Page 10 of Midnight Companion
“You think he was able to cross the bridge to that old church?”
“Couldn’t say, but s’pose it’s possible,” Ezra said.
“Would be odd for the Horseman to spirit him away entirely. Usually he only takes the head,” Jansen said, a strained chuckle in his throat.
“You think maybe he escaped the hollow?”
“Naw. He’s somewhere in the woods. The Horseman will have his head, like he always does.”
“Wish he’d hurry up about it,” Ezra sighed. “My ol’ bones don’t like this cold snap none.”
“Feel free to go into the woods and look for him,” Jansen said. “Maybe the Horseman’s lost his touch this year.”
“Buh,” Ezra exhaled. “I hope that spook never comes after me.”
“He wouldn’t want your head, old man, you don’t have a scrap of brains in it,” Jansen said.
Ezra let out a guffaw of laughter. “You watch yourself, young pup. I ain’t book smart, but I can still lick ya seven times til Sunday.”
The door closed behind them again, plunging me into the semi-darkness of the storehouse’s chinked logs. I heard their steps crunch away, but I dared not move, frozen to my spot in the darkness. The townspeople were against me too, knowing my blood had to be spilled as the sacrifice. I could not trust anyone in Sleepy Hollow, as the Horseman had said. I had to get away, as swiftly as I could.
I stayed still until everything had been quiet outside for a number of minutes, before I scooped up the small bag of provisions and grabbed a blanket that had been draped over a crate of apples. I checked through the cracks, finding no one nearby. I eased the door open, grateful in the moment for my slender build, before sliding out and closing the door again. I darted for the cover of the tree line, the blanket pulled over my head to hide my identity if anyone were to look outside. Once inside the trees, I turned south and began to run. I could stay off the road, in the trees, until I was sufficiently far enough away from Sleepy Hollow that no one would be able to easily come after me. I ran as fast as I could on the slippery ground, occasionally skidding or running into a root or branch.
The woods transitioned into a large cornfield, and I recognized it as the field belonging to Ezra Brouwer. Once I crossed through the cornfield, I would be back in the woods outside of the boundary of Sleepy Hollow, on the path to Tarry Town. The tall, dying corn stalks hid most of my movements, though it was difficult to know if I was running in a straight line. I batted scratchy leaves from my face as I followed one of the neat rows for what felt like hours. I finally pushed through the snowy field to find myself on a small stretch of bare ground, and, only a few paces away, the forest that ringed Sleepy Hollow. I made a dash across the open space and into the trees, my throat tightening excitedly in my chest. The path was so close, my bid for freedom successful!
But then I hit nothing at all and suddenly found myself flung to the ground.
I ended up in a heap, for I had been running at nearly full speed through the woods. My blanket fell away, my burlap sack of supplies went flying. Nothing was immediately in front of me. Trees surrounded me, and I could barely see the thin path that had led into Sleepy Hollow off to my right. I thought at first I must have slipped, or had hit an unseen branch, but after I collected my things and started forward, I was suddenly stopped again, as if a pane of glass lay in front of me, so clear I could not see it. I reached out a hand, and in the nothingness, my fingers flattened, as if the very air were a window. The Horseman’s words rang in my ears.Once you cross the line of magic into this glen, you become part of Sleepy Hollow, and you cannot leave. If you were to try, the magic would prevent you.
I was not one for swearing, but I let out several words unbecoming of a schoolmaster under my breath as I groped my hands around the area. I crouched on the ground to feel along, then stood as high as I could reach. I even tried throwing my bag of provisions up and over what I hoped was only an invisible wall, but it only rebounded back down into my hands. I tracked along toward the east to see if it perhaps opened further away from the village, but it did not. No matter how far I walked, I could not move beyond the boundary of the magic that marked Sleepy Hollow for its own.
Despair caught in my chest like a fly in a spider’s web. I might be well and truly trapped. I tried to picture what else was around me. I could cross to the other side of the path, with the forest by the wheat field, and try this same game of charades, looking for the edge of the wall that trapped me. But a little ways beyond the western half of the village lay the river. There was no way that I would be able to brave the icy, rushing rapids of the Hudson. To jump in there was tantamount to suicide. If I moved further inland, perhaps I could eventually find the edge of Sleepy Hollow’s eastern border, where the magic might not stretch. It was not a great idea, but neither was throwing myself into the Hudson.
The sun was traveling downwards, as sunlight does so early in wintertime, and the trees were already starting to be cast in shadow around me. The wind whipped, and even the blanket about my shoulders did not protect me from the punishing cold. I could not stay out in the woods tonight, for I would surely freeze before the moon had even reached its zenith. I had precious few options available to me. The longer I remained outside, the more likely the villagers would be to spot me. I could find a barn or storehouse to hole up in for the night and resume my attempts in the morning, but the possibility of being spotted was even more likely then, and I could not even be sure I would find an escape. My brain told me that logically there had to be a way out, but I was not dealing with logic. I was dealing with magic, and magic made its own logic.
I stood, my feet planted in the snow, trying to decide what to do, when the excruciating pain struck. I doubled over, clapping a hand to my mouth to muffle the scream that came out of me as my body jerked and convulsed, the pain in my chest that of someone twisting a red-hot poker inside of it. My vision blurred, and tears froze in the corners of my eyes as I twitched and shook, chest heaving. The agony only lasted for a few moments, but each one felt like an eternity. I was sure I was in the pits of Hades itself. When the pain subsided and began to fade away, I realized I was lying on the ground, the blanket tangled around me. I unclenched my hand from my mouth, only to double over again as I retched uncontrollably.
What came out of me was not the meal I’d eaten, nor bile of any color, but a whisp of black smoke, not unlike that from a chimney. It collected into a mist under my shaking form before, with deliberate movements, it whisked away into the forest, lost amongst the trees. I could do nothing but stare after it, hazy and weak-kneed, lying on the bed of snow as if I had grown roots there.
I laid there for I knew not how long, but the light had faded further, the sun already sinking behind the trees. I had broken out into a sweat. The snow had felt good against my body after I had vomited whatever it was that had come from inside me, but now I was freezing again, my teeth chattering uncontrollably. I had to get up, or I really would die here. I had to get out of these woods, out of the cold. I did not know where to go, so I leaned heavily against the invisible border of Sleepy Hollow, getting to my knees, and then to my feet, chest heaving, limbs aching. Keeping my hand against the barrier, I stumbled along, not sure what direction I was going, but my mind was too fuzzy to care. I only knew I had to move.
The snap of a branch underfoot nearby made my head jerk up, and it took a moment to focus on the blurry outline of two figures approaching me at a leisurely pace through the dim light. When my mind finally managed to lock onto what it was seeing, my whole body went numb.
Katrina Van Tassel and Abraham Von Brunt stepped from around a nearby tree, only a dozen paces away from me. They were dressed in warm clothing and cloaks, and Brom carried a lantern. Katrina smiled at me, a sweet smile that was distorted by all of her teeth suddenly flashing with pointed ends. “Hello, Master Crane,” she said pleasantly. “You seem to be lost.”
I groped around me for any sort of weapon, but in my dizzy state and fear, I could find nothing but air.
Katrina removed her hand from her muff and held it out to me. I could see that her fingernails and fingertips had melded together into sharp, black points that seemed to be growing longer and sharper by the moment. “How strange that the Horseman decided to give me a challenge this year; that is very unlike him. Though it seems that you squandered that generosity.”
I shrank back, my heart thundering in my chest and my ears. “What do you want from me?” I said, trying to sound demanding, but I knew it came out as no more than a croak.
Katrina giggled. “Do not worry, Ichabod. It will not take long, unless you want it to.”
I turned and ran. I could barely see anything in front of me, crashing blindly through the trees for all of the world to hear. I took a sharp turn, bursting out of the trees and into the clear area in front of the fields. I was unsure where I was going but feeling only the sheer and utter need to get away. I skidded on a slick patch of ground, feeling my ankle twist, but I dared not stop, only sprinted forward to plunge into the cornfield.
I heard a sound behind me almost like the crunching of bone, and then there was something quadrupedal chasing after me. I could not tell what it was, but I could hear panting behind me, like that of a giant dog, and something else that sounded like a high-pitched screech. I continued to shove my way through the thick stalks. Each row looked the same as the last, and I had no destination in mind, only knowing that if I were to stop, I would die. I turned sharply, hoping to deter whatever was chasing me as I ran in another direction.
I could see trees up ahead. The forest was not far. I sprinted for it, until my foot caught a patch of ice, causing me to skid wildly. I hit the snowy ground, rattling my teeth in my skull, rolling a few feet. I turned onto my back, just as a large creature with a hideously smashed face and large fangs pounced on top of me. It looked like it was made of stone, except for the vicious, dripping mouth and glowing, red eyes that stared down at me. I screamed, feeling its weight baring down on me like a boulder. Its clawed fingertips dug into the soft flesh of my sides below my ribs, like icicles pricking my body. And then there was another cracking sound, and the creature above me morphed into Brom Bones, sitting triumphantly on my legs, fingers still dug into my tender skin.
