Chapter 31
“Okay, that’s our first stop, then,” I say, slapping my thighs and starting to stand. Ichabod also gets to his feet and moves towards the living room door.
“Great, just let me change into some real clothes,” Brom says.
I pause. I hadn’t expected him to come with us, but I suppose we can cover more ground with three than with two.
“Uh, yeah, sure.”
“Cool, I’ll just be a minute.” He moves past us and out into the hall. We hear his footsteps on the stairs and then up above. After a few minutes, we hear a shower start to run.
We both raise our eyes to the ceiling, and then to each other.
Ichabod sighs. “He knows time is of the essence here?”
“I guess I’ll sit back down.” I drop back into the chair heavily.
Ichabod starts to pace the length of the living room, each step increasing in tension.
“I don’t know if this is going to work,” I admit after a few beats. “What if we don’t find anything?” The fear of another one of my plans ending in failure claws its way up my spine.
“You could stay here,” I continue, “where it’s safe. My family is too wrapped up in this, but you don’t have to be.” There’s a tightness in my chest.
Maybe the scariest thing isn’t the vengeful ghost. Maybe it’s the way Ichabod makes me feel.
He comes to stop in front of me and crouches down.
“Kat, you can’t really think I’d let you face this alone?” he says, taking my hands.
“But it’s dangerous out there…”
“I know what’s out there. I know what you’re risking.
That’s exactly why I won’t let you go without me.
” He squeezes my hands, and I can see the conviction in his face.
Then his lips curve into a smile. “Also, stay behind? And miss the chance to watch you be utterly terrifying in the face of danger? Not a chance.”
I can’t help but laugh.
He leans in, forehead pressed against mine, breath warm against my lips. “But if something does happen —”
“No, don’t,” I whisper against his lips. “Don’t say it.”
The kiss is fierce. His hands are in my hair, mine grip is shirt collar. But this is not a goodbye kiss.
There’s a creak on the stairs, and Brom pokes his head around the door.
“We ready to go, or what?” he asks.
By the time we reach the graveyard, it’s mid-morning, but I can barely tell.
The sun hasn’t risen, or if it has, it’s hidden behind such a dense grey cloud that no light is shining through.
Brom said that the older, smaller part of the cemetery isn’t used anymore, but it seems like the main part isn’t either, judging by the amount of rust on the wrought iron gates.
They creak loudly as Ichabod and Brom pull them open, Ichabod trying to hide the discomfort from his shoulder wound.
I glance around anxiously, as if the noise is a klaxon that will alert the Horseman to our plans.
The graveyard is overgrown, vines and ivy snaking up and over towering headstones that are cracked and crumbling under their strain. The inscriptions have been worn down by time, and I struggle to make out many of the names or dates.
We follow Brom’s lead and make our way down the main path, towards the older burial plots. A wizened tree sits in one corner, covered in crows with dark, beady eyes. I shiver as I remember the original Katrina writing about how they watched her.
As we reach the back of the cemetery, the graves grow closer together, more haphazardly spaced, and our footsteps are muffled by dead and decaying leaves as we weave through the rows. There’s an eerie stillness, broken only by the occasional cry of one of the crows.
“This is it,” Brom says, stopping at a much smaller metal gate set into a low stone wall. “If he was buried at all, this is where he’d be.”
“It’s as good a place to start as any, then,” I reply. Before I have the chance to hesitate, I move past Brom, opening the little gate and entering the oldest part of the graveyard.
He wasn’t exaggerating about the simplicity of the graves. Some have wooden crosses, crudely marked, and some don’t bear any information at all. Others may have once had grave markers, but if they did, they’re long gone now.
I don’t feel optimistic about this. It doesn’t feel right, and I don’t think we’ll find what we’re looking for. But now that we’re here, we may as well look around and make sure.
We fan out, each taking a different row, squatting down to squint at any engraving that might still be left, wiping years of grime from the names. I reach the end of my row, but the name on this grave is too eroded to read.
“Anything?” I call out.
“Not yet,” both men shout back.
I start on another row, and between the three of us, it’s not long before we’ve checked every grave that’s still legible. We regroup in the centre, each shaking our heads.
Brom brushes dirt from his hands and the knees of his jeans. “I’ve been thinking, Kat. You said your dad was part of some secret cult. What if they kept the Horseman’s bones, after they got rid of him the first time?”
“Kept them?” I get a sudden image of my father, dressed in his dark robes, holding up a skull and smiling proudly. I shake the thought away.
“Yeah, think about it,” Brom continues. “Apparently, they’ve kept him under control all this time, right? Making sacrifices to keep him at bay. They must have needed something of his to complete their ritual. They’d need access to his remains.”
I hadn’t thought about it like that before, but it makes sense. They had to be making these sacrifices to something. But where would they have kept them? Dad had told me it was a yearly ritual.
“Well, I don’t think they’re in Dad’s study back at the manor,” I say slowly, thinking it through out loud. “I was in there just last night.”
Ichabod lifts his head. “I think you might be on to something though. I’ve always thought that it was an odd choice that I was taken to the university.
I assumed that it was just because of your father, Kat.
” He pauses. “But I must have been taken there for a reason. I would bet the Horseman’s bones are somewhere inside the university. ”
“You think my father hid them at his work?” I ask.
“Wait, what’s this about you being taken anywhere?” Brom interjects. I hadn’t wanted to go into detail, and I’d left that part of the story out.
Ichabod waves his hand dismissively, as if he doesn’t want his train of thought interrupted.
“Yes, it makes sense.” His eyes are bright.
“Meredith wasn’t aware of any of this until recently, was she?
He wouldn’t have wanted to keep something like that at home where they could be found accidently.
But the university has archives, storage rooms, restricted areas.
There would be plenty of options to store them.
If they used them in their rituals, they’d need them somewhere secure but accessible. ”
Everything he’s saying makes sense, but the university is huge. Ichabod has just said it himself, there are so many places the bones could be hidden. It would take ages to search, even if we were in the right place. We’d wasted time already by coming here.
I nod decisively. “Okay, then that’s where we go next.”
The three of us move swiftly through the deserted streets, heading towards the university.
I’m apprehensive to go back, given what had happened the last time Ichabod and I were there.
But I’m determined to end this, and something deep within me is telling me I’m right, that if we can reunite Katrina and her lover, this will all be over.
So far, we haven’t passed a single soul as we make our way back out of the cemetery and head through the centre of the town.
It looks abandoned. The shops are shut up tightly with no lights on inside.
Most of the houses have their curtains drawn.
Word must have gotten out about the Horseman, and I only hope that the townspeople can do enough to keep themselves safe.
We walk past a decaying pumpkin, grinning wildly as it collapses in on itself, and suddenly I register that today is October 31st. Halloween.
Back in London, the streets would be spilling over with children and adults alike in costume, laughing, chatting, heading to trick or treat or to a party. Here, it’s deathly quiet.
Our footsteps ring out on the cobblestones, Brom to my left and Ichabod to my right, moving quickly but cautiously.
We’ve just passed the old bandstand when a chill washes over me. The fog seems to congeal, lapping around our ankles. I come to a faltering stop.
“Kat, what is it?” Ichabod turns, reaching out his hand for me.
“Don’t you feel that?” My words are hushed.
I don’t need to say any more. A fraction of a second later, we hear it. The sounds of hooves. Slow at first, a measured, deliberate gait.
Then a trot.
A canter.
The Horseman is coming for us.
He bursts through the fog at the other end of the square, the massive black steed thundering down the street, its breath snorting out in thick clouds. The earth seems to shake as its powerful legs pound the ground with unholy force.
“Run!” Ichabod bellows, grabbing my wrist and pulling me along with him.
We bolt down a side street, careening around the corner. Hooves follow us, relentless, gaining on us.
I risk a glance over my shoulder and the Horseman is closer than I thought, sword raised. He swings.
I dive just in time, hitting the cobblestones and rolling. Pain flares through my right knee, but there’s no time to stop. I scramble back to my feet. So much for thinking my bloodline makes me immune.
“Keep moving!” Ichabod yells, pulling me forward.
“I think he’s on to us!” Brom shouts from up ahead. “Get to the university!”
The Horseman must know where we’re headed, and if he’s trying to stop us, that must mean we’re on the right track. Maybe he thinks we’ll use his bones the way the Order did, to control him. Either way, I doubt he’ll let us reach the university.
I’m running as fast as I can, but the Horseman is almost on top of us again.
“I need something I can use as a shield, or a weapon!” Ichabod shouts across to me.
“What? You can’t fight him!” I yell back. “Just run.”
We’ve caught up with Brom now, but the Horseman has also caught up to us. I can’t believe he hasn’t taken us out yet. I feel like he’s toying with us.
As if reading my mind, he takes another swipe with his sword.
Ichabod grabs me and pulls me into a narrow alleyway, and the sword narrowly misses my left shoulder. The Horseman continues on ahead, bearing down on Brom.
“Oh my god, Brom.” I stick my head around the corner, but they’re at the other end of the street now. Brom veers to his right, away from the university. The Horseman follows.
“Brom is leading him away,” I say quickly. Fear spikes in my chest. If anything happens to him, I’ll never forgive myself. But he told us to get to the university, to follow through with the plan. It’s the best chance to save us all.
“Let’s go. This is our chance.”
We break into a full sprint, weaving through the streets until the university’s gothic outline comes into view. The gates are just up ahead, slightly ajar. Ichabod reaches them first, pulling me through and slamming them closed behind us.
Not that they can keep the Horseman out.
I pause for breath, hands on the bars of the gates, looking for any sign of Brom or the Horseman, but there’s nothing of either of them.
I lean back against the stone pillar, panting. I’ve never run this much in my life. Maybe when this is all over, I’ll join a running club. Hell, maybe I’ll set up my own.
Ichabod is pressing a hand to his injured shoulder, his face looking even more pale now.
“You all right?” I ask, still gasping for breath.
He swallows and nods, but I know the exertion is draining him.
“Come on. Let’s not waste the time that Brom has bought us,” he says.
Ichabod is right. I can only pray that Brom knows what he’s doing, and I can’t let that be in vain. We need to move, to start the search for the Horseman’s bones.
We turn as one and face the university. Threading our fingers together, we start up the long gravel path.