8 No Going Back

8. NO GOING BACK The only window in the Library was now plugged by one fat, dead Driller-Dragon, and no natural daylight could sneak its way into the gigantic, endless maze. The walls were lined with books. Thousands and thousands of bookcases stretched from floor to ceiling, lit only by the dim light of Glow-worms, clinging to the walls, and a faint scarlet gleam given off by the wriggling Itchyworms. Hiccup walked on, shivering not just with cold, but with fear. For the Library was cold with that dark, damp cold that has not seen daylight for so many years that it has forgotten what sunshine feels like. The sad, soggy rooms smelt of silence and secrets. The Library felt to Hiccup like a poor neglected fishy Creature who nobody remembers had died in some forgotten corner, and was slowly decaying. And it was SPOOKY. Choking dust clouds filled some of the halls, and in others the Glow-worms had gone out and they were feeling their way through absolute darkness. In others, the shelves had clearly been attacked by Driller-Dragons.

Way, way in the distance they could hear the faint echoes of shouting Meathead Warriors and their barking Driller-Dragons as they poured into the Library Entrance, beginning their search for the three Viking Intruders. Surely the Library Labyrinth was so huge that the Searchers, even in those numbers, would take a long, long time to find them? And maybe it was Hiccup's imagination which was jumping about like a poor bird dashing its head against a window pane, but he kept on thinking that he heard strange breathing and snuffling noises coming from somewhere behind his shoulder. Sometimes he thought he saw a flicker of shadows moving and disappearing around a blurry corner. Toothless no longer flew after them. He had crept into Hiccup's furry waistcoat, his back-spines a prickle of fear and alarm. 'Issa not s-s-safe…' he whispered. 'There's B-B-BAD things in here… trust T-ttoothless… Toothless knows…' Even through his terror, however, Hiccup was blown

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away with excitement at seeing so many books in one place at one time. He had scribbled away in notebooks himself, of course, but because books were banned by order of 'the Thing', the only proper book he had ever really held was that copy of How to Train Your Dragon that Toothless had incinerated. And he hadn't been very impressed by that particular book. Not enough words, in his opinion. But here, it was like entering a cave full of treasure. 'WOW,' breathed Hiccup, 'if you stayed here long enough you really could find the answer to everything…' There were fat books, thin books, volume after decaying volume of the Encyclopedia Barbaria… Guides to the Archipelago, and to strange, lost, faraway lands that Hiccup had heard spoken of by the bards, with names like jewels–'Russia', 'China', 'India', 'Africa' and 'Japan'. Were these places really REAL or as imaginary as the unicorn? Hiccup longed to stop and pull out the dusty maps… Could there really be a land so hot that your thoughts boiled over in the steam of the day, a land where 'elephants' flew over herds of peaceful 'flamingoes', wandering over a world as warm as bread from the oven?

Hiccup burned to know the answers. Hiccup burned to know the answers… but he did not stop. And they were enormously relieved when Camicazi announced triumphantly that they had reached the Dragons and Other Exotic Creatures section of the library. 'Now, who wrote it again, remind me?' asked Camicazi. 'Professor Yobbish,' replied Hiccup. 'It's over here,' said Fishlegs, kneeling in a corner of the hall. 'W… X… Y for Yobbish… Great Gulpings of Thor, he's written a book about keeping SHARKS as pets, what was the man thinking of? Here we are! How to Train Your Dragon!' And there it was, the exact replica of the one that had sat in the Hooligan Great Hall for so many years, and that was now hidden under Hiccup's bed, shredded to pieces by Toothless's expert little claws. Well, perhaps not an exact replica. 'It's a second edition,' Fishlegs pointed out. 'No one will notice,' said Hiccup, jubilantly taking it out of Fishlegs's hands and checking that it was all there.

It certainly was: the big handsome cover with the twiddly bits on it, and inside the three, golden, sacred words that were the whole of Yobbish's advice on the subject: YELL AT IT. But this time, after twenty years of painstaking research and as this was a second edition, he had added the vital word… LOUDLY. It may not seem like much, but the Hooligans had been following this advice with awed obedience for generations. Hiccup stuffed the book into his backpack. 'Just look at all these incredible books on dragons!' he exclaimed in excitement. 'Viking Dragons and their Eggs! Dragons of the Icy Depths! Dragons of the Frozen North! Think how helpful it would be to the Viking Tribes if we were allowed to read all these books…' 'I hate to hurry you,' said Fishlegs, 'but we're in a bit of a tight spot here, remember?' 'You could be right,' said Hiccup. 'I've got this horrible feeling we might be being followed…' 'Why do you think THAT?' squeaked Fishlegs in alarm. 'Oh, it's just a feeling I have…' said Hiccup.