8 Oh for Thor’s Sake

8. OH FOR THOR'S SAKE, OF COURSE THEY SHOULDN'T SEARCH THAT FORTUNE- TELLING HUT! HAVE YOU NOT READ ANY OF HICCUP'S MEMOIRS BEFORE? As soon as they opened the door, they regretted it. A crooked little room, so dark that they blinked and struggled to see, and it took a moment or two to peer into the blackness as they stumbled forward, Toothless protesting desperately and trying to pull Hiccup out again by grabbing the back of his waistcoat with his talons. And as their eyes adjusted to the very faint light of a dying fire and a couple of Slugbulbs drowning pathetically in a bowl of water, in one ghastly moment the implications of the room burst upon them. Cobwebs everywhere. A mess of bottles and potions, and bits of meat. Maps and scribblings and decaying paper on the walls with great complicated charts and family trees splatted with what looked like

blood. Things drying on washing lines that might be fingernails or bits of hair. A game of chess on a table with one leg propped up by books. A large dark cupboard in the corner of the room. A great cauldron on a dimly flickering fire… And in the centre of it all… In the centre of it all… A brown-cloaked figure, sitting in a chair, as if it had been waiting for them. Oh, they turned as soon as they saw what was in that hut. They turned and tried to run, scrabbled for the door they had just come through on desperate legs with hearts beating quick and a dreadful sick feeling in their dropping stomachs…

…but to no avail. A great wind came from behind them as the door was slammed SHUT by unseen hands. And it was too late. They were trapped. 'I thought you'd never arrive, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third. I've been waiting for you for ages,' drawled the brown-cloaked figure, and it slowly pulled back its hood.

It was the witch. 'Mmmf GULP!' At last Toothless managed to swallow the last mouthful of the fortune cookies, and he squealed, 'YOU S-S-SEE! TOOTHLESS TRY TO TELL YOU! THE WITCH IS STILL IN HERE! MUST BE SOMEBODY ELSE IN THE B-B-BANQUETING HALL!' Toothless dived down Hiccup's shirt, whirling round his stomach, and ending up somewhere in the hollow of Hiccup's back, trembling. The witch smiled. She spoke as if she understood Dragonese. 'Yes, one of my Outcast friends is at this very moment sitting in the Banqueting Hall, wearing one of my brown cloaks. You see, I have more than one.'

She was upright, but hunched over like she was used to a smaller space, turning a great sand-glass over and over in terribly wrinkled hands. She was still so painfully white, so drained of colour, that Hiccup could hardly bear to look at her. Bones were so visible under her skin that it was like staring straight at a skull, tapping fingernails tipped with iron. Tap, tap, tap on the sand-glass. Tick-tock, tick-tock in Hiccup's pocket. A scary sight, the witch Excellinor. 'It is so nice to have you here all on your own, my children,' cooed the wicked witch, 'without all those horrid muscly grown-ups. Would you like a cookie?' She pointed to a large basket of delicious smelling cookies, sitting on the table. 'No?' she purred. 'Then what can I do to entertain you? Do you play chess? I may have to warn you that I am very, very good…' Beside the chess game on the table there was a high hat, Stoick's sword, a cigar case that Hiccup recognized as belonging to UG the Uglithug, and Flashburn's red necktie. 'But I am in the middle of a game.

Or perhaps,' said the witch, her voice as sweet as poison, 'perhaps you have come to have your fortunes told, and your futures improved?' The three Vikings looked at her, mute with terror, like three little mice that had been cornered by a viper.