped his hand back into the box and lifted the comb free. He held it up for inspection and it sparkled in his grasp, as if each jewel held its own glowing ember within.
He had seen this come before, but where?
His Dad's voice suddenly muffles through the air, buzzing the wood in long pulses.
"Yeah?" Hiccup called back.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I actually found something."
"Well, just bring it up, Hiccup. I don't want you down there anymore."
Hiccup returned the comb to the box. He laid the stack of photos on top and then closed the lid. Carefully he slid the box back into its original place against the wall.
Dusting himself off, Hiccup stood.
"I'm coming out." With that, he blew out the candle, and went to the narrow hole in the stairs.
He pulled himself out, replacing the plank before turning to face the groups of Vikings.
"What did you see down there?" Fishlegs asked. "Bodies?"
Hiccup looked to him in amusement, but shook his head. "I found something very interesting down there. And I think with a little help, we can piece together why Jolene's after me." He said.
"Grandmamma?" Gobber suggests.
Hiccup nods, "And a little extra."
That night, after the feast in the Great Hall, Hiccup and Stoick gathered Astrid and the others and Grandmamma, meeting at Hiccup's house to finally put together the jagged pieces of Jolene's puzzle.
Grandmamma sat at one of the chairs of the kitchen table, along with Stoick and Gobber. Fishlegs sat in an available stool close to the fire, Astrid deciding to stand near the stairs. Despite Snotlout's and the twins' absence, Hiccup explained all the information he had obtained with Grandmamma's visit earlier that day. He avoided the incidents with Hadrian and the box, wanting to have backup before he goes into detail.
Hiccup now stands at the head of the small uneven circle everyone had unknowingly created as they huddled in Hiccup's home.
"You still haven't told us what you found down there Hiccup." Fishlegs says as he nervously fiddles with his fingers.
"I'm waiting for someone." Hiccup said, knowing his doing in covering up the identity was less than obvious.
"Who? Dare I ask?" Astrid goes along.
"Look, this is only person who has truly helped me. And despite everything, he's probably the only one who holds the key to the way between worlds."
"Please tell me it's not . . ." Fishlegs question dissolved in his mouth as the floorboards above them creaked and moaned.
Hiccup had a feeling everyone knew who he was talking about, maybe it was just their wishful thinking that prevented them from stating, what should be obvious.
Taking a deep breath, Hiccup walked toward the stairs, keeping them in the corner of his eye as he spoke. "Look, you're the only one who knows how to beat her. You've scrambled up everything in my head, and now I don't even know what facts are right anymore."
Gobber leans in to Stoick and whispers. "I never thought it looked as crazy as people describe, but seeing it now, he looks like a loon."
"You were the one who warned me. And you showed me something, that I don't know who it connects to me, but it does. So please, I need your help. You're the only other person who can see what I see."
There was a moment of silence. The only sound in anyone's ears was the crackling of the firewood. It casted ominous shadows all across the woodwork and practically shadowed the staircase. Hiccup eagerly stared at them, expecting a blob of darkness to snake out and rise up and morph into Hadrian.
Moments passed, and he still didn't show. Hiccup's hope began to dwindle and contort into fear. What if he got captured, he thought. It makes sense since all of the defiance he's done toward Jolene. It scares Hiccup more knowing that Hadrian has the ability to come and go in the dream and real world, so if he was captured, then Hiccup had lost his one solid link between the two dimensions.
Hiccup sighed and turned away from the stairs.
"Who've thought we'd be together like this." He whispered in the corrosive hiss that never failed to set Hiccup on edge.
All at once, everyone turned to the far corner of the room. There, dressed in all black, the side of his face containing the jagged hole concealed as he faced them from the other side, one shoulder pressed to the wall, feet crossed in a relaxed position. A smug smile on his face.
"You!" Stoick growled. Then immediately, Stoick grabbed an available sword from a barrel and charged the demon.
"Dad no! Stop!" Hiccup cried.
As Stoick swung the sword down, intending on slicing Hadrian straight down the middle, Hadrian's body loosened into violet wisps and drifted toward Hiccup. At the last minute, he spiked upward and took solid shape again, his back pressed into one high corner his arms outspread to brace himself, heels planted against the wall behind him, making him look like an enormous spider. Putting himself out of Stoick' batting range.
"Dad!" Hiccup cried. Then at the last minute, Hiccup grabbed his ornate shield and blocked Stoick's sword. "Back . . . Off!" he howled as he pushed off his father's blade and slamming it into Stoick's gut so it sent him back. "Don't hurt him!"
Everyone stares at Hiccup in shock, but Hiccup keeps his stern face as he feels Hadrian jump down from the corner and walk up behind him. Hiccup's hair stands on end, but if he had to face facts, he felt more secure with Hadrian by his side since he was the only other person that knows what Hiccup's seen and possibly holds the answers on what to do.
"Hiccup . . .?" Stoick utters to him.
Hiccup softens his gaze and lowers his shield. "Dad, I know Hadrian's done horrible things in the past, and I know he didn't exactly make a good reunion with you, Astrid." He gestures to the blond who continually gives Hadrian a glare of absolute loathing. "But, he's the only other person who truly understands what I'm going through. He's actually helped me, and . . ."
Hiccup gazes back over his shoulder at the figure clad in black.
"I trust him."