“Gotcha,” he said with a menacing smirk, not even breathing hard as he stared down at me with glinting eyes.
I shoved at him, but he was as immovable as a cornerstone. I looked past him to suddenly see Katrina descend from the sky a short distance away. Her black cloak and arms were spread wide, and I could see that they had morphed into a pair of leathery bat wings. She alighted upon the ground with a curl of black smoke not unlike that which had spewed forth from my body earlier, and her cloak settled back into position on her shoulders. Her blackened fingers were wickedly long and sharp now, almost like sickles. “What fun. You have given us a merry chase,” she said, batting her eyelashes slightly. “But you have lost, Ichabod Crane, and now it is time to pay the price. The town will thank you for it. Posthumously, of course.”
Brom yanked me up by my collar, then grabbed me by the top of my head to pull me to my knees. My life flashed before my eyes as Katrina stepped closer, drawing back her clawed hand to strike.
The roar of an angry horse sounded so close that I almost lost my hearing. Something struck Brom and sent him flying, ripping some of my hair from my scalp as he did. A large, black figure moved between me and Katrina. I looked up through bleary eyes to see the Horseman atop his fiery-eyed mount, as vicious and horrific as he had been on Halloween night when he chased me through the woods. Katrina stumbled backward. The Horseman reached out his hand to me, and without any other thought in my head, I took it. He yanked me up with supernatural strength, and the horse had started running before I had even thumped onto his back behind the Horseman.
Something screeched, something cracked, and my arms clung around the Horseman’s waist with every bit of strength I had left in my body as the horse’s hooves thundered through the corn. Within a few moments, we had cleared the field and were plunging back into the trees. I ducked my head low, pressing my forehead into the Horseman’s back, clinging to him as though my very life depended on it, and I was sure in this moment that it did. The black horse expertly dodged trees and branches while the Horseman spurred him on, with only the rising moon above us to guide our way.
Wind whistled past me, and I finally pulled my face from the Horseman’s coat to risk a glance over my shoulder. Nothing seemed to be pursing us, the forest deathly silent except for the canter of heavy hoofbeats. But I could not relax, and the Horseman’s speed did not slow. He urged the great horse on, seeming to know exactly where he was heading. I started to hear running water nearby and realized we must be approaching the river that separated the church from the rest of the forest.
We suddenly hit the clear path, and I could see the bridge leading to the churchyard in the distance, drawing up fast. But I could also see on the path behind us that Brom was back in his monstrous creature form and lumbering after us on all fours like a great bear. Katrina was swooping above the trees with her giant wings, baring down on us. “Ichabod, let go of me and grab the back of the saddle,” the Horseman said to me. My hands did not want to unclench from where they held him so tightly around the waist, but the urgency in his voice compelled me to release him and grab the saddle for dear life. Without further warning, the Horseman sprang off of the steed’s back at a full gallop, into the path of the fanged Brom monster.
The horse continued its sprint, suddenly speeding up now that it only had one rider’s weight upon it. It was only steps from the wooden bridge when I heard the dull thud of bodies colliding, and two screeches, one low and one higher. The horse hit the planks of the bridge, continuing its high speed rush until it burst out the other side in a parody of the chase that we had conducted on Halloween night. It started to slow, and I turned, trying to see what had become of the Horseman and our pursuers.
The Horseman was on the ground, the stone beast snorting and lashing at him as they scuffled. Above them, the giant bat screeched and tried to dive in to help. The Horseman struck at her, but, no matter how violent his movements, they halted inches from the bat before they could connect. She struck at him with her clawed feet, trying to drag him off of the gargoyle, but when he tried to grab at her claws, his hands would stop in mid-air before he could touch her. It almost seemed like he met the same resistance I had hit when I ran face-first into the barrier around Sleepy Hollow. Invisible, strong, relentless.
The bat backed off as the gargoyle was able to get the Horseman onto his back, snarling and snapping. The Horseman lifted his feet and front-kicked the monster sharply, directly into the bat. Both of them went flying and hit a nearby tree with a thunk that I felt all the way across the river. The Horseman stumbled to his feet and began to stagger toward the bridge.
The bat and the gargoyle were in a heap on the ground, and then Katrina and Brom were scrambling to their feet. I could already see something bright burning in Katrina’s hand. I wanted to scream a warning to the Horseman, but I did not have any breath left in my lungs. The Horseman’s boots had just touched the bridge when Katrina loosed a ball of fire straight for him.
It was as if the bridge too had the same magical barrier as the town, for the fireball struck the opening of the bridge right in front of the Horseman before it exploded into dozens of tiny sparks. The blast sent both the Horseman and witch and minion flying backward, the Horseman’s body hitting the wooden planks of the bridge with a thump. The next thump was my own body hitting the snowy ground next to the black horse as I once again lost consciousness.
Chapter Five
Iwasnottiedor gagged when I woke up this time. A lantern burned nearby, and when I was able to open my eyes to see my surroundings, I found that instead of the gallery, I was in the main area of the church. Blue moonlight poured through the glass windows, illuminating the space further. I realized that I had several blankets on top of me, which were keeping me surprisingly warm, especially once I realized with a start that I was naked underneath them. I sat up sharply, clutching the blankets to my chest.
The Horseman sat in the front pew a few feet away, and I realized I was on the raised dais, the pulpit stairs behind me. The Horseman’s head was perched on the back of the pew as his body moved, and I realized that he was sewing something. He heard my movements and turned his eyes toward me. “We need to stop meeting this way.” His face remained impassive, but his voice held a hint of mirth.
“I… I thought you had died,” I said, remembering the ball of fire that had blown him backward on the bridge.
“I was dead to begin with,” the Horseman said, a smile curving his lips upward. “I am almost done stitching up your clothes. Are you warm enough for now?”
I clutched the blankets closer, my cheeks warm with embarrassment as I realized that he must have undressed me while I was unconscious. “Yes,” I said. Almost as an afterthought, I added, “Thank you.”
The Horseman nodded and went back to his work. I cautiously lifted the blanket to examine myself, making sure I kept things hidden from him. I had cuts and scratches over my chest and sides, and my left ankle was swollen. But the wounds had been cleaned and dressed, and my ankle to bound with bandages.
The Horseman tied off the thread he had been using, then folded the garment and set it on top of the pile of my clothing at his side. He picked them up and crossed the few paces over to me, laying them down next to me before backing off again, his hands up in a show of truce. “Shall I leave you to get dressed?” he asked.
My whole body flushed at that. “Please.”
The Horseman collected his head from the back of the pew, then turned and strode out through the side door. Once he was gone, I cautiously pushed the blankets aside and slid on my clothes. I could see repaired rips and gashes where the gargoyle had struck me, all neatly sewed back into place with fine stitches.
Once I had my clothing on, minus my jacket, for I was still feeling warm enough in just my shirtsleeves and waistcoat, I felt better and sat waiting for the Horseman to return, unsure what else to do. It was several more minutes before he cracked open the door and asked, “May I enter?”
“Yes,” I said. He did, and I could see that the world was still shining white outside. He stomped off his boots, then padded over to me with a bucket of water, which he set down nearby before he retreated back to the pew, his head in his lap, and we sat in uncomfortable silence for a long while.
I opened my mouth to start to thank him when he also began to speak, and both of us lapsed into embarrassed silence again. I waved my hand at him to prompt him, and he coughed softly. “I hope your wounds are not hurting too badly.”
“I am all right, thank you.”
And then we fell quiet again before I finally said, “Thank you for saving me from the witch.”
The Horseman looked up in surprise. “Was that all right?”
I laughed weakly. “It is not as if it can be undone if it was not. But… I am grateful. You did not have to do that.”
The Horseman sighed and brushed some of his hair back behind his ear. “For anyone else, I might not have.”
