Page 69 of Hollowed

Stumblingfrom the window,Ifell to the floor, my hands reaching out behind me to catch my body.Theimpact jarred my shoulder, wrenching a cry from my lips.Bitingback the tears,Irolled to my knees and crawled to the window, using the frame to pull myself up.

Mybreath caught in my throat, waiting for the bird to stare back at me, but once again, it was gone.Withouta sign it had ever been here.

Cradlingmy injured arm to my chest,Iyanked the curtains closed, plunging the room into darkness.Tearspricked my eyes as both the pain of my injury and the events of the previous night cut through the adrenaline of my encounter.

Myparents were dead.Ciarawas dead.Deathwas inSleepyHollow, and was coming for me…

Thebreath left my lungs in a rush, the room spinning in the darkness asDeath’swords came back to me.She’dcalled me “little phoenix.”

Myvision swam asIstumbled toward the bed, my foot catching something in the room and sending me careening to the floor once again.Myknees caught my impact this time, andIlet myself slump to the side asIstared into nothingness.

Icould not be a phoenix.

ThepoemI’ddiscovered atPriscilla’s.Thefirebirds and their dance withDeath.Hadshe known?

Anoise outside the bedroom pulled my head around.HadAlexanderknown?

Squeezingmy eyes shut,Ilet my head fall forward, curls dropping to cover my face.Tighteningthe fist of my good hand,Ibeat it against my leg, hard to feel the pain.Apunishment for my naïveté.Iwas smart.Iwas the one who found the poem.Iwas the one who discovered the passages about the sluagh, though in the end, that hadn’t mattered.Maybethey hadn’t known.

Witha shuddering breath,Iraised my head, shifting my weight back on my heels and standing asIpushed my hair back from my face.Mychin jutted out, andIkept my shoulders back as much asIcould.Adeep breath expanded my ribs.Another.

Alexanderwas injured, and though my anxiety pleaded with me to leave him and hide from the potential knowledge he had known things and not shared them with me,IknewIcould not stopDeathwithout him.

Thiswas no time for me to break down, though allIwanted to do was hide in the darkness and slip, forgotten, away from everything and everyone.

ButSleepyHollowneeded a savior.

Aninky thought slithered from the recesses of my mind, dark and twisted like the shadowsDeathhad emerged from.Perhaps, ifIdied savingSleepyHollow,Iwould finally be enough.

Thethought took hold of my heart, acid burning in my throat.Idid not want to die, and yet, perhapsIdid.

Arattling groan fromAlexander’sroom yanked me from the darkness, my eyes focusing on the floor before me.Takinga deep breath to settle myself,Ipulled the door open, leaving my room and enteringAlexander’s.

Hiseyes were closed, but from how his hands balled at his sides and feet clambering on the blankets, his rest was fitful.Sweatbeaded on his forehead, dripping into his hair.

Lookingaround the room,Igrabbed a damp rag from the bowl of water the house must have left on the chest of drawers nearby and sat on the bed beside him.

“Shh,”Iwhispered.Theshame that had been burning through my soul deflated at the sight of his pain, my shoulders slumping in asIcurled over him while wiping his brow.

Hiseyes fluttered, but his legs relaxed, feet stretching back out again.Hislips moved, but no sound escaped, caught behind the weight of whatever price the spirit magic had exacted from him.

“Alexander.”Iraised my voice, so he’d hopefully hear me wherever his mind had taken him.Iset the rag down on my knee, moving to shake him.

Stirring, he opened his eyes, his tongue darting out to lick at his cracked lips. “Katrina, are you all right?”

“Shh,”Isaid again.Iwould not be answering his question, not whenIcouldn’t trust my face to not give away the lie whenItold himIwas fine. “Howare you feeling?”

“Tired,” he replied, his voice hoarse.Helicked his lips again, looking around the room. “Howdid we get back here?”

“Liath,”Imuttered, taking up the rag once more. “AndthenIbrought you inside.”

Helooked at me, eyes tracking over every inch of me from my head down to my waist, before focusing back on my injured armIheld tightly against my stomach. “You’reinjured.”

“Iam fine.”

“Andnow you lie,” he said.Heshifted, trying to sit up and hissed in pain, his hand going to cradle his midsection.

“Staylying down,”Iscolded, standing from the bed. “Youwere thrown against that mausoleum.”

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