Page 17 of Hollowed

Silently, we finished the list, andIbit my tongue to keep from asking him to reconsider.Assoon as the ink had dried on the last word,Henrystood. “Iam off toCiara’s.WhenIreturn with the supplies, you will be on your way.”

“Sosoon?”Iasked, my stomach knotting at the thought of leaving everythingI’dever known behind, especially without knowing what lay ahead.

“Wecannot risk anyone finding out about our plans, girl.Youyourself mentioned your mother having ears everywhere,” he said, tapping at my cheek. “Now,I’moff.Ishall return soon.”

Iblew out a breath onceHenryhad left.WasItruly doing this?LeavingtheHollowhad never been an optionIwould have considered before, but now it seemed to be the only optionIhad in order to live.AndIwanted to live.

“Youare stronger than this,Katrina,”Imuttered to myself, wiping at the tears on my face asIstood from the stool.

Movingabout the shop,Ifilled a bag with the belongingsI’dleft here for safekeeping: my journal, which certainly would not have been safe in the same residence as my mother, moneyIhad tucked away for any emergencies, and the red crystal necklaceHenrygave me… the only giftI’dever received.

Ipacked my meager belongings in the satchel with room to spare for whateverHenryreturned with.Ipulled out a fresh piece of parchment and began penning a letter to the old earth witch, spilling my emotions and several tears onto the paper.Foldingit neatly,Iplaced it on his desk in the back office, and thenIsat, taking in the shop for the last time.

Whathad only felt like seconds passed before the lantern flashed andHenryreturned with a small bag over his shoulder. “Areyou ready, my dear girl?”

Takinga deep breath,Inodded and met him at the front door.Despitemy earlier resolutions to not ask him again, the words came spilling from my lips. “Won’tyou please come with me,Henry?Theycannot sacrifice you if you are not here.”

Hechuckled, placing the bag over my shoulder. “Ihave lived a long life, andIam too stubborn to leave it now,Katrina.Butyou, you have your entire future ahead.”

Tearswelled in my eyes again, blurring my vision and burning my throat. “Henry…”

Hewaved his hand and pulled the door open. “Noneof that now.Iexpect you to write once you have arrived somewhere safe.Keepthose hands of yours out of trouble.”

Thewatery laugh that escaped made me feel slightly better, though not much.Ileaned in, pressing a kiss against his cheek while trying not to think about how it might be the last timeItouched him.Tearsslid from my eyes, wetting both our cheeks asIlingered. “Thankyou for everything,Henry.”

“Yoube careful, girl.”

“Iwill,”Isaid, smiling reassuringly at him asIadjusted the bag on my shoulder. “Ipromise.”

Reluctantly, he let me go, holding the door open. “IprayInever see you again,KatrinaVanTassel.”

Hiswords may have been harsh, but the waver in his voice gave away everything he left unsaid.

BeforeIcould change my mind,Iturned and stepped out into the fading afternoon light and began my walk down the cobblestone streets leading through theHollow.Stayingto myself,Icould only pray no one would notice that my path was leading toward the cemetery and the covered bridge that led out of town.

Thebridge finally came into view just over the hill and my heart sped up, my palms slick with sweat asIadjusted my grip on the bags in my hands.Theworn wood.Mybreathing sped up.Theflaking, once-white paint.Sweatbeaded on the back of my neck and rolled down my spine.Theshadows cast across the planks of the floor.Mythroat grew dry, and my tongue felt heavy.Thegaping entrance that led to freedom.Myknees shook asIwalked.

Thiswas it.Aftertwenty years inSleepyHollow,Iwas finally leaving.

Itwasn’t the reliefI’dbeen expecting.

Instead, each step felt like a weight attached to my ankles.Myheart shattered with each breath, thinking only of whoIwas leaving behind; of what painHenryandCiaramight suffer on my behalf.Orthose who would become a victim of my mother, never seeing a way out.

Iclosed my eyes and took a deep breath, pushing it all away.

Forthe first time in my life,Ineeded to be selfish.OrIwas going to die.

Iopened my eyes.

Staringat the bridge, all else fell away.Onlythe weathered wood and the sound of running water in the river beneath remained in my awareness.Myfeet pulled me in the direction of the bridge, the energy from the magical wards pulsing and drawing me in.

Ahand wrapped around my arm, clamping tight like a vise, before pulling me from the trance the bridge had pulled me into.Turningto face my captor, fire built in my chest. “Brom?Whatare you doing?”

“Whereare you going,Katrina?” he asked, his hand squeezing tighter.Hisbrows furrowed as he took in my cloak and the bagsIhad with me. “Areyou trying to leave?”

“Youare hurting me.”Itugged against his powerful grip.Fireerupted from my fingertips and twirled up my forearms, singeing away the sleeves of my dress and licking at my captor’s hands.YetBromdid not release me.Thesmell of burning flesh entered my nostrils, but his grip only tightened. “Brom, stop this!”

Hedid not answer and began pulling me toward the bridge.Idug my heels in, but it was no use.Bromwas nearly a full head taller than me and moved me with ease.

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