Page 2 of Hollowed

Sniffingback the tears,Icouldn’t stop the watery laugh that bubbled up from my chest. “I’mgoing to move out,Henry.”

Helaughed with me, his voice vibrating through my chest, where it curled into a warm glow.Afire that welcomed rather than raged. “Yes, you are,Katrina.”Hecracked his knuckles, nodding toward the table at the back of the room. “Now, let’s see what we can find.”

* * *

“HowwillIfind somewhere without my mother knowing?”Iasked, running my hand through my wild curls and gripping the back of my head.Fornearly two hours now, every available residence we discovered was owned by a friend of my mother’s.Andwhile it wasn’t surprising, it had me ready to upturn every piece of furniture in sight and set it all ablaze.Sighing,Ileaned back from the papers strewn about the table in front ofHenryand me and crossed my arms over my chest.

Henry’ssigh echoed my own as he rifled through the papers again. “Surely, there must be something.Letme speak to a friend.Shemight have space available above her shop.”Hepaused his movements, looking up at me with a frown. “YouknowIwould take you in ifIhad the space, my dear.Butwe both know that a spot on the floor by my fireplace is not what you’re looking for.”

“I’lltake anything at this point,”Igrumbled, desperation leaking into my voice.WasIdoomed to fail beforeI’deven started?Mydreams were already succumbing to the will of my mother.

Ishook my head.No,Iwouldmove into a place of my own.Iwould have something to call my own, even if it did end up being a spot onHenry’sfloor.

“I’lltalk toCiaraas well,”Isaid. “Maybeshe heard something from her customers.”

Atthe mention of my only other friend,Henry’sface brightened. “Brilliant.”Hecraned his head back to look out the windows at the front of the shop. “It’sgetting late.Whydon’t you go on ahead before she closes for the day?”

Igaped at him.Despitehis fatherly affection,Henrywas a demanding boss.He’dnever let me go early, and certainly never before we’d finished our orders for the day. “Areyou sure?Itold herI’dcollect some flowers she needed beforeIstopped by next, soI’dneed to go gather those first.Iwas planning to do that tonight, soIcan see her in the morning.”

Helaughed loudly, shooing me away. “Goon, girl.Pickyour flowers and go seeCiarabefore it gets dark.Gettingyou out of that manor is far more important than finishing those blasted vases.”

Jumpingfrom the table,Ipressed a kiss to the old man’s cheek, ducking as he swatted at me. “Thankyou,Henry!”

Hegrumbled, but neither of us could deny the twin smiles across our faces asIpulled on my cloak, fastening the button at my throat over the gleaming ruby necklace he’d gifted me just the year prior.Stoopingto pick up my spade and basket,Irushed out the door before he could change his mind.

Iwould move out of theVanTasselmanor.Iwould live my own life under my own control, andIwould do it if it killed me.Andgiven my mother’s propensity toward violence when challenged, it very well might.

Thesmile slipped from my face at the thought.

Two

Therewere several reasonsIvolunteered to collect flowers forCiara’sapothecary.Thefirst being that my friend—one of my only friends inSleepyHollow—had planted the grove with her brother.

Andjust two short years ago, her brother had been sacrificed to theDullahanby my mother.Ayearly sacrifice, intended to placate the horseman of death in exchange for his continued protection.Ifound it to be a barbaric practice that made my stomach revolt every time someone mentioned it.Eversince her brother’s death,Ciarahad been unable to return to the grove without breaking down.I’dgone with her several times, and each time the journey had ended the same.I’dheld my friend as she sobbed, screaming to the skies and pounding the earth with her fists, her magic crackling around us in a need to be released.Shejust pulled into herself until her sobs turned into hiccups, and she slumped in my arms.

Sincethen,I’dvolunteered to go to the grove as often as she needed me to.Anythingto spare her from that pain.Fromthose memories.

Theother reason for collectingCiara’sflowers was far more selfish.Irelished the solitude of the isolated grove, which was in a clearing of the forest on the edge of town.Despitebeing a burden in the homeIwas born in,Irarely found myself left alone.Atleast physically.

Mytime in the forest wasmineand was one of the few things that truly belonged to me.

Pushingaside the last branches,Ifinally entered the clearing, stopping at the edge to take a deep breath.Closingmy eyes,Itipped my head back and inhaled the blessed silence.

Openingmy eyes and entering the clearing fully,Idecided that whereverIended up,Iwould have a garden.Somewhereto grow flowers and watch as their petals turned up to the sky.

Asmuch asIwanted to sit and relish the quiet solace of the grove,Ineeded to gatherCiara’ssupplies and meet with her.Daydreamingabout a garden would mean nothing ifIcouldn’t escape the manor.

Sighing,Idropped to my knees beside bunches of evening primrose and began my work.Thebright yellow flowers taunted me with their happiness, stark against the gloomy afternoon sky.AtleastIcould be useful with this and help my friend.

Witheach bunch of flowersIplaced in the basket, some of the tension bled from my shoulders and neck.Therepetitive movement—the thoughtless motion—slowed my racing mind and calmed the burning in my blood.Tiltingmy head side to side,Istretched out the loosening muscles even more.

AsImoved on to the dandelions, digging them up for their roots, movement at the edge of the clearing caught my attention.Rockingback to sit on my heels, my eyes scanned the tree line.Leavesshifted in the wind, but there was no sign of any other disturbances.

Theback of my neck prickled, hairs standing on end at the weight of someone—or something—watching me.Agust of wind crossed the grove, lifting my hair from my shoulders and swirling it around my face as the cold cut through the thick wool of my cloak.Spittinghair from my mouth,Itamed the wild curls behind my ears, my eyes frantically searched for a sign of whatever was with me.

There.

Bythe edge of the forest, directly across from me, a thick fog gathered around the base of the trees, twining through the branches and consuming the forest floor beyond.

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