Page 22 of Lord of the Hollow Court
Leopard Spots
For Katty’s entire life, she feared someone would spot the tear streaks on her cheeks, or notice the redness of her eyes or nose after she’d been crying. She already knew she’d have puffy eyelids in the morning—a thing she usually blamed on hay fever. The truth—the one Katty stuffed deep down, plastering a wan smile on her face before she left her bedroom—was that she cried more often than she liked to admit.
From the time she could walk, Katty had been held up to Katrina de Vries, the latter being the measuring stick her mother used for everything. In her mother’s mind, Katty was ever missing the mark. She would never be good enough. And how could she be, when Katrina had every resource at hand? If she did poorly at her lessons, Katrina was found a different tutor, one who would do better. When that did not suffice, it remained the tutor’s fault.
Katty, meanwhile, had barely learned to read. Her mother taught her numbers, since she kept the books as the miller’s wife and thought it useful for Katty’s future life as a married woman—ideally to a merchant or better. But Katty was slow with them and made too many mistakes.
“If you don’t do better,” her mother would threaten, “the de Vries won’t want you as a companion for Katrina anymore, and then where will you be?”
It seemed as though the whole of Katty’s future rested on the pleasure of the de Vries family. As much as she hated this—and despised Katrina because of it—she also loved her friend, even when she was often thoughtless. The days she spent with Katrina were blissful compared to those at home. Once Katty’s sister married—as soon as possible—home was a gale wind that tossed Katty about, pushing her in the opposite direction no matter from where she set out or why. She felt like a sapling that barely survived each winter, emerging storm-worn and a few branches less each spring.
But it wasn’t just tasks Katty failed at. Her appearance was never pretty or friendly enough, her face too round or not round enough, she was always too fat or too thin. As a result, Katty had vowed to do the opposite of what her mother wanted: to scowl and muck about whenever she could. This, Katty thought, was for the best. She must learn to be formidable. If her own mother judged her so harshly, it seemed unlikely she’d find a better receipt in the outside world.
In moments of wallowing like these, Katty hated herself for that, that she must be so hardened and quick-tempered, yet so completely powerless. The feeling, now, was doubled. Maybe if she had spoken up—if she could have done or saidanythingto shape her future—she wouldn’t be here now, with the force of a fae bargain falling upon her. The gale had pulled Katty’s life up by the roots at last.
Wiping at her face one last time, Katty straightened herself, righted her uniform—tried to look perfect. For whom she did this, Katty did not know. It was almost habit.Don’t behave so, you’ll bring shame on us. Don’t fight with your sister, the neighbors will think us bobtails. You’ll be the undoing of us. Look at you—you won’t be much good in life except as a tackle. What man would want to take you to wife?And though she railed against her mother’s sharp tongue and cried it wasn’t true, Katty always, always felt ashamed.
If she could admit it, she’d discover she had wanted to marry Ichabod. A schoolteacher, well off enough to travel to their little town from Connecticut, and well-respected wherever he roamed. Doors opened for him, with smiling faces behind them—even if it was because of the piping hot gossip he always brought like a hostess gift. If Katty was married to him, she would be respected, too. She might even learn to do her numbers tolerably well.
All that was gone now. But Ichabod—if he was still out there somewhere—was lost in the woods. What was she to do about it? Find him and bring himhere? The last thing she wanted was for another human to be subjected to the fae. From the sounds of it, her presence alone had caused a mess that would take all day to clean.
At least Katty knew how to scrub. Despite what her mother said, she knew how to roll up her sleeves and get to work. She was determined to be through with the task by suppertime—or at least by suppertime tomorrow—and be back on her way.
And then, at the thought of returning to Sleepy Hollow after a night’s absence, another thought assailed her: Was she ruined?
Would anyone believe she was lost in the woods all night, or would that terrible gossip soon be about her? After all, she’d chased after Ichabod. If anyone else had seen that...
She dreaded what her mother would say when she returned home. If she was lucky, Katrina would request her help with bridal preparations and Katty would have an escape. But first, she must deal with the fairy tale creatures’ very real mess.
With a steadying breath, Katty opened the door of Rineke’s room, and was met with the artful green and black designs of the faerie’s wings. And then the world lurched behind her, stark and bluish in the early morning light.
“There you are,” Rineke said brightly. “Stair’s this way—are you alright?”
Katty felt the blood drain from her—to where she did not know. She couldn’t feel her limbs.
They were on the roof of the manor Rineke called Hollow Hall. So high, Katty could see the colors of the turkey vulture soaring above them. The bright yellows and mellow oranges of the tree tops swayed at her eye’s level.
Rineke stamped her foot. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of heights! Oh, why did I open my big mouth to help?”
Katty didn’t know either. She wished Rineke hadn’t, too.
“It’s alright,” Rineke said, the way she hesitated suggesting the opposite. “The door is just over here. Can you look where I’m pointing?”
Katty shook her head and regretted it immediately. The world went squiggly and misshapen.
“Okay, alright—hm.” Rineke pulled at her lower lip like an infant. “Alright, you close your eyes, and I’ll guide you.”
That sounded like a terrible idea.
“I’ve got wings, remember? Even if you tripped and fell, I’d swoop down and grab you.” Rineke patted both of Katty’s shoulders a few times before gripping them, the look on her face suggesting she believed humans slimy to the touch. “This way, now. Nothing to fear.”
Katty followed, heart pounding in the wrong place. How had it crept into her throat? Was that even possible?
“Just keep following,” Rineke said, trying and mostly failing to sound comforting. She fluttered her wings. “See? Nothing to worry about.”
“I’m”—Katty paused to inhale. She’d forgotten to breathe. “I’m too heavy for you to catch.”
“Nonsense. I’ve got fae strength. You’re like a feather to me. Keep walking—here’s the door.”
